Brannan had enlisted in the Marine Corps right after high school, learned honor and courage and commitment and Semper Fi, heard bullets whiz by his head, seen friends die, lost his left pinky to a flash-bang grenade. He had lived "in the Bible times," as he liked to say, so for a moment he allowed himself to appreciate the fortuity of this, him, here, sun and grass, in the uniform of a completely different kind.
"You still remember how to put that stuff on?" said Grady Fuson, the Padres' vice president of scouting.Brannan nodded. He was weaning himself off "yes, sir" and "no, sir," learning to address his superiors by their first names and nicknames.
The last piece of the uniform was his hat. Brannan, 22, slipped it on nice and snug so it would cover his high-and-tight haircut. Officially, he is still a Marine until he receives his honorable discharge on May 31, so he'll stay clean-shaven and hang dog tags in his locker. The Corps is allowing him to complete his duty with the Padres as an ambassador of sorts, proof that there can be success after war.
"This is about the military," said San Diego CEO Sandy Alderson, a former first lieutenant in the Marines and the man responsible for Brannan being a Padre. "This is about all Iraq veterans. This is about people who are wounded. This is a story that makes everybody feel good.
And it's predicated on the fact that he can actually throw the baseball."
You may have to move past the fact that Cpl. Brannan is being used as a propaganda tool by the military and just appreciate the determination of a proud young man; a patriot, a pitcher.
That is what spring, the time of renewal, is all about. This is the season of Purim, and of Lent. Even as the buds and blooms begin to show their little heads, the cold winter just past (still with some of you, I recognize) reminds us that out of the bare dark nothing comes the beauty of hope, the excitement of unbridled possibility.
Wait a minute; are we still talking baseball?
