Sandy Koufax and You

Sandy Koufax always insisted, calmly and confidently, that he was not a hero.

He didn’t have any intention of standing up by sitting down; he didn’t mean to make a statement by sitting humble in Shul instead of standing proudly on the mound.

When, at the age of 29, he sat out Game One of the 1965 World Series because it was Yom Kippur, the greatest pitcher in baseball history was simply doing what he had always done. When pressured to step into the role of cultural hero, he demurred as quietly as he had from the Yom Kippur game. Working on Yom Kippur and cultural heroism were both “not his thing.”

He explained to the media that he had always had an understanding with the Dodgers that they would rearrange the pitching rotation to accommodate his observance of Yom Kippur, and that the World Series was no exception. It was, in his own mind, no big deal.

But in the hearts and minds of millions of Jews across the USA, it was a very big deal. In an era when Jews were running for cover and trying frantically to melt as fast as possible into the American background, Koufax’s audacious absence from the Holiest Day of the Baseball Year to sit quietly in a Yom Kippur service inspired more Jews than all the passionate sermons given by all the rabbis in all the congregations in the USA that same day.

And just like that, despite his very best efforts, Koufax became a hero to his People. Folks realized that even in the USA, a Jew is allowed to be Jewish, and – shockingly! – even outside his own home. They were stunned to behold a Jewish man, by no means a traditionally religious one, making a quiet yet deafening statement of faith not by marching or shouting from the rooftops but simply by doing the right thing at the right time, with plain disregard for what he considered to be the utterly irrelevant circumstances.

And wouldn’t you know it; he was named World Series MVP.

***

On the day after Yom Kippur, Koufax had a visitor in his Minnesota hotel room. He was relaxing and preparing to pitch that day when Rabbi Moshe Feller, Chabad’s representative in Minnesota, knocked on his door. Rabbi Feller presented Koufax with a brand-new pair of Tefillin. Feller congratulated Koufax for not playing on Yom Kippur and for "the great assist he gave Rabbis and Jewish educators the world over."

"Since you bat right and throw left," Rabbi Feller told the pitcher, "I wasn't sure what type to get you. But considering what your left arm has accomplished, I decided to get you the type you put on your right arm." (Tefillin are worn on the weaker arm -- right-handed people wrap them around their left arm, and lefties on their right arm.)

Koufax thanked the Rabbi for the Tefillin, and though he declined the offer to wrap up right there, he accepted the gift. And then, true to form, he said, “Rabbi, everyone is so excited about my not pitching on Yom Kippur – you know I don’t pitch on Rosh Hashanah either.”

***

As the Dodgers celebrate Koufax tonight at the Ravine, let us parents pay heed: our children are our fans, society is our team, life is the World Series, and we are Sandy Koufax.

And each of us knows when our personal “Yom Kippur moment” faces us.

When we put our faith ahead of our careers and we do it genuinely, sincerely, without flair or fanfare, and we put our money where our mouth is, we have the power to inspire our own children, young or old.

More than any Hebrew School, Day School, Yeshiva, sermon, workshop or private lesson, OUR EXAMPLE is the most powerful tool we possess to inspire the ones we love most to love what we love.

Let us mercilessly hold up Sandy Koufax as the hero he yearns not to be. We ain’t out to make a splash, or waves or headlines. We’re out to make a difference in our children’s lives. And action speaks much louder than words.

Wouldn’t you know it, when it’s all said and done, we will also emerge as MVP’s: Most Valuable Parents.