Remember how you felt when Old Yeller died?
Last Friday, July 30, was the Major League Baseball trade deadline, and I felt like Old Yeller died again. Why, you ask? It’s because two cogs in the Chicago Cubs World Series team from 2016 were traded a day after another cog was traded.
First baseman Anthony Rizzo went to the Bronx to play for the Yankees, and shortstop Javy Baez followed to the Big Apple to play for the Metropolitans. Then, just before the deadline, came the big blow when Kris Bryant was traded to the Giants. Tears were starting to well up inside me.
I tried watching baseball that night, but I wasn’t into it because my mind was on the news of the day. I tried watching Blade Runner on TCM to get my mind off of baseball but to no avail.
About half way through the movie, I turned off the TV and decided to call it a night early. Before going to bed, I retreated to my usual quiet place. As I folded my hands in prayer, the notion of detachment came to mind.
Detachment is an idea stemming from Ignatian Spirituality that means we are not to be inclined one way or another toward one option.
Being detached, according to St. Ignatius in his First Principle and Foundation, means we are to be “indifferent ... so that we do not necessarily want health rather than sickness, riches rather than poverty, honor rather than dishonor, a long rather than a short life... so that we ultimately desire and choose only what is most conducive for us to the end for which God created us.”
What this basically means in the context of this column is I should be detached from the baseball trades and not let them distract me from my ultimate goal of reaching Heaven. After that realization, which actually came on the eve of the Feast of St. Ignatius, I felt at peace.
Good thing I wasn’t upset anymore because I didn’t want it be a bummer on my canoe trip the following day. It was my first ever canoeing adventure, and I went with about 30 other people (half of which were kids) to Ouiska Chitto. I now should get a T-shirt that says “I survived Ouiska Chitto.”
At first I got in a two-man boat with another guy, and it started off rough because the boat flipped twice.
After the second time, I fell into the water, I got in a canoe with a more experience paddler. I offered to help paddle, but he said he would do all the paddling. I felt kind of embarrassed and useless for not paddling, but then the jokes started.
I joked that I felt like king of the river because I had a paddle boy. I joked that our group was like an armada because we had eight or nine boats. And, I joked that the cliffs along the creek looked like the white cliffs of Dover.
Later I felt like an explorer like Pere Jacques Marquette and other Jesuit explorers sailing in similar canoes as they brought the Spiritual Exercises to North America.
Our armada stopped several times along the way on the sand bars which was good for me because it gave a chance to regain circulation in my feet. There wasn’t a lot of comfortable leg room in the front of the boat.
When we finally reached the end, we took buses back to where the cars were. Believe it or not, it was my first time riding a short bus. And, the songs on the playlist were very similar to the songs on my playlist I play at the ballpark. I hope that isn’t a sign.
In all seriousness, I really enjoyed the adventure. The scenery was great. The water felt great... believe me, I know. The only casualty of the trip was I lost my Cubs hat. So, if anybody finds a Cubs hat flowing downstream, it’s mine. But, I can just buy another. However, after all the trades from last week, I could buy a Mets hat, or a Giants hat, or, dare I say it, a Yankees hat.
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