One of my Torah teachers, Rabbi Aharon Rakeffet, is an avid baseball fan. He sees baseball as particularly engaging for students of Talmud. His reasons? “Because it’s slow-moving and you can think,” he said. “Every play requires you to ponder what to do. How shall I react to the reality that I see on the playing field? What play are you going to use? In other sports, it’s quick; you don’t ponder what will happen next. Things move very fast in basketball and football. But in baseball you have questions. Is the pitcher or the batter a left-hander, a right-hander, will the fielders pull the infield in, push the outfield back, give up the run, worry about the bunt, go for the double play, the squeeze, should he steal, what do you do, put him in scoring position, hit away. There’s so much involved that you have time to think. To me, if you have that Talmudic mind, it’s one of the reasons you like baseball.”
The Talmudic mind is on display in Fastball, an intellectually engaging documentary about the fastest pitch in baseball, but also a trip down memory lane visiting the baseball greats of the past. The narration by Kevin Costner focuses on the confrontation between batter and pitcher that is fraught with tension and peril. The ball is thrown upwards of 100 miles per hour toward the batter’s head. The pitcher intimidates while the batter exhibits caution, vigilance, and nerves of steel. The film considers the extent to which the speed of the ball influences the success of the pitcher and the ultimate outcome of the game.
Tracing the origins of the fastball compels one to visit the evolutionary history of baseball by interviewing celebrated players from both the past and present. Moreover, there is a scientific/mathematical analysis of the speed of the ball from the pitcher’s mound to the batter’s box, which enables the viewer to understand fully the impact of speed on the ball’s rotation.
After considering which pitcher has the best fastball, there is a vignette about a pitcher who is no longer remembered by the vast majority of fans and players even though he was reputed to have the fastest pitch. Why is this? Because even though he had the fastest pitch, he lacked consistent control of the ball. Speed alone does not make winners; only when speed is harnessed to control does winning occur.
This sensibility of balancing speed with control and mastery existed in Jewish academies of learning in the past and exists today as well. In many of these post-high school institutions of learning, there are two categories of classes. One class moves with alacrity and covers lots of Talmudic ground, but does not go deeply into the text. The second, more advanced class, moves more slowly and spends lots of time analyzing the nuances of the text. The great scholars emerge out of the second group of classes, which not only covers ground, but enables students to attain mastery of a topic. Speed alone does not produce success.
Fastball ultimately informs us that Nolan Ryan had the fastest pitch along with the most control of the ball. Interestingly, he had a long baseball career pitching for a number of teams.
It is this mindset of being both fast and controlled that contributes to success in all areas of life. When we are energetic and quick and combine that with a thoughtful demeanor, we increase our chances for success in life. In the Ethics of the Fathers, we are told to rise like a lion and be as swift as a deer, but we are also cautioned to be deliberate in judgment. Speed unfettered by reason leads to accidents. Speed buttressed by the attribute of control leads to success.
In one of the Israeli schools in which I taught, the students in one particular seventh grade class were mostly interested in parroting back information. The typical question I received was “can I read the next paragraph” or “what was my grade on the last test?” It was rare to hear a question that reflected a thinking, active intellect.
There have been times in my rabbinic and educational career when I tried to enlist the aid of friends to move a particular project forward. I would speak to many acquaintances, all of whom gave me warm expressions of support. But when it was crunch time, they were with me in spirit only, but not in terms of giving me dollars for my project.
A friend of mine and his wife occasionally have discussions about whom to invite for Friday night Sabbath dinners. She favors inviting old friends. He prefers inviting new faces because he wants to know those who are unknown. He prefers the unpredictability of new faces and feels that the good deed of inviting people to one’s home is better fulfilled when one does not know the guests beforehand.
A “lone soldier” home is located around the corner from me. What is a “lone soldier?” He is a volunteer who serves in the Israel Defense Forces even though he has no immediate family with him or her in Israel. Reliable sources tell us there are over 6000 of them serving in the army.
A couple of years ago, a friend of mine was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s Disease. I did not see him often, so it was unnerving for me to see him so helpless and confused when I finally visited him. Once a robust, intelligent, and expressive man, he was a shadow of his former self, needing almost 24- hour care. Now his family only had memories of the great man he once was.
I am 73 years old, and since coming to Israel six years ago, I am officially a vatik, a senior citizen entitled to discounts on the bus and to reduced admissions at sundry places. Some people actually offer me their seats on public transportation. It makes me uncomfortable to be the recipient of these kindnesses and to realize that, at least in the eyes of some, I am old. I always thought the other guy was old and I was not, but that illusion is now shattered.
As a high school principal, I often found myself multitasking. Professionally, I was teaching, administrating, and trying to raise money to pay salaries. Personally, I was trying to be an exemplary father and husband.
Divorce is often painful for husband and wife, but most certainly for children. It is an emotional upheaval, leaving many damaged souls in its wake. As a synagogue rabbi for a number of years, I generally encouraged people contemplating divorce to stay married, but they usually came to me after the die for divorce was cast.
For the past several years, I have been teaching in a middle school and a high school in Israel. I have observed that in dealing with 7th and 8th graders, the students tend to be very self-absorbed, interested only in what they have to say and not paying attention to the comments of others. In the high school, I see students more respectful of each other, more willing to listen to the opinions of a peer. There I see more students sensitive to the Biblical notion of “loving your neighbor as yourself.” Just as you would want to be heard, so too should you listen to the words of your neighbor and give his comments respect even when you disagree with him.
Kosher Movies 