The Baseball Gods are Real: A True Story about Baseball and Spirituality

By Jonathan A Fink

This book is the story of the first part of my life and how I rediscovered myself. At the age of 38, a midlife crisis inspired me to explore a spiritual path. As I transformed myself through the practice of yoga and meditation, I was introduced to the Baseball Gods. 

The Baseball Gods is a term that emerged over time to explain the my

• Language: English
• Publisher: Polo Grounds Publishing
• Release date: Aug 22, 2018
• ISBN: 9780692169186

Jonathan A Fink

Jonathan A. Fink is the author of The Baseball Gods are Real, The Music Gods are Real and The Investment Gods are Real book series. Jonathan is also the founder and President of Satya Investment Management.

Book preview

INTRODUCTION

IN BULL DURHAM, A 1988 COMEDY ABOUT A MINOR-LEAGUE baseball team directed and written by Ron Shelton, the movie starts with a narration from the baseball loving character Annie Savoy, played by actress Susan Sarandon…

I believe in the Church of Baseball. I’ve tried all the major religions and most of the minor ones. I’ve worshipped Buddha, Allah, Brahma, Vishnu, Siva, trees, mushrooms, and Isadora Duncan. I know things. For instance, there are 108 beads in a Catholic rosary and there are 108 stitches in a baseball. When I learned that, I gave Jesus a chance. [sigh] But it just didn’t work out between us. The Lord laid too much guilt on me. I prefer metaphysics to theology.

I can relate to Annie Savoy. From the time that I was a young child attending Sunday religious school to the day of my Bar Mitzvah years later, I considered myself an atheist. I found the stories in religious texts to be implausible, and over time, I became more skeptical and cynical. As I got older, I found myself becoming more disillusioned with organized religion as I witnessed hypocrisy by religious leaders and their faithful followers.

In recent years, I have watched friends and family migrate from being religiously observant to completely non-observant. I can understand why so many people don’t find deeper meaning and spirituality in their daily lives. When people do not find a sincere spiritual connection inside the buildings of organized religious institutions, many become disillusioned and give up the search. Perhaps we just need to look inward. When I was a kid, my father, Jeffrey Fink, often said to me, Son, your body is a temple. My dad was right. My body is a temple and I can take the holy spirit with me everywhere I go.

This book is the story of the first part of my life and how I rediscovered myself. At the age of 38, a midlife crisis inspired me to explore a spiritual path. As I transformed myself through the practice of yoga and meditation, I was introduced to the Baseball Gods.

The Baseball Gods is a term that emerged over time to explain the mysterious and coincidental events that occur in the world of baseball. When fans, sports writers, players, managers and coaches witness these miracle moments, they reference this mysterious force in the universe as the work of the Baseball Gods.

Traversing through childhood, college, the music industry, Wall Street and, of course, the world of baseball, my story takes readers along for the ride as I experience synchronicity, winks from the universe, and divine guidance. While I grew up a self-proclaimed atheist, I now know from personal experience that the Baseball Gods are real.

CHAPTER ONE

The Karate Kid

Wax on, wax off.

—Mr. Miyagi, from the movie The Karate Kid

THIS STORY BEGINS IN FOURTH GRADE. MY PARENTS DID not know what to do with their son, the child that had seemingly endless energy. Like my father when he was a child, I was active, energetic and had boundless enthusiasm. In school, it felt like I had ants in my pants. Today, parents and doctors all too often are quick to prescribe ADHD medication to any kid that shows a lack of focus or has a hard time sitting still in class. However, back when my dad was a kid and he demonstrated that he had ants in his pants in elementary school, the solution was to let him stand at his desk or in the back of the classroom so he could stretch out his arms and legs and bounce around in place without disturbing the other students.

My parents, who wanted to help channel my overflowing energy into something constructive, enrolled me in a Tae Kwon Do karate class in an after-school program at my elementary school. I loved it! Punching, kicking, yelling out yah! after a sequence of moves—it felt amazing. After completing a tough class, I felt a sense of accomplishment and pride. After just a few weeks of karate classes, I felt more confident and yes, more focused. My parents and I agreed that karate was for me, so they enrolled me at a Tae Kwon Do school near my home on Long Island, in Merrick, New York, where I could attend classes on a regular basis.

Tae Kwon Do became a big part of my young life and stayed that way until I graduated high school. I remember climbing the karate ranks from white belt to yellow, from yellow to green, then orange, then red, then brown. Ultimately, I earned my black belt in tenth grade, at the age of 16. The higher I climbed the ranks, the greater the time commitment became. I recall as a brown belt, going to class sometimes as much as four times a week and also attending tournaments on the weekends. Just like in the movie classic that premiered in 1984, I became The Karate Kid.

I recall fighting in tournaments as my mother, Beth Fink, watched—cringing the entire match. The thought of her little boy getting punched and kicked by kids twice his size was almost unbearable for her to watch. Yet, I was never afraid facing off against anyone because I had developed such self-confidence from my intense training. Perhaps I had a secret advantage—meditation.

My Tae Kwon Do teachers taught us how to meditate as beginner white belts. We meditated together in every class and were taught visualization techniques to enhance the process. While in meditation, we were asked to imagine ourselves performing activities with the highest level of excellence. While first taught to imagine doing karate moves, we eventually learned how to use meditation and visualization to prepare to fight in tournaments. Many times, I envisioned defeating much bigger opponents and recall visualizing before the match how I would do it. I could see myself dancing around my opponents, using my quick footwork. Just when the bigger opponent would get frustrated at my movements in the ring, I would strike with a series of kicks and punches at lightning speed.

Looking back now, it felt like I was channeling the great boxer Muhammad Ali, considered by many to be the greatest boxer of all time. Ali was known for saying, Float like a butterfly, sting like a bee. Muhammad Ali was also known for his overly self-confident nature, and he took every opportunity to tell people that he was the greatest. Ali, a spiritual man who converted to Islam later in life, perhaps studied Buddhism along the way. It was Buddha, the father of that eastern philosophy who said, What we think, we become. The idea of manifesting our thoughts into our physical reality was later popularized in the book and film The Secret. The Secret reintroduced Buddha’s teachings in a new way called the law of attraction.

Simply, the law of attraction is the belief system that by focusing on positive or negative thoughts, a person brings positive or negative experiences into his life. This belief system is based on the idea that people and their thoughts are both made from pure energy and that through the process of like energy attracting like energy, a person can improve his health, wealth and personal relationships. Just like all of the other laws in the universe, the law of attraction is at work all the time. Once we realize that we can manifest our thoughts into reality, life gets much more interesting. In my childhood, I mostly thought about karate and, of course, baseball. I didn’t realize it then, but I was practicing the law of attraction.

CHAPTER TWO

The Scooter Years

The Baseball Gods will take care of you today.

—Bob Melvin

I WAS ALWAYS THE SMALLEST KID ON MY BASEBALL TEAMS. However, my size never prevented me from having success on the field. I had passion. I was tenacious. I also was blessed to be really, really fast.

It was my speed and quickness that earned me the nickname Scooter from my dad. Phil Rizzuto, the New York Yankees shortstop in the 1940s and 1950s, was nicknamed The Scooter. Years before I was born, Scooter Rizzuto spent his entire 13-year baseball career with the Yankees (1941–1956, including three years of military service), and was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1994. Rizzuto was part of the Yankees dynasty, which captured 10 American League titles and 7 World Series championships in his 13 seasons. Phil’s best statistical season was 1950, when he was named the American League’s Most Valuable Player. Rizzuto was known for his strong defense in the infield and was also regarded as one of the best bunters in baseball history. To be a good bunter, you’ve got to be fast, like a scooter!

I cherished the time my dad spent with me playing baseball, like he had done with his dad. We had catches out in the street in front of our house all the time, and my dad always took the opportunity to teach me about the game of baseball. While having our catch, or at a major league game, or just watching the game on TV at home, my dad was always giving me baseball tips. Many times, while watching a baseball game on television, my dad would make a comment to me and then we would chuckle when the announcer would say that very same thing just a few seconds later. I think my dad enjoyed it the most when he talked about going to the Polo Grounds as a kid with my Grandpa Norman to watch his favorite player, Willie Mays, play for the New York Giants.

Willie Howard Mays, Jr. (born May 6, 1931), nicknamed The Say Hey Kid, spent almost all of his 22-season career playing for the New York and San Francisco Giants. He was elected to the Baseball Hall of Fame in 1979. My dad would boast that Willie Mays was the best and most well-rounded baseball player of all time. Mays ended his career with 660 home runs, had eight consecutive 100-RBI seasons, and earned 12 Gold Glove Awards for exceptional defense beginning in 1957, when the award was introduced.

My dad was 11 years old in 1957, when the New York Giants decided to leave the Polo Grounds in Upper Manhattan, NY and move the team to San Francisco. My dad was emotionally crushed. Baseball is a business, my dad used to always say—unfortunately for him, he learned that lesson the hard way.

As a result of my dad’s baseball broken heart, I was raised in a home where we rooted for both the Yankees and the Mets. I guess as an adult my father decided he would hedge his bets as he cheered for two New York baseball teams, knowing they both had a chance to win a pennant and also that it was unlikely both teams would move away at the same time. My dad’s love for Willie Mays and the New York Giants left a deep impression on me. I remember that my dad kept his old grey, black and orange New York Giants baseball jersey that he wore as a kid in his closet. After staring at that old New York Giants jersey in my dad’s closet for so many years, I decided one day in my freshman year of high school to try it on.

CHAPTER THREE

The Speech

Put me in coach, I’m ready to play.

—John Fogerty, from the song Centerfield

DURING MY HIGH SCHOOL YEARS AT JOHN F. KENNEDY High School in Bellmore, NY, I was a much better soccer player than baseball player, so I focused on making the soccer team. On the first day of soccer tryouts my sophomore year, the varsity coach pulled me aside and told me to start practicing with the varsity team on the other side of the field. While I was excited to be playing for the varsity team, I realized very quickly that the juniors and seniors on the team held all the starting positions and I would barely see the field during the first few weeks of the season. I grew frustrated not getting my chance to play. It also pained me to know that my dad left work early to attend my soccer matches, only to watch me sit on the bench the entire time. I knew how hard my dad worked and how difficult it was to commute to and from the city every day. I appreciated that he always took time away from the office to support me and watch me play sports. However, watching my dad watch me consistently sitting on the bench was starting to eat away at my soul, and I knew something needed to change.

I recall how shocked the varsity coach was when I asked him to move me down to junior varsity so I could get some significant playing time to improve my skills. I rejoined the varsity team my junior year. The coach was very surprised and told me that I was the first player ever to ask to move down from varsity to junior varsity in all his years of coaching. He then told me that I had earned his respect. The entire time I rode the bench during my sophomore year, I kept thinking of the John Fogerty song called Centerfield. The chorus of the song includes the line, Put me in coach, I’m ready to play.

During my sophomore year of high school, my mom suggested I run for class president. My first reaction was, Mom, one of the most popular kids in school gets to be class president, who would vote for me over him? However, as the days passed, the idea became more and more intriguing to me. One day, I tested the waters at lunch by telling some girlfriends that I was thinking about running for class president. They looked at me like I had gone mad. Well, despite the potential embarrassment and peer humiliation of running and losing the election, I decided to go for it. Perhaps I was unknowingly helped by the Baseball Gods.

As I was writing my speech for the upcoming election, a thought entered my mind and I started to once again think about the song Centerfield. I remembered the feeling of sitting on the soccer team bench during games my sophomore year and how badly I wanted the chance to play. I recall thinking over and over Put me in coach, I’m ready to play, and at that moment the theme for my speech became clear.

I recall admiring the old New York Giants little league jersey my dad kept in his bedroom closet, and I decided to wear that jersey on stage when I gave my campaign speech. The little league jersey was grey with black numbers and orange trim, just like the old New York Giants uniform Willie Mays used to wear. I decided it would be a good idea to use the analogy of baseball and the song Centerfield. The song was popular at that time and even to this day, it is rare for a professional baseball game to be completed without this song playing, just like the classic baseball song Glory Days by Bruce Springsteen is always played at ballparks around the country. In my speech, I used the song as a metaphor. My classmates were the coach, and I was the pitcher, who desperately wanted the chance to play and prove himself to all of them. The last words of my speech were, Put me in coach, I’m ready to play. I remember the roar of applause from my classmates when I finished my speech. They loved it!

In an amazing upset, this undersized, but fast, sophomore—with big, bushy, curly, strawberry-blond hair, standing in front of his classmates dressed in an old-fashioned New York Giants baseball jersey—won the class election in an overwhelming victory. It turns out that being friends with everyone, and not just the cool kids, made a big difference in the world of high school politics. I went on to become the first student in my high school’s history to be sophomore, junior, and then senior class president.

As senior class president, I worked hard to create activities to raise money for our senior class. Our biggest achievement was re-opening the old snack stand at our track and field competitions and at football games. In hindsight, operating the concession stand was my first chance to experience running a business. I really enjoyed those Friday night and Saturday afternoon events at our concession stand. I recall feeling pride and accomplishment after each activity, when we counted our profits. Even though our high school football team did not win many games, we did make a lot of money!

In my early years as a baseball enthusiast, I considered myself a New York Mets fan. The Mets were more popular than the Yankees on Long Island, where I grew up. The Yankees were more popular in other New York suburbs, like Westchester County, Rockland County, and in nearby suburbs in New Jersey. The Mets home field was at Shea Stadium and it was located in Queens, NY, which is much closer to where I grew up in Nassau County. Yankee Stadium was further away in the Bronx, NY, north of Manhattan.

The apex of my time as a Mets fan occurred when my uncle, Dr. Gary Koslow, invited me to attend game 1 of the 1986 World Series, when the New York Mets hosted the Boston Red Sox. It was a 1-0 pitcher’s duel between Bruce Hurst and Ron Darling. I remember game 1 of that series most fondly, but most baseball fans remember that the Mets won the series in seven games after overcoming a deficit of two runs in the bottom of the tenth inning in game 6. This was a game in which the Red Sox