In three decades, I learned there are moments when everything hinges on a word of encouragement. Though it may seem small, in that moment, failure to get “the win” brings a significant risk of giving up. I observed this before I was old enough to understand it, but I have never forgotten how the smallest chance and word of encouragement could shape someone’s courage.
It was in elementary school, as we stood anxiously on the sidelines while the “big boys” picked teams for their daily ball game. We would hustle to the front of the queue, and if we failed to be picked we would move behind the catcher and compete ferociously for every ball he failed to snag. By showcasing our eagerness, we hoped to convince one of the captains to pick us next time around.
There was one short, chubby kid, named Tony, who wanted to play so badly. He would push to the head of the line, punch his fist into his glove, and we all knew he was crossing his fingers until they hurt inside his mitt. Finally, one day, they took pity on Tony and picked him.
Chosen to be first at bat, he walked to home plate and picked up an aluminum bat as tall as he was. Feet apart, he flexed his arms and waited for the pitch.
The softball arced toward him and he swung valiantly… hitting nothing but air. I’m not sure what he was expecting, but it wasn’t that. Embarrassed, but determined, he stepped up and tapped the tip of the bat on the board serving for home plate. In jest, the “big boys” filled the playground with a chant: To-ny! To-ny! To-ny!
They were being more than a little disingenuous, but Tony didn’t know it. He straightened up his shoulders and when the ball was lobbed at him this time, he took a step forward and with all his might, swung the bat. Again, nothing but air.
Wanting desperately not to disappoint the heroes who had taken a chance on him, and were even now chanting his name, he shook out his shoulders like a pro and prepared for the next pitch.
The pitcher stepped off the mound, moved closer to the plate, and with exaggerated motions, lobbed the ball in Tony’s direction. It came as if in slow motion and, desperate, Tony swung! To everyone’s shock, especially Tony’s, a solid “thunk” was heard as the ball and bat unexpectedly collided.
The ball shot upward a dozen feet before falling to the ground and doing that thing a softball does… spinning itself back behind home plate, making this a foul. However, by the time the ball hit the ground, Tony had thrown his bat aside and sprinted 1/3 of the way to first base. Tony wasn’t just chasing the base, he was chasing the dream of belonging and somehow all the boys recognized it!
Someone started to call him back, but acknowledging the futility of such action the chant spontaneously morphed: “Run, Tony, Run!” So, Tony ran.
His short little legs churned the grass as he rounded first where the first baseman began to yell, “Run, Tony, Run!”
Cheers erupted from the sidelines as the onlookers saw what was taking place and joined in: “Run, Tony, Run!”
I remember like it was yesterday, the second baseman catching the ball and artfully conceal it in his glove as he waved Tony toward third. “Run, Tony, Run!”
This continued until Tony crossed home plate, out of breath, but so excited he could barely talk. He bounced around and exchanged high fives with the “big boys” before flopping down in the grass, breathing hard but soaking up every second of this magnificent moment.
Uncharacteristically for grade-school boys, none of us wanted to hurt Tony’s feelings by telling him the truth — he had been duped into running the bases on a foul ball. Perhaps some part of us didn’t care. Maybe we were jealous of his accomplishment and coveted similar cheers for ourselves one day.
In any case, Tony never played ball the same again. From that day forward, he jostled less to be at the front of the line. He had proved he could be picked, he could hit the ball, and he certainly could run the bases!
I don’t remember any of his other home runs — or even if he made any. But I’ve never forgotten that one, or the lesson I learned from it. Sometimes, your best shot isn’t as good as you hoped it would be. Sometimes, it’s not good at all. But making connection with the ball, even if it isn’t as powerful as we hoped, is enough for now. This is especially true if we have surrounded ourselves with people more concerned with encouraging one another than simply looking out for themselves.
I’m not sure what long-term impact this made on Tony. But, I’m surprised, frankly, at the impact it made on me. When I think of that moment I am reminded we are fortunate to have people in our lives who will celebrate bigger than the moment deserves, just because they know we need it.
For certain, it has helped me to see value in my own “Tonys,” and challenged me, as a leader, to create opportunities for small wins in order to build a culture of encouragement. It reminds me people will rise to meet our expectations if they believe their imperfect attempts will not disqualify them, but be treated as stepping stones to further development. It also demonstrates when a ball rolls foul, we can still celebrate the heart of the player… and what is more important than that?
We all know a Tony, so what if we took a chance and invited him onto our team? What might happen if we just let them swing, run, and score — all while doing our version of “Run, Tony, Run!”
Tony may become a sales leader or a legal closer. More importantly, Tony may become a good man, a great husband, or a wonderful father. And chances are, he will pick a Tony of his own one day… because the memory of hearing his name that summer day and the feelings of worth it represented, will remind him encouragement isn’t just a gift we offer in a moment, but a legacy we can pass forward.
So, who is your “Tony”? Who in your life is waiting for a chance to swing, to run, to prove they belong—if only someone would believe in them first? What could happen if you were the one to cheer them on? Remember the greatest leaders don’t just build teams — they build people. And that may be as simple as hearing you say, “Run, Tony, Run!”
