Reading sportswriter Joe Posnanski’s book Why We Love Baseball, I was struck by his storytelling—one tale after another about heroes, flubs, and the improbable moments that define the game.

His story about the Yankee Clipper, Joe DiMaggio—clearly one of the all-time greats—caught my attention.

During the 1941 season, DiMaggio went on a remarkable hitting streak, ultimately recording a hit in 56 consecutive games—one of baseball’s greatest achievements.

What I didn’t know was that he had a rival of sorts that same year. Red Sox legend Ted Williams was on a streak of his own—23 straight games—until it was cut short when White Sox pitcher Ted Lyons walked him three times.

But here’s the part of Posnanski’s story that stayed with me:

A reporter once asked DiMaggio, “Why do you play so hard every day?”

“Because” DiMaggio said, “there’s always some kid who may be seeing me for the first or last time. I owe him my best.”

I kept thinking about that line—not just as a tribute to DiMaggio’s dedication to baseball, but as a quiet declaration of integrity, a model for both kids and adults.

Wouldn’t it be something if we all showed that kind of commitment, not just in how we do our jobs, but in how we treat each other?

I believe each of us is a role model to at least one other person in our lives. Someone who does the right thing for the right reason. Someone who shows compassion to those who are struggling. Someone who plays by the rules, who’s honest and responsible with family, friends, and co-workers. Someone who puts in the effort every day, to show others what it means to treat people with dignity and respect

This week, I’m heading to San Diego for a little R&R with my best friend. And—yes, you guessed it—I’ve got tickets to a Padres game (maybe even two, if I play my cards right).

Baseball is a game of rules—and for the most part, players follow them. When they don’t, an umpire is there to call it out. Sure, they play to win—but they also play with discipline, respect, and heart. Because beneath their commitment to the game lies something deeper: a commitment to the kids leaning over the rail at batting practice, hoping for an autograph… watching one of their heroes knock the cover off the ball, and when they don’t have a good day, they cheer anyway.

That’s the magic of baseball. It’s not just about hits and runs—it’s about showing up, giving your best, and inspiring someone else to do the same.

That’s why I love this game.

By the way, get the book. If you’re a baseball fan, you’ll love it.