thedrifter
03-18-07, 09:06 AM
Sunday, March 18, 2007
A Marine teaches Angels
GORDON DILLOW
Register columnist
GLDillow@aol.com
Can a Marine teach an Angel?
More specifically, can a U.S. Marine with combat experience in Iraq teach anything of value to up-and-coming professional baseball players?
The answer is yes. And a few days ago, I saw it happen.
The idea started a while back, when Tim Mead, vice president for communications for the Angels – and one of the all-time good guys in the sports business – asked me if I knew a Marine combat veteran who might be willing to speak to the Angels' minor-league players during spring training in Tempe, Ariz. He wanted a Marine to talk to them about such things as courage and discipline and selflessness and honor – things that for the Marines aren't just words, but core ideals.
And he wanted to show the young minor leaguers, some of whom may one day be bona fide sports heroes, what true heroism is all about.
"We want them to recognize that there's a reality outside of our own world," Tim told me. "We want them to hear about how the human spirit can hold out in the toughest, most dangerous conditions, how you can persevere and overcome any obstacle."
So did I know a Marine who could talk about that? You bet I did.
His name is Sgt. John "Mac" McFarling.
I've known John for four years, ever since I was an embedded reporter for the Register with his infantry unit, Camp Pendleton-based Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, first during the march up to Baghdad in 2003 and then again during his second Iraq tour in 2004. John, a lanky, 33-year-old Southern boy out of Alabama, and his lovely wife, Alyssa, now live in Coronado, where John is an instructor at the Amphibious Warfare School and where Alyssa recently gave birth to their first child, an 11-pound, 5-ounce boy named Andrew Brandon McFarling. (That's right, 11 pounds, 5 ounces.)
The bottom line is that I know John McFarling as a decorated combat leader, and as a friend, and as a man. And if there's anyone who can talk to young men about courage and values, it's him.
So last week John and I flew out to Tempe, and after watching some double-A and triple-A games at the Angels' new minor-league training facility, we were ushered into a room in front of about 160 professional baseball players. They were all young guys, most in their early 20s, guys who'll most likely spend years slugging it out in the minors for low pay and hard travel and a less than 1-in-10 shot at ever making it to the big leagues.
But they all have dreams of being the best – and in that sense, they're no different than a lot of young men and women in the U.S. military.
Ramrod straight, in immaculate dress uniform, John spoke to them about that – about being the best, about the value not only of hard work but of hardship. "Nothing brings men together like shared hardship," he said.
He talked about "muscle memory," the ceaseless training to prepare yourself to react instantly, without even thinking, in the critical moment when the bullets – or even the baseballs – are flying, and about the ability to reach inside yourself when you think there's nothing left and somehow find a little more.
"If you train hard enough, there'll always be something there when you need it most," he said.
He talked about the responsibility of a leader to those he leads, about how "I could never forgive myself if one of my men got hurt or killed because I didn't try hard enough." And he talked about selflessness and loyalty – loyalty up, loyalty down, loyalty to the man on your left and on your right.
"We don't fight for ourselves," John told them. "We do what we do for our brothers, our unit, our team. That's bigger than any one of us."
Well, I don't have space to capture it all. But by the end, most of the young professional athletes were in awe of the professional Marine. Dozens of them gathered around him, to shake his hand and ask him questions.
"Guys like that, in combat – it gives you a sense of perspective," Henry Bonilla, 27, a triple-A pitcher from Reno, Nev., told me.
"The teamwork aspect is the part that got to me, about taking care of your teammates," said Chris Pettit, 22, a first-season single-A outfielder from San Dimas. "That's important."
"It makes you think," said Jesse Smith, 26, a triple-A pitcher from Lincoln, Neb. "They're risking their lives so we can play a game."
Now, as I said, most of those young baseball players won't make it to the majors. But I suspect that what Sgt. McFarling told them, if taken to heart, will benefit them wherever their lives lead them.
And as for those few who do make it to the bigs, the very few who make it into the world of multimillion-dollar contracts and sports hero status, let's hope that they too will remember what Sgt. Mac had to say.
Because when it comes to knowing what's truly important in life, even Angels can learn from a Marine.
Contact the writer: Contact Gordon Dillow at 714-796-7953 or GLDillow@aol.com
Ellie
A Marine teaches Angels
GORDON DILLOW
Register columnist
GLDillow@aol.com
Can a Marine teach an Angel?
More specifically, can a U.S. Marine with combat experience in Iraq teach anything of value to up-and-coming professional baseball players?
The answer is yes. And a few days ago, I saw it happen.
The idea started a while back, when Tim Mead, vice president for communications for the Angels – and one of the all-time good guys in the sports business – asked me if I knew a Marine combat veteran who might be willing to speak to the Angels' minor-league players during spring training in Tempe, Ariz. He wanted a Marine to talk to them about such things as courage and discipline and selflessness and honor – things that for the Marines aren't just words, but core ideals.
And he wanted to show the young minor leaguers, some of whom may one day be bona fide sports heroes, what true heroism is all about.
"We want them to recognize that there's a reality outside of our own world," Tim told me. "We want them to hear about how the human spirit can hold out in the toughest, most dangerous conditions, how you can persevere and overcome any obstacle."
So did I know a Marine who could talk about that? You bet I did.
His name is Sgt. John "Mac" McFarling.
I've known John for four years, ever since I was an embedded reporter for the Register with his infantry unit, Camp Pendleton-based Alpha Company, 1st Battalion, 5th Marine Regiment, first during the march up to Baghdad in 2003 and then again during his second Iraq tour in 2004. John, a lanky, 33-year-old Southern boy out of Alabama, and his lovely wife, Alyssa, now live in Coronado, where John is an instructor at the Amphibious Warfare School and where Alyssa recently gave birth to their first child, an 11-pound, 5-ounce boy named Andrew Brandon McFarling. (That's right, 11 pounds, 5 ounces.)
The bottom line is that I know John McFarling as a decorated combat leader, and as a friend, and as a man. And if there's anyone who can talk to young men about courage and values, it's him.
So last week John and I flew out to Tempe, and after watching some double-A and triple-A games at the Angels' new minor-league training facility, we were ushered into a room in front of about 160 professional baseball players. They were all young guys, most in their early 20s, guys who'll most likely spend years slugging it out in the minors for low pay and hard travel and a less than 1-in-10 shot at ever making it to the big leagues.
But they all have dreams of being the best – and in that sense, they're no different than a lot of young men and women in the U.S. military.
Ramrod straight, in immaculate dress uniform, John spoke to them about that – about being the best, about the value not only of hard work but of hardship. "Nothing brings men together like shared hardship," he said.
He talked about "muscle memory," the ceaseless training to prepare yourself to react instantly, without even thinking, in the critical moment when the bullets – or even the baseballs – are flying, and about the ability to reach inside yourself when you think there's nothing left and somehow find a little more.
"If you train hard enough, there'll always be something there when you need it most," he said.
He talked about the responsibility of a leader to those he leads, about how "I could never forgive myself if one of my men got hurt or killed because I didn't try hard enough." And he talked about selflessness and loyalty – loyalty up, loyalty down, loyalty to the man on your left and on your right.
"We don't fight for ourselves," John told them. "We do what we do for our brothers, our unit, our team. That's bigger than any one of us."
Well, I don't have space to capture it all. But by the end, most of the young professional athletes were in awe of the professional Marine. Dozens of them gathered around him, to shake his hand and ask him questions.
"Guys like that, in combat – it gives you a sense of perspective," Henry Bonilla, 27, a triple-A pitcher from Reno, Nev., told me.
"The teamwork aspect is the part that got to me, about taking care of your teammates," said Chris Pettit, 22, a first-season single-A outfielder from San Dimas. "That's important."
"It makes you think," said Jesse Smith, 26, a triple-A pitcher from Lincoln, Neb. "They're risking their lives so we can play a game."
Now, as I said, most of those young baseball players won't make it to the majors. But I suspect that what Sgt. McFarling told them, if taken to heart, will benefit them wherever their lives lead them.
And as for those few who do make it to the bigs, the very few who make it into the world of multimillion-dollar contracts and sports hero status, let's hope that they too will remember what Sgt. Mac had to say.
Because when it comes to knowing what's truly important in life, even Angels can learn from a Marine.
Contact the writer: Contact Gordon Dillow at 714-796-7953 or GLDillow@aol.com
Ellie