I’m so bored. After playing outside all day, I sit in my room. Nothing to do now for this 11 year old. Moments ago, I finished my supper – Mom made pork chops with mash potatoes. I suppose I can doodle until bedtime. As I reach for my pencil box I hear, “Get your shoes on!” That could mean one thing – we’re going out! I throw on my Converse, untied, and run into the living room. 

We’re going to Bay Area Park. On the way out, I pet my cat Jake then pile into the car. We’re on our way. As we start the long drive down Red Bluff Road, I listen to the tires hit the uneven slats in the concrete. 

We reach the park and slowly drive down to the water. The park touches the banks of Armand Bayou. Once stopped, I quickly get out of the car. I run toward the boardwalk that rests over the bayou. Before entering, I look back to my parents who are standing by the car. They both wave me on. With exhilaration and a smile, I run across the old wood planks until I reach the end. 

The railing is covered with the names of those before me; those who crossed this very path. While standing firm, I lean against the rail and look out over the still, muddy water. There is a light breeze with birds flying about. I look to the shore, watching the gentle sway of the trees. And I hear music. Maybe it’s the sound of nature or angels above. I’m not sure. But the music moves me and I feel at peace. 

After many years, I am back in college. As with most students, I am stressed. There are deadlines to meet and grades to make. Life is different now. With the importance of school and family, my focus has changed. I have responsibility. Many times, I fail to meet expectations and just go through the motions – it wears on me.

Along the way, I lost my innocence. 

I close my eyes and go back. Back to the old, splintered boardwalk. I’m a kid again. I feel quiet and peaceful. And the music plays.

The alarm clock goes off playing a new song by Bon Jovi -"You Give Love a Bad Name". My parents left for work and I’m struggling to get out of bed. As with any typical high school senior in 1986, I would rather sleep the day away. I need a hot shower to wake up. 

In the bathroom, I adjust the water to my liking. Before jumping in, I stare into the mirror. Thoughts of life, death and breakfast fill my head. Slowly, my face fades with the steam. 

Once clean and dressed for success, I find myself in the kitchen having breakfast – microwave popcorn and a coke. As usual, I’m running late. I finish the corn, drink half the coke and fly out of the house, letting the screen door slam. I jog down the street to Mike’s house. He’s waiting for me in his ’69 Mustang. 

Once at school, I sift through the kids roaming the halls. We’re like ants in an ant farm. Moments before the bell, I reach my locker. I grab my books and my unfinished report on Babe Ruth. Note to self: Finish report on the Babe. Before walking into class, I see her. Sarah is down the hall, talking to her friends. She is beautiful. And I am a wreck. 

I first saw Sarah in summer band. I was playing trumpet and she was hitting the snare. She was cute, tan, and goofy. Her smile rocked my world and I was infatuated. On occasion, we would smile at each other and quietly flirt. I knew she was too good for me but I hoped for a chance. One chance to woo her. For her to fall for me. 

As I walk into class, I give one last glance and she smiles. My heart leaps from my chest and I decide at that moment… today is the day! I will proclaim my love and conquer my fear. I decide to confront Sarah during lunch. 

I finish my pizza and fries. In my mind, I replay the upcoming encounter again and again. My friends encourage me to stand up and seize the day! I walk to her table and clear my throat. Sarah turns to me as the cafeteria falls silent. I look into her warm, dark eyes and ask, "Will you go out with me?” She smiles with that impish smile and says, “Umm… I don’t think so.” 

I stand there. Dead inside. I feel like John Cusack with a busted boom box. Laughter fills the air as I slowly walk away - down the long, dim hall to the restroom. Once inside, I repeatedly slam my head into the wall. While grabbing the sink I stare into the mirror. I
ask myself why? How will I be able to face Sarah, my friends or anyone else again? 

It’s been 27 years since that day of reckoning. Did I ever get over that surreal experience? Yes… well maybe. That terrific moment was one of many that made me who I am today. My life has had its ups and downs. And boy was that a downer. 

Looking back, I realize the importance of that day. Although a day of rejection and shame, it proved to be much more. It was the day I threw caution to the wind and went for it! Win or lose, I think what mattered most was the effort. The decision to go for it. 

Later that fateful day, I finished my report on Babe Ruth. While adding quotes to the piece, I ran across something he said which made me smile. 

“Never let the fear of striking out get in your way.”