As an avid baseball fan, I am always impressed by the various milestones that get recognized. Among the more noteworthy are 3,000 base hits, 500 home runs, and 300 wins. Each of these accomplishments denotes a career that is probably Hall-of-Fame worthy, as so few who play the game are able to attain them. (I’ll leave aside the controversy surrounding players like Barry Bonds and Roger Clemens, who despite attaining major career totals in their respective fields of excellence, are held back from universal acclaim because of presumed steroid use.)
To reach these levels of excellence, a player needs two things: talent (a lot of it) and longevity (a lot of it, too). The talent factor is enhanced, no doubt, by hard work. Most ballplayers who become regulars on major league teams are highly talented. There are only 750 such players in the major leagues each year, and to be among the very best of those, you have to be amazingly good (the talent) and stay amazingly good, even getting progressively better (the hard work).
The longevity factor is often overlooked, but it shouldn’t be, as it is a combination of good fortune and supreme dedication. Most of the players who achieved the career milestones I have mentioned held onto their jobs (and continued their excellent performance) for the better part of 20 years. To do so, they had to be more than a little lucky and exceedingly resolute. The luck includes having a body that somehow withstands the rigors of athletic performance. Staying healthy in baseball terms means avoiding the kinds of injuries that place you on the disabled list numerous times. Things like torn ligaments, pulled muscles, and broken bones are the most common culprits, and they can happen to anyone.
And with each tear, pull or break, the body recovers more slowly and/or the body part is less able to do what it is required to do. Many a player has had a career cut short by such injuries; most who achieve milestones like those I’ve mentioned have been lucky in avoiding them in large quantities.
Dedication is also a major requirement in achieving longevity. Cal Ripken, Jr., holder of the record for most consecutive games played (2,632 games, covering over 16 seasons), owed much of his record to good luck. Ripken avoided major debilitating injuries despite playing most of those seasons at one of baseball’s toughest defensive positions (shortstop), and he never took advantage of the opportunity to be the designated hitter (permitted under American League rules) during his streak. To think that Ripken never felt pain or limitations from fatigue in parts of his body is ridiculous. Of course he did. And yet he played, which is dedication. And he kept himself fully prepared, which is more dedication. The great ones, the ones who achieve those milestones, are possessed of such dedication.
The column I’m writing is the 1,000th I have written for my blog and its predecessor (an e-newsletter). It isn’t the kind of milestone that warrants election to a hall of fame, but it is a personal milestone in which I take no small amount of pride. Over the almost twenty years that I’ve been writing these weekly essays, I have missed only one due to health problems. That was the week following my surgery for cancer in December of 2005. In recent years, I have also taken off a few weeks for vacations and the like.
Otherwise, I’ve churned out essay after essay, each consisting of approximately 1,000 words on subjects varying from sports and entertainment to politics and world events. I’ve written about personal experiences and have expressed my personal views. I’ve discussed philosophical issues and presented scientific discoveries and hypotheses. I have presented a vision of what life can be and tried to reflect the reality of what life is.
My first column reflected on the death of Princess Diana in 1997. In the years that have followed, I have written about the impeachment of a president, the decision to start a war in Iraq, the election of the nation’s first black president, and, now, the start of a presidency that may threaten the very existence of civilization as we know it. I have also, during those years, moved from a career as a practicing attorney to one as a law professor. And I’ve aged—from the relative prime of life to the exalted status of “senior citizen.” I have seen my sons graduate with honors from high school, college, and graduate school (and both are still unmarried), while my wife and I continue to have a marriage that works for both of us (most of the time). We’ll celebrate our 39th anniversary this June.
The world has changed perceptibly over those years. The internet was just starting to be recognized as a new means of gaining and spreading information in 1997. It has become the driving force in communication today. Social networking was a vision in 1997. Today, if you don’t tweet, you can’t know what the president is thinking.
Science has made advances in medical care and in energy production. Cancer is still a killer, but less so than it was, and AIDS, in most instances, isn’t. Oil is still the number one energy source, but alternatives are far more prevalent and plausible. The world is, in many ways, a better place.
It’s also a more dangerous place. ISIS didn’t exist in 1997 and terrorism had not yet become a ubiquitous form of warfare. Weapons of mass destruction, while they existed, were not recognized as such. (I wrote a column that introduced the term to my readers in late 1997.) Stateless wars, like the current one against ISIS, were unheard of in 1997. Then, we were pondering whether war as a means of dispute resolution could be forever consigned to history. Now, we ponder whether we can win a war without incurring any casualties. Then we attended public events with no more concern than whether we’d have a place to store our coats. Now attendance at almost any sporting event and many other public gatherings requires us to pass through metal detectors and subject our bags to searches. (Don’t even think about how airline travel has changed over the years; it isn’t a pleasant thought.)
The United States still reigns as the world’s sole superpower (in terms of military and economic might). But it is a highly divided nation, with much more diversity on the coasts and in the cities than in the rest of the country. Bigotry still bedevils us, its ugly effect prominent in police shootings and in corporate boardrooms (less so perhaps in academia, but it’s there, too). Women are more prominent in politics, but we still can’t get one elected president.
Through it all, I have offered my observations in these weekly essays. In truth, the writing has been my principal hobby, one that I take pride in, and continue to work at. I’d like to think I’m a better writer now than I was twenty years ago, but I still have much to learn. But it is a talent, and I enjoy working at it. If, on occasion, I manage to put my thoughts together in a meaningful and readable essay that causes readers to think and maybe engage in conversation about an issue, then I feel the work is justified.
And so I’ll keep at it. I’m not Cal Ripken, but I am committed to my craft, and for so long as I remain blessed with the ability, I’ll continue to write.
Thanks. Now on to number 1001.