Like another Telegram
When I was twelve years old, on a Saturday, my cousing came down the hill to my house to play. He was my best friend at the time and we spent way too much time together. This time, he brought something for me: a telegram. Not for my father (who has the same name as I do - or I guess I have his name) but for me. I had never gotten a telegram before in my life. I still haven't. But on this past Saturday I got something that brought back all the sensations I got when I opened up that telegram.

The telegram was telling me that I had been chosen to play for Guatemala's National Baseball Team in Japan. Well, actually, to try out for the team (I eventually did make it onto the team). I was floored. I had started playing baseball at age seven, and I had no natural ability. This was a surprise, an incredibly joyful surprise. My parents were ecstatic and proud, from what I remember. I had worked pretty hard, practiced like crazy, and now someone was saying I was pretty good.

I ended up playing for the GNT in Panama (where we almost made the Little League World Series in Williamsport, lost 3-1 to Panama), Colombia, Mexico, and El Salvador.

So what happened on Saturday? I got a letter from the Union League Civic & Arts Foundation about a story I had submitted for a contest. Turns out I got one of the "Additional Awards." Not first or second place, not even third place, but something. There will be a dinner to celebrate the winners, I can bring someone, congratulations, and you'll be getting a check for $385.

Again, floored. Not just for winning whatever it is I won, which is awesome. But what it means. I must have read that letter a million times. I hate reading too much into things or getting all full of myself, but this is, as the Goonies would say, My Time, and I want to brag.

I fucking won something because of my writing. It's never happened before, not like this. And it feels great. It's not Japan, but it's fantastic, and who knows where it will lead me.