When ALS Throws a Curveball: Life’s Game Beyond the Diamond

In the grand stadium of life, we are all players stepping up to the plate, ready for the game ahead. Imagine your life as a lifelong baseball game — a Big Show where every inning marks a decade, every pitch a challenge, and every hit a triumph. For many, this game feels endless, filled with the rhythm of practice, the thrill of competition, and the joy of connection.

But then, unexpectedly, a curveball comes hurtling toward you — a pitch you didn’t see coming. It lands in the ALS section of the stands, a place no player wants to find themselves. This is the moment when the game changes.

Your fieldwork begins to suffer. You miss groundballs you once caught with ease. Simple throws become fumbles. Your glove feels heavier, your reflexes slower. Your at-bats aren’t as strong; strikeouts increase. When you do connect with the ball, it no longer sails as far or as fast. Running the bases becomes a struggle — what was once second nature now takes effort and determination. The base paths feel longer, and the cheers from the crowd grow faint.

Soon, you find yourself on the injured roster, sidelined by a relentless opponent. The dugout, once a place of strategy and camaraderie, now feels like a waiting room filled with uncertainty. Rumors swirl about an early retirement from the game you love and that has defined you. The scoreboard doesn’t show the plays you want, and there’s no clear path back onto the field. The team faces a heartbreaking decision — to cut you from the roster.

ALS is like a relentless pitcher, throwing fastballs and sliders that wear down your strength inning after inning. It steals your stamina, your coordination — the very skills you honed over a lifetime. But unlike the game, there’s no extra inning, no chance for a comeback in the traditional sense. The clock keeps ticking, and the final out feels closer than ever.

For Lou Gehrig, baseball was more than a game; it was his identity. When ALS forced him off the field, it challenged who he was and what he stood for. Yet, his legacy endures, not just in the records he set, but in the courage he showed in facing the unknown.

So, what now? When the game you’ve played your whole life is no longer the same, the answer is to redefine the game. ALS may have changed the rules, but it cannot erase the player within. It calls for new strategies — rallying the team, calling a new play, and finding strength in the dugout of community and support.

This June 1st and 2nd, as Major League Baseball honors Lou Gehrig Day, we remember the spirit of a player who faced his curveball with dignity and strength. We stand with those who continue to battle ALS, reminding them — and ourselves — that every inning, every moment, still counts.

The game may change, but the heart of the player remains.

TJO