6 Things Hank Aaron Taught Me About Life

Thank You, Henry Louis Aaron

Darryl Brooks

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Image by Author; Autograph by Hank Aaron

I saw Hank Aaron for the first time in 1966. It was the Braves’ first season in Atlanta. I don’t remember who we played, but I do remember we lost. My cousin, who was a bit younger than my eight years, cried. I should have told him there’s no crying in baseball.

But the one thing I do remember about that day was when number 44 came to bat. There was both a hush and a buzz in the crowd. I could hear my uncles saying, here he comes, Hank’s at bat. Watching him that day was like riding a roller coaster. The anticipation as the pitcher wound up, the sudden plunge as the ball sped to and across home plate. Hank Aaron struck out at that bat.

But I remember over the next eight years; there was one thing that Hank Aaron did at every at-bat.

Always Swing for the Fences

He always swung for the fences. He didn’t always get a home run. In fact, his record of total bases was about twice as many as his home run record would achieve. But, every swing, you watched in anticipation because you knew he was swinging for the fences.

And that’s the way I’ve tried to live my life, swinging for the fences. I not only don’t always hit a home run, I rarely do. But it’s not for want of trying.

In 1978, I began running for fitness. I needed to lose the pounds I had put on since graduating high school five years earlier. About three months later, I lined up with 5,000 other runners at my first Peachtree Road Race.

And I swung for the fences.

It was one of my favorite Peachtrees because, not knowing any better, I started at the back of the pack. So for the next 40 minutes, I passed runners by the hundreds. I didn’t win the race, but it was one of my highest finishes, in the high double digits.

It’s Okay to Strike Out

A baseball traveling toward home plate in the major leagues is moving at almost 100 MPH. That means it gets there in about 400 milliseconds, a literal blink of an eye. It takes about 150 milliseconds to swing the bat. Do the math.

A major league hitter will develop an eye and feel for the ball throughout a career, gauging where he thinks it will…

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Darryl Brooks

Photographer & Writer-I shoot what I see-I write what I feel. Top writer in Photography, Art, Creativity, Productivity, Self Improvement, Business, Life Lessons