Looking back

The following is an old newspaper column I wrote when I was the sports editor at The Athens Messenger. It was written sometime early in January 2005, and might be one of my favorite pieces of writing I've ever assembled. It's funny reading this over three years later to think about the many things which have changed, yet the many things which have stayed the same. Enjoy.

When the sun calmly and peacefully rises tomorrow morning, set aside a moment to soak in its astonishing beauty.

Maybe you'll catch a peek through the window as you wake up in the comfort of your warm, welcoming bed. Maybe you'll see it on your drive to work with the heat blasting, a cup of coffee in hand, and a radio disc jockey keeping you company. No matter how you choose to look at it, it won't be anything like the way Aaron Dowis sees it. In fact, it's amazing to comprehend that you're even viewing the same star in the sky, considering the drastically different backdrops.

Aaron is a specialist in the 1st battalion of the 21st infantry unit of the U.S. Army in Iraq. He wanted to be an army ranger, but he broke his collarbone in airborne school, so the army stationed him in Hawaii before sending him abroad. Each time Aaron watches the sun rise, he's one day closer to coming home. He and his comrades are heading back to Hawaii in mid-February. Their replacements have just arrived, so the mission for each individual is simple: keep Iraq as stable as possible during the upcoming elections, then get the hell out of there.

He's been in the war-torn country for 15 months. He's 21 years old, he loves baseball, and he has a beautiful girlfriend whom he's seen 14 days in the last two years. He gets out of the army in September, when he'll finally get to go to college.

Aaron is a completely, totally normal American man. Growing up, Aaron was probably just like your typical kid next door. Actually, for me, Aaron was the kid next door.

Living on a farm 45 minutes north of Columbus, Aaron and I formed a friendship around one common bond: an absolutely obsessive passion for sports. There wasn't a whole lot else we had alike. He wanted to move to rural Texas and become a farmer; I wanted to move to New York City and be a big-time sports journalist. He loves his country music; I listen to alternative rock. He drove a shiny, blue pick-up truck; I zipped around in a tiny, rusted sedan. He worked in his family's barns with horses, chicken and swine; I worked at an uppity, high-end ice cream parlor. But the years we spent playing makeshift sports as the only guys within miles of each other created some of the best memories of my life. For Aaron, they are memories of an America that he hasn't seen in over a year.

We played basketball on a hoop nailed to a post on a barn, dribbling on a dirt floor with ruts which gave Aaron a definite home-court advantage. We made first-down chains with wood from a broken fence post and yarn. We lived out our dreams pitching BP to each other using the walls of the horses' home as a backstop.

They were dreams of stepping to the plate in the bottom of the ninth inning during Game Seven. Those dreams faded long ago for me, but they are dreams that keep Aaron going everyday among the gunshots, chaos and detonating bombs.

"I've decided to go and try out for a minor league baseball club," Dowis told me recently in an email from Iraq. Why shouldn't he? If he can survive more than a year of war, then surviving a couple of cuts at spring training certainly isn't unreasonable. "I know it's a long shot," he admitted, "but at least I would never tell myself I didn't try. I don't think I would ever forgive myself if I just didn't do it."

Aaron certainly has a lot working against him. He'll be competing against players who workout 12 months a year, some of whom are undoubtedly using illegal performance-enhancing drugs. While those ballplayers are busy cheating, Aaron's preoccupied with other things, like protecting their freedom.

"I don't have a lot of time to train over here," Dowis added. "But a buddy of mine helps me out as much as he can just to keep the rust off."

So while Roger Clemens is asking for $22 million through arbitration, Aaron Dowis is only asking for a chance. That wasn't meant to take a cheap shot at Clemens. Compared to the work (and pay) of military men and women, every baseball player gets too much money. But hey, that's America. The America Aaron is risking his life to defend.

He didn't get to see any of the historic 2004 World Series. He said it's the first time he can ever remember missing the Fall Classic of the national pastime.

Think about that. While Republicans and Democrats were endlessly bickering last October, the Boston Red Sox actually won the World Series, and Aaron Dowis missed it. It was the on-field sports story of the millennium, and it was hardly even on this baseball lover's mind. While we were so worried about who would lead the nation, we forgot that what's really important is the people who make up the nation. Aaron has sacrificed because he wants the world to be a better place, and America is a better country because he's a part of it.

Aaron and millions of others have kept us safe so we can try to achieve the American Dream. Soon, it will be time for Aaron to chase his dream of playing baseball. Remember, his goal was to be an army ranger, and he always wanted to live in Texas, so maybe he can get the best of both worlds by playing for the franchise George W. Bush used to own: The Texas Rangers.

As far as I'm concerned, whether he makes a team or not is irrelevant. What's important is that Aaron Dowis embodies the purest love of a game that is most identifiable with his country. Aaron is someone we need to root for, whether it's praying for his safe return or applauding his trip to the plate. And if he gets there, we can finally return to the days of Bob Feller and Ted Williams, the days when we cheer on true sports heroes.