Lucky 7 - 45 Years Later

In Las Vegas, they were calling it the luckiest day of the century. It was the 7th day of the 7th month of the 77th year of the 19th century (7/7/77). I was a 16-year-old high school baseball player, excited to have been invited to play with some of the best players in Miami Dade County on an American Legion summer baseball team. 

But my "lucky 7" good fortune would come years later, as that day would forever imprint a not so lucky experience in my life. It was a sunny Thursday afternoon in South Florida and we were playing a star-studded Legion team from Hialeah at Miami Stadium, then Spring Training home of the Baltimore Orioles. Like my teammates, I was excited to play on the grounds where the greats, Brooks and Frank Robinson played.

With a runner on first base and one out, I was looking to turn a double play on any ground ball hit to the infield. The batter was Nick Esasky, who just two years later, would become a first round draft pick by the Cincinnati Reds. Esasky hit a ground ball in the hole at shortstop so I raced for second to await the throw. It was a difficult play for the shortstop, but he made the best throw he could. Unfortunately, the throw forced me to turn away from the baseline and the oncoming runner. As fate would have it, the runner made hard contact with my lower left leg just as I was planting it to complete the throw toward first base. The anguish was instant, as I fell to the ground in pain. But after visits from both coaches and a pause in the game, I decided to try and complete the inning, rather than being taken out of the game. Little did I realize that I would play the next two outs with a broken fibula bone. My prayers were answered when neither of the next two batters hit the ball my way.

I didn't know how I was going to make it to the dugout, as each step elicited sharp pain. Thankfully, our first baseman Carlos Iglesias, ran back out toward me, put my arm around his shoulder and waited for our centerfielder, Marcelo Sigler, to the same with my other arm. Together, they helped me hop on one leg to the dugout. Just 14 years later, Sigler would sadly lose his life at 31 in a workplace shooting. But Iglesias and I would cross paths again as we each coached travel baseball teams in our city. And 45 years since that "lucky 7" day, this mild-mannered high school baseball coach has played a key role in helping me prepare for the Reds Fantasy Camp. I'm blessed and thankful to still have him on my team.