Talk about'cher odd group. The other night, retired NY Times senior reporter (and major leaguer) Adam Clymer invited the chairman of the American Conservative Union, David Keene, and me to a lecture at George Washington University.
The lecture was a program by John Grisham (of courtroom drama fame); H. G. Bissinger (of "Friday Night Lights" fame); and Tony La Russa (of St. Louis Cardinals and Oakland A's fame, also a major leaguer).
Major League managers are often called, "Skipper."
Bissinger has written a book about La Russa called "Three Nights in August" (he goes by "Buzz" instead of H.G. for this one) and the discussion was about the book and about baseball and like that.
After the main body of the thing was over, people lined up to ask questions. I've always been suspicious of people who will line up behind a microphone, up an aisle, in an auditorium to ask a question. These folks, however, asked good questions, one of which had to do with pitchers hitting batters and the retaliation which then, often, ensues.
"Have you ever decided to call for a retaliation when the game was in the balance," he was asked? La Russa said there was, in fact, a time when he instructed his pitcher to hit a guy from the other team in retaliation deep into a game when he really didn't want to give the other team a base runner.
The players knew their teammate had been hit on purpose and they watched to see what La Russa would do. He told his pitcher to hit a guy because, he said, "you can lose a game, but you can't lose your team."
Whoa! Big thought. Very big thought.
If you are in a position of leadership, paint that on the back of your office door so that every time you close it because you don't want to be bothered by someone's girlfriend problem or boyfriend or wife or husband or son or daughter or colleague or competitor you will see those words:
You can lose a game, but you can't lose your team.
And you will open your door and say, "Come on in. Let's talk."
Last weekend the Mullings Director of Standards & Practices and I were in New York for a party hosted by a guy named Michael Fleischer. Michael happens to be the brother of Ari Fleischer (of Bush Press Secretary fame).
Michael Fleischer has been singularly successful in the world of business. Nevertheless, one day he pulled the sheets up over the office furniture and computers and showed up in Baghdad to help Iraqis start small businesses. Notwithstanding a wholly uninformed, unkind, and untrue shot by the NY Times' Frank Rich last weekend, Michael was a very positive force.
But that's not the point.
The point is, being with some of the people who had been in Iraq at Michael's house got me thinking about why that experience was so important: I was a member of a team.
When you read stories about military personnel who have been injured in Iraq, you read that their first question is very often: "When can I get back to my unit?"
In his book, "Band of Brothers," the late historian Stephen E. Ambrose wrote that injured members of Easy Company (506th Regiment, 101st Airborne Division) would routinely sneak out of their hospital in England, hitch a ride on a transport, and rejoin their outfit in France or Belgium or wherever Easy Company happened to be.
Every day I e-mail or speak to someone with whom I served in Iraq. I miss being part of that team. I suspect I always will.
I hope, based upon the wisdom of Tony La Russa, I never do anything to lose my team.
Thanks, Skip, for reminding me of what counts: Not the game; the team.
On the Secret Decoder Ring today: Links to David Keene and the Bissinger book, a pretty amusing Mullfoto and a Catchy Caption of the Day which is nothing short of stupid.
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