The Seven Innings That Changed Me
Greatness isn’t measured only in stats, but in the lift we give each other.
At the 2006 MLB All-Star Game, I had a seat that was more gift than ticket. Beside me sat an older gentleman whose father used to run a corner store in Oakland. For seven innings, he offered stories that wove the Pirates into the daily fabric of Pittsburgh — tales of Roberto Clemente tossing a ball with any kid brave enough to ask, joining stickball games under the July sun, popping by the store to check on his dad, or sneaking into the ballpark just to feel close to the game and friends.
Baseball in this city is more than a sport. It’s a way each generation shows up — for family, for strangers, and for a sense of community you can feel in a handshake or the crack of a bat.
As the game stretched on, his voice grew softer. He told me about the winter day he learned Roberto Clemente had died. He described it as losing an older brother, the sort whose kindness reached past fences and found you wherever you were. After a quiet pause, he looked out at PNC Park and repeated the line that Clemente himself left behind: “Any time you have an opportunity to make a difference in this world and you don’t, then you are wasting your time on Earth.”
He shared how those words shaped everything since — every small act, every chance to honor the legacy by being present, honest, and generous. He hoped I’d carry the dream forward, too.
Pittsburgh was always more than milestones: the All-Star games, the rush of a big crowd, the pride in black and gold, and the good fortune to see legends play. Its true heart is found in small stores, in children finding heroes among them, and in the way people remember to give. Clemente’s shoes are enormous — filled by a ballplayer, a son, a neighbor, and a citizen of the world. Every day, trying to live up to that feels like the most important thing.
This week, write your own story of someone who made a simple difference in your life. Maybe it was a few words or an act quiet enough to go unnoticed by most. How did it change you? What do you do to keep the dream alive in your own way?
“Legends leave a light. Our job is to walk by it — and maybe shine it, just a little, for someone else.”