On Monday and Tuesday, September 15th and 16th of 2008, I joined my nephews--Kevin from Midland, Texas along with his then three-year old son Andrew, and Daniel from Los Angeles, California--at old Yankees Stadium in New York. On Tuesday morning, Daniel returned to law school at UCLA; his seat was filled for the second game by a young friend from Auburn, Jackson Tate. (An extraordinary story for another time.) We converged upon the Bronx for two games of the final week in the life of the grand dame of ballparks before her demise that winter. We watched the White Sox, led by Ken Griffey Jr., engage the Yankees, captained by Derek Jeter.

A quarter century before, when they were about five and three, I took Kevin and Daniel to their first Major League Baseball game--a magical evening at Chavez Ravine where the Dodgers hosted the Mets. Years later, here I was accompanying Kevin and Daniel to a ballgame, but this time it was to carry Andrew, yet another generation, to his first game--a world away from Dodgers Stadium in "The House that Ruth Built."

On Monday night, we sat some twenty rows up an imagined extension of the first-base line into the stands behind home plate. Magnificent. On Tuesday night, however, we chose to experience the game in the stadium's right field stands, home to the legendary "Bleacher Creatures," led by "Bald" Vinny Milano. Epic.

I first learned of the Bleacher Creatures from my older brother Kevin who, for a time, worked in New York City. He told me stories of sitting in the right field bleachers, inaccessible to the primary concourse of the stadium. Occasionally, fans from the top tier of the stadium would lean precipitously over the rail and peer down into the crowded bleachers below, drawn by the cheers and jeers of the boisterous fans in the "cheap seats" of right field. In unison, Kevin recalled, the Bleacher Creatures would turn to the curious, upper deck fans and yell, "Jump!"

The Bleacher Creatures are best known for "Roll Call" in the top of the first inning of every home game. As the Yankees starting pitcher prepares to throw the first pitch, everyone in the right field bleachers stands and begins to clap; after the first pitch is thrown, Bald Vinny quiets the crowd and Roll Call begins. The Bleacher Creatures, once again in unison, chant the names of the Yankees fielders, one by one, beginning with team captain, Derek Jeter. The chant continues until each player--save for the pitcher and catcher--in turn, doffs his cap, takes a bow, waves his hand, salutes, or otherwise acknowledges the denizens of right field. No one among the fans outside of the Bleacher Creatures encroach upon this tradition; Roll Call is the proprietary role of the right field pavilion.

The remarkable thing about Roll Call is the intimate moment when the heroes of the game turn and acknowledge the presence of the anonymous fans in the stands. It's all the more remarkable in an age--unlike a bygone era--when players scarcely ever acknowledge the presence of the "huge crowd of witnesses" surrounding them.

Which leads to my point.

As memorable as it was to be a part of Roll Call that Tuesday night in the Bronx, I can only imagine what it must be like to be on the other end­ of the fun--to be on the field of play and to hear the passionate and persistent call of your name by those gathered in the stands. In a nation of three hundred million people, less than a thousand play Major League Baseball at any given time. Only twenty-five of those play for the Yankees; and only a third of those regularly take the field at the outset of the game and hear their names chanted from the right field pavilion.

Followers of Jesus, however, can have a sense of being "on the field" for Roll Call. The anonymous author of Hebrews, penned a Roll Call in chapter 11--a Roll Call of faithful men and women who had once run the track on the stadium floor. These heroes, having finished their course, have retired to the stands. Today, they are among the "huge crowd of witnesses" who now cheer us on. Can you hear them calling you out...calling you forth...calling you by name?

What specific words of encouragement do you need to hear from the "huge crowd of witnesses" to keep you running with faithfulness and endurance?

If you were to finish your race and take your place in the stands right now, based on your experience, what would you desire to convey to the current runners? Why wait until you're in the stands?