Souvenirs Are For the Fans

July 12

When Albert Pujols hit his 700th home run, a reporter asked him if he had retrieved the ball he hit. 

He said no—he wanted a fan to have it. That souvenirs are for the fans. 

That doesn’t diminish souvenirs. And it doesn’t diminish fans. But it’s an incredibly honest assessment—the day after hitting his 700th home run, Pujols got to put on the uniform. He got to stretch and run and sweat and drink gatorade out of a regulation-issue gatorade cup. He got to complain about the same thing tens of thousands of people would pay to see him do that day, cracking jokes with his coworkers on national television. 

In 99% of the domains of the world, we’re bystanders, amateurs, concert-goers and seat-holders and screen-viewers and armchair-quarterbacks-or-whatever-thing-you’re-into. 

But in the 1%? The are that is ours? Where we strap on the cleats and shin guards of our own professions? Pack a lunch and head in to work? That’s where we have to remember: the souveniers? The trappings? The trophies and highlights and the view counts and the likes? They’re for the fans. Not for us. 

Our prize is getting to wake up tomorrow and doing it all again.

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