My father never played baseball. He wasn’t a devoted fan in the conventional sense. But he recognized American excellence in all its forms, and in the spring of 1973, he took me to my first major league game.
Opening Day. Shea Stadium. April 6th.
Tom Seaver took the mound against Steve Carlton. Two aces. The kind of matchup that sells out ballparks regardless of what happened the season before, regardless of the weather, regardless of whether it falls on a school day. Cleon Jones broke it open in the seventh with his second home run of the game. Final score: Mets 3, Phillies 0. On the ride home, my father said Seaver was something special. I was still thinking about Jones. We were both right.
That day planted something in me that I carry still.
Last summer, I asked my father a question I had been meaning to ask for years. He is a Brooklyn Dodger man, a product of an era when baseball was woven into the fabric of daily life, and he had seen many of the greats play. So I asked him: who was his favorite player of all time?
He is 91 years old and one of the clearest thinkers I have ever known.
His answer surprised me. He said Jackie Robinson.
I expected something about civil rights. About breaking barriers. About what Robinson endured and what it cost him. Those things are true and worth saying. But that is not what my father said.
He said: “Robinson just seemed to do what was needed.”
When I pressed him, he didn’t reach for the grand narrative. He said that whether it was a single to start a rally or a stolen base to apply pressure, Robinson made the play the moment required. Not the flashy play. Not the play that would be remembered. The one that was needed.
That answer tells you everything about my father and, I would argue, everything about what makes a team work and a country function.
He used to tell me in business: “Willy, you don’t need to hit a home run. Singles are good. Rallies build on them.” He wasn’t being modest. He was being precise. Sustained success is not the product of one swing. It is the product of consistently doing what the moment calls for, day after day, without waiting for applause.
My father is the reason I see the world the way I do. His discipline, his clarity, and his love for this country have been my compass. He has written and spoken often about what it means to be an American. Not as abstraction. As obligation.
That obligation is in the air right now.
In December of 1776, with Washington’s army near collapse and the revolution close to dying, Thomas Paine put quill to paper during a cold retreat and wrote what would become one of the most important sentences in American history: “These are the times that try men’s souls. The summer soldier and the sunshine patriot will, in this crisis, shrink from the service of their country; but he that stands by it now, deserves the love and thanks of man and woman.”
Those words were read aloud to the Continental Army on Christmas night before Washington crossed the Delaware. They helped save the republic.
They still apply.
This country is not in retreat. After years of drift, Americans are reasserting something the world used to take for granted about us: that we mean what we say, that we back our allies, that we defend our borders, that we build things, that we are not ashamed of our flag. That is not a political position. It is a national character, and it is worth protecting.
We are the American team. And right now, our team needs every player on the field.
Not the sunshine patriot. Not the summer soldier. The one who does what Robinson did: the play the moment requires, without waiting to be asked twice.
My father taught me that singles win games. Rallies are built one at a time. And the players who matter most are the ones who show up every single day, do their job, and love the team they are playing for.
I love this country. I am grateful for it. And I believe our best is still ahead.
Baseball is back. So is America. Let’s play ball.
Will Kadish is the President and CEO of Broad Metro LLC, an Alabama based company. With over 30 years of projects across the United States, his work spans mixed use development, commercial development, and long-term community partnerships from Florida to Virginia. He is also co-founder of The Parlay Project, a nonprofit focused on sports gambling addiction awareness and recovery, and serves on the Board of the YMCA of Alabama.
