Why Ernie Banks became my spiritual leader

And how I enjoyed learning I'll never make a living as a cowboy

My dad was a lifelong Cubs fan. He was born in 1921, and he died in 2002, and in his 81 years, the Cubs never won the World Series. But he and the multitude of Cubs fans kept the faith. Just wait until next year!

When I was about 6 years old, my team lost a game, and I complained to my dad that it wasn’t fair. Dad told me that it actually had been a fair game, and the other team legitimately won; in most games, someone wins and someone loses, and that’s the way it goes.

I told him that I didn’t like losing, and he told me that I was going to have to get used to it if I wanted to compete, because nobody wins all the time. Besides, it’s really OK to lose, because the final score isn’t the only point.

Dad pointed to Ernie Banks, who - even when the Cubs were deep in the bottom of the National League standings - would say, “It’s a beautiful day for a ballgame. Let’s play two today.” Winning a couple of games wasn’t going to have any bearing on the outcome of the season; the Cubs were still going to be in last place. That didn’t matter, because it’s a beautiful day, and you don’t have to be the champion in order to have fun playing the game.

To my first-grade mind, this was profoundly enlightening. Just playing the game on a beautiful day is a worthy pursuit!

Mr. Cub became my spiritual guide.

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This is one of my favorite pictures of me as a teacher.

During the Extended School Year (ESY, often referred to as summer school,) we did theme weeks, such as rock star week, Hawaii week, pirate week, and cowboy week. Our books, songs, art projects, classroom decor, worksheets, and activities all reflected the theme. Sometimes we had special guests to teach us skills and give us experiences such as playing drums and electric guitars, dancing the hula, and roping.

The laughing cowboy in the picture is a champion rodeo roper, reacting to my skill with the lasso.

First, he gave a performance of fancy rope tricks worthy of the old time movie cowboys. Then he coached each of us to throw the lasso.

As the teacher, I went first to demonstrate the task. I tried 3 times, and I utterly failed. The rope just fell at my feet each time, no matter how enthusiastically I yelled, “Yee-haw!”

But some of our special education students suddenly revealed an incredible gift for roping. Several amazed themselves by being able to spin the rope and throw it like a pro. Children who had a difficult time grasping a pencil or putting on a jacket were rodeo stars in the making. It was amazing and wonderful, with a lot of laughter and cheering. They loved being more competent than the teacher.

Later that day, I told the class that I was thinking of quitting my job as a teacher and becoming a cowboy instead. When they were able to stop laughing, they advised me to stick with teaching, because I was one of the worst cowboys in the whole class.

Thanks to Ernie Banks, the day I found out I had no aptitude for roping was one of the best days of my teaching career.