By Michael Morse
“It’s not the uniform, it’s the person wearing it who makes it more than just cotton, stitches, patches and polyester.”
That little gem of insight came to me yesterday as I drove to work while listening to the Red Sox spring training game. Tim Wakefield was in the booth talking between pitches. I found myself lost in a bit of nostalgia as they talked about the World Series wins, knuckleballs, the records, and the joy of baseball.
Tim mentioned how they make rearview mirrors small and windshields big, and how driving while looking backward is not such a great way to go, because the view forward is so much more interesting. I had to laugh as I checked my own mirror and windshield and agreed with the old knuckleballer.
Heroes.
Uniforms.
Sports stars?
Cops. Soldiers. Firefighters. EMTs and paramedics, now those are the real uniforms! Or maybe not. Maybe a sports star can be a hero, with just as much to give to the world as the “other” uniforms. Maybe their contribution to the world has just as much value, maybe not in a life and death way, but valid nonetheless.
I’ve gotten far more enjoyment watching sports, and have far more fond memories and great times surrounding a sports event than I ever did when surrounded by the police. (That only happened once or twice, and I didn’t do it.)
We all have our own niche, and how we choose to live our lives and handle the daily grind is our own business, and if we choose to wear that uniform heroically, well, good for us!
I have chosen to wear the uniform of The Providence Fire Department. To me, that is the greatest uniform in the world, even when it’s threadbare, torn, and dirty. I actually like it even better — might not be as crisp, but it suits me fine.
