WhereGodIs: 'Aw, heck, Cleveland!'

Where the Spirit lies, within mispronunciations, laughter and no-hitters

We’re coming off the day that the Catholic Church celebrates its birthday, Pentecost. It’s one of the most vibrant days of the year - where we mark the Holy Spirit coming alive in its people as Jesus is preparing to head to Heaven, helping us remember we are never alone and always empowered to love.

At Mass last night, I could not help but laugh while listening to the first reading, and one time when the lack of pronunciation skills within a wonderful friend from bygone years led to a moment of something that breaks down walls and helps people feel more warmly comfortable: laughter.

While inside my most favorite place on the planet, the St. Joan of Arc Chapel at Marquette University, he was proclaiming that same first reading, Acts 2:1-11. Within it is the phrase, “How does each of us hear them in his native language? We are Parthians, Medes, and Elamites, inhabitants of Mesopotamia, Judea and Cappadocia, Pontus and Asia, Phrygia…”

That word Phrygia. Within my previous work world of radio, we would have read the script over, and over, and over with pronunciation guides until we knew we had it right. Hundreds of thousands, maybe millions of listeners might her the faux pas if it hit the air.

My friend’s audience was a lot smaller when he uttered what came next, with italicized text written as pronounced, not spelled.

“Fridge-ee-ah, frigg-ee-ah…aw, heck, Cleveland!”

(Downtown Cleveland. Photo: Jay Sorgi)

A cacophony of empathetic laughter ensued. My friend became a little red-faced, but we thought nothing less of him. Easy to make that mistake and feel frustrated.

The point was still the same, but yeah, the disciples didn’t exactly take a boat or a 747 from the Middle East to the lakefront of Lake Erie.

Us feeling that Holy Spirit in subtle but real ways came just under 2,000 years later on one of our Milwaukee Brewers road trips, as Anthony & I are endeavoring to get to all 30 Major League Baseball stadiums to see the Brew Crew play.

Why do we do it? Bonding. Shared interest, leading to shared experience, helping build God-created love between a father and son (and my wife/his momma Carrie, who sometimes joins us, and sometimes needs a break from her boys - but I digress).

That year, there was extra reason. In the previous 13 months, he had endured a pandemic forcing him parents to become his teachers, his dad being downsized from his job, seven months not knowing where he was going to live as we were trying to get closer to my wife’s family, a half-cross-country move from Milwaukee to Philadelphia, and a new school.

He deserved this trip. We made it happen.

What truth did we find on this trip? The fact that unexpected joy can come in unexpected lands that we’re called to venture to in this life.

September 11, 2021 didn’t just bring the 20th anniversary of 9-11, but the 13th stadium we had gone to for a Brewers game. We were seeing them play Cleveland.

Little did we know we would see history.

We purposely got seats just feet from the Milwaukee Brewers bullpen, so Anthony could cheer on his guys as they prepared to come out and relieve starter Corbin Burnes.

Those relievers weren’t needed in the game’s first eight innings, as Burnes did not allow a hit.

But in the top of the ninth inning, as the Brewers were batting for the last time, relief pitcher Josh Hader warmed up. And as he headed out of the bullpen to run across center field to the mound to pitch one of the most memorable ninth innings in Brewers history, the last voice he heard…

…was Anthony’s.

“Let’s go Hader! Come on, Hader! You got this! You got this!”

(Milwaukee Brewers relief pitcher Josh Hader (backgound) as Anthony cheered him on during the Milwaukee Brewers’ no-hitter over Cleveland in 2021. Photo: Jay Sorgi)

An 11-year-old voice of confidence. Not that Hader didn’t have any already, but you never know the effect someone else’s encouragement has on someone else.

You never know the incredible moments that can come when you least expect it.

You never know how a seven-hour drive to Phrygia…um, Cleveland can become one of the greatest memories of a young person’s childhood, and connect a family.

And you never know when your favorite team in the world will deliver the second no-hitter in franchise history.

The joy of that. The bonds we built. How we found God in all of it. That’s Holy Spirit stuff.

In “aw, heck, Cleveland!”

Readers, you’ll see stories of subtle sanctity like this on our Substack, along with other possible content that we’re discerning. It could come in written, podcast and/or video content.

Before I go, here’s a sample of my WhereGodIs storytelling, my day job telling stories for Catholic dioceses and nonprofits in my towns of Milwaukee and Philadelphia, and throughout the United States.

• CatholicPhilly: You don’t just find God’s presence in baseball. It exists in wiffleball, especially in a league near where we live that builds connection and miraculous moments for people with developmental disabilities.

• Milwaukee Catholic Herald: One state. Three Marian shrines. A special passport for all of them.

• Oakland (Calif.) Catholic Voice: The best way to be pro-life is often not to yell about laws and policy, and instead to walk in solidarity with the mom and build a support network to help them feel they and their child matter. Six parishes in the East Bay are partnering to do exactly that.

Have a great week!
In brotherly love, Jay

Sorgi Stories is where a family of storytellers - Anthony (the kid), Carrie (the mom) and Jay (the dad) tell stories. Sacred, often subtly. Sometimes song. Sometimes sports. Encountering. Engaging. Embracing all. Empathetic. Encouraging. From a compassion-centered Catholic love. (Enough alliteration for you?)