There's No Crying in Baseball

I originally posted this back in 2013. It popped up in my FB memories, and I realized I still have the habit to some extent.

February 23rd, 2013.

This past week was filled with the usual challenges, perceived injustices, and concerns. I responded in my usual manner - the movie scenarios. I mentally created a script, scene by scene, where I was exonerated or the offender saw the light, corrected their misbehavior and apologized. Childish, yes. 

I have grown up some. I never seek revenge in my little scripts. I don't wish the perpetrators ill. No, just a scene wherein we mend the rift -  see how good I am trying to be? (I know, I still have a lot of growing to do and trust me, I am working on it.)

These little self indulgent movies always end in prayer, asking God for help in putting things into the proper perspective and to help me act out of love and compassion rather than from ego. And God usually answers that prayer, sometimes immediately. 

After a series of challenges, blows to my self esteem, I hid out in the bathroom (the only room where I can truly be alone,) and tearfully asked God why I deserved what had just happened. Didn't every one know how hard I tried? Didn't they care how I felt? 

When I began my usually little script, the scene changed, and I saw a clip from the movie, A League of Their Own. Tom Hanks, exasperated over a player's error, growls at the woman. She breaks down into tears, her whole world shattered. Haven't we all taken a comment, spun it, and enlarged it until the whole world hated us, we couldn't do anything right, and nothing would ever be right? 

Tom's next words put it all in perspective. "Crying? There's no crying in baseball!"

I put myself in his shoes and instantly had a new perspective. Do not add a lifetime of issues to each and every challenge. Correct this issue and move on. No excuses. No whining. No pouting. No crying. The world, my world, won't end. (Rarely anyway). 

Yep, no crying in baseball. Fix it and move on. Don't make something small into something huge. Nine times out of ten, the Big Issue won't matter to anyone, even me, after an hour or so. 

The rest of the day, I imagined Tom Hanks and giggled. Helped keep my reactions from blowing things completely out of perspective. And the incident that had me hiding in the bathroom crying?  Yes, it passed. At the moment, I can't really remember why I was so upset. Imagine that.