Not Playing The Game

Clay Bergen

The image was a startling one, brought to us in technicolour. The picture was of veteran Major League Baseball umpire John McSherry signalling for help, turning from the plate and walking back towards the warning track. As he reached the screen behind home plate, he collapsed, face forward, clutching his chest. Emergency personnel and players rushed to his aid and he was eventually removed from the stadium.

On the field and around the stadium, there were vivid images. People in the stands wept openly. Some prayed silently. Players had their arms wrapped around each other. Some stared in shock and fear. Mike Lansing, second baseman for the Montreal Expos, held his hand over his mouth in shocked and fearful knowledge of what was happening. Grown men, millionaires to a man, cried. 40,000 people, previously engaged in the "national past-time", filed silently out of Riverfront Stadium. The game just couldn't go on. It could be played some other day, right now there were more important concerns.

Twenty minutes later, word reached the stadium that McSherry had died. In a moment, husband, father and friend had passed away. Following the incident, the usual media crush poured in. His friend and fellow umpire appeared on national television, choking back tears. Players who had known the umpire passed on accolades and, out of respect, they decided to play the game at a later date. It was truly a sad day for baseball. Perhaps the most tragic aspect of the whole affair is that McSherry was scheduled to see a heart specialist just a day later. Help was just a day away.

As sad as this event is, the knowledge that many people we know are just as close to "help" is also saddening. People we know and have dealings with are often like McSherry. They are "minutes" from the end of their lives, and yet we blindly go on. We have decided to "play the game" instead of pausing to help save those around us. If we look at our lives, we are like the baseball players that witnessed this event. We are millionaires if we count all the blessings God has bestowed on us, and yet we withhold the fullness and richness of life in Jesus from those who really need Him. Jesus wants to bring that fullness to everyone and He wants to do it through us. Maybe it's time we decided to not "play the game" of indifference. It can't go on. Maybe it can be played some other time, but right now there are too many other important concerns.

Clay Bergen lives in Big River, Sask.

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