The backstory
I was pretty smart as a kid which was to my advantage and earned me many favors from teachers. I was tall and lanky, but uncoordinated and socially awkward which was made me a prime target to be picked on. I was subjected to more teasing from the school yard bullies than any kid should have to bear. My grade school and preteen years were fairly lonely times when I would rather bury my head in a book than risk the brutal nature of kids on the playground. While most of that time is a blur, I remember specifically a few people who made life very difficult for me. For the most part I just put up with it and never stood up for myself. I do remember fighting back once while in 7th grade, when the years of rage had built up and I was pushed beyond my tipping point. There was this tough kid who took every opportunity to tease me and it was more than enough for him to make my life miserable. I finally stood up to him one day in the locker room after gym and landed a pretty good punch to his face. It barely left a mark and really did nothing to his deter his constant harassment, but at least I drew a line in the sand and said that I had enough.
I did play sports from an early age, but through my middle school years I had some significant growth spurts that made me very clumsy and in a lot of pain. I still have the stretch marks on my lower back from the year I grew six inches. I lacked the size or tenacity to play football, which ruled in our small town. I did excel at soccer and had a few very good years as an all star first baseman.
My dream
I am 15 years old and standing at the plate in one of our last Babe Ruth baseball games for Town & Country. We had an unbelievable team that went 15-0 that year and our lineup was stacked from top to bottom. Batting lead off and now standing on 3rd base was my boyhood friend, Scott Giuliani. Scott and I grew up just few blocks from each other, which meant we went to all the same schools, but I shared more than just proximity with Scott. We shared a birthday, and along with a couple of others, were inseparable all throughout our youth. Skeeter and I were best friends.
In the dream, I drive the ball to the fence, which was about right for me... never hitting for power but always hitting for average and driving in runs from the clean off spot. Coming into score after Scott were Andy LeBlanc and Don Bunin. I round first base in excitement knowing that we had won the game. Everyone from the bench was waiting at home plate, which also included our coaches (my dad, Andy's dad and Scott's dad Ernie). I cut through the infield and ran straight for home plate. When I finally find my way through the celebration to find Scott, he picks me up off the ground and is yelling that we won. When he finally puts me down, he gives me a big bear hug to celebrate.
The reality
Here is where the reality of today meets the dream. Even though I am just 15 years old in the dream, I know that in the present time I don't have a chance to see Scott again. I don't have a chance to thank him for standing up to me as the weakest member of our group of friends and for always having my back to the bullies of the playground. I don't have a chance to thank him for riding bikes with me or trading baseball cards with me or to even thank him and his brother Paul for picking me up for school everyday when it was clearly out of there way. I don't have a chance to tell him how much it meant for me as the uncool kid, to have such a cool best friend who never let his popularity go to his head. Scott continued to get better as a high school athlete and we tended to go our separate ways after that season of baseball but he was always my friend. Even as he was surrounded by the best athletes of our school, he never once picked on me, even when I probably made a pretty easy target.
Scott passed away a few years ago, so in reality I never got the chance to tell him what his friendship meant to me as a kid. I don't know that I knew it at the time or maybe it has taken all of these years to figure out, but he was one of the reasons why I made it through those tough years and have had the strength to go on today to be a successful runner today. I can see him running fast as lightning around the bases both a vivid memory of our childhood and like it was happening in real time of my dream. Sometimes when I am running a race I picture myself chasing him, knowing that I will never catch up.
In the dream, when Scott gave me the bear hug, I refused to let go. I just remember hanging on. While combining the reality of present with being 15 years old, I know that I won't have this chance again and I am not ready to let him go. He doesn't slip or fade away in the dream; I just wake up.
I don't live my life with regrets. I have made the best of every situation, worked very hard, gotten some lucky breaks and had help along the way by people like Scott. People who will stand up for you and stand by you through thick and thin. Right now Scott is sitting in heaven wearing his Detroit Tigers jersey, talking about baseball with his dad Ernie and they are looking down on me as I type. I don't regret missing the chance to tell him how much I appreciated his friendship because I know that he knows. Scott knows.
I don't regret this, but I also am not going to lose another opportunity to tell those people around me how much I appreciate them.