Box Seats

Don’t overlook. Here is the new haven. Three floors up on Justin Torres’ balcony overlooking Vermont Street is a wide sky. Destruction, decay and shattered glass do not deter the dwellers who walk on holy land. Sweep off home plate. The brass city shimmers within the crooked streets. Who has bewitched you? Metal detection beeps. Family fixtures lit by the fireplace. Vermont street is no exception to the tarnish laid on the victorian and colonial homes like varnish. They’ll twinkle as the polish is applied from the sprinkle covering multi-families and multi-floors. It’s the circulating Blood healing everything.

At least, Jesucristo flows through the people. Word study on Puerto Rico. Justin taught me the proper pronunciation of the bodega. It’s more of a ya than ga. All of us kept laughing. ha. Despite Holy Land’s closure the roadside attraction exposes hope to shadowy figures who appear throughout the night. Lives in disrepair seek the greater things albeit in the theme park because they believe. Under the gigantic cross, its LED pinkish purple glow softly lights holy land, Jacob Barbour told me how he fondly remembers meeting Justin Torres. It’s like listening to a new album already knowing it’s going to be a classic.

Jacob Barbour is the founder of Crossover 4 Christ, a basketball ministry based in Waterbury, Connecticut. Crossover, the basketball maneuver used to juke opposing players is used as a clever metaphor to illustrate the journey of passing from death to live through the bridging arms of Jesus Christ. Biblical maneuvers reunite urban youth to the everlasting arms of the Father as the pages turn during the lessons—one hand to another.

When Justin first hit double digits in age he was perceived at the Rivera-Hughes basketball court as loud, annoying and never got picked to play. However, Jacob knew there was something special about him. Despite how everyone else avoided Justin, Jacob would see Justin at the bodega on South Main. Jacob decided on one item either soda, candy or chips for Justin to enjoy. Jacob’s heart rages for the weaker ones and the ones who do not get the opportunity. Jacob said, “He always reached out and gave him the time of day.” Below the peaking church spires, Justin saw Jacob with his homies on the way to the basketball court and tell other youth, “That’s my dad right there.” For Jacob, it felt awkward, but it was Jacob’s commitment to be there for him.

Jacob frequently moved to other sections of Waterbury. He was doing the whole gypsy thing until he left to pursue a baseball career in Puerto Rico. Upon returning to Connecticut years later he spotted a much older Justin with a much larger frame and longer hair. Justin called out, “Yo Jac, I remember when you…” It’s like they never lost the connection. Jacob was excited for Justin finding his passion in something like baseball. Justin invested a lot of time into the game. Around this time Jacob started Crossover 4 Christ and spread the gospel around the South Main community. However, Jacob’s interaction with Justin found a deep-seeded rebellion against the Lord. Justin said, “God took my Uncle.”

At 35-years-old, immediately following a church service Justin’s Uncle Carmelo was robbed and left for dead in the street. Bitterness and bereavement grew together in Justin’s heart. Jodi, a visiting pastor lead a discussion about fighting the wrong person. The message challenged Justin during the Crossover bible study. Justin learned how he was fighting with God when it wasn’t his fault. Months later healing reached a climax during the summer of 2016 when Justin gave his testimony. He made the crossover with Christ by letting the anger and resentment go from his heart. He caught salvation, hope and love during a time when life seemed to be approaching—out. Justin accepted Jesus to mediate his relationship with God. Fans on either side will root for the strikeout on others they do not know, but the ump rules in Justin’s favor. “Come out from them and be separate…And I will be a Father to you and you will be my sons and daughters, says the Lord Almighty.” It’s from this box office you’ll see the incredible feat of the home run.

Immediately opening Justin’s front door there is a New York Yankees painting with his Uncle Carmelo’s last name on the back of the navy blue pinstripes: Carmelo. Monday through Friday, Mr. Carmelo worked on the assembly line at nearby factory. He played a big role in the early formation years of Justin’s baseball training. The weekends were the only time Mr. Carmelo had time off to spend with his nephew. A father and son relationship quickly developed when Justin joined the baseball teams of his youth. They practiced and practiced all day for three days out of the week. Mr. Carmelo’s favorite Major League Baseball team was the New York Yankees. His favorite player was Derek Jeter. Early in the morning Justin touches the painting when he leaves his mother’s apartment to run two miles before high school classes begin. It’s a reminder for Justin to know his uncle is there at home. After Mr. Carmelo died, every time Justin strolls up to bat at home plate he kisses his hand and points toward the sky.

On Good Friday, follow me around the outskirts of the high wall outpost topped with razor wire. Holy Land’s pinnacle. The public portrayal transforms from one color to another through plexiglass diffusion. Continuous lighting on Jesus’ feat. Pinkish-purple glow-white. Sharp rose stems point to the beautiful end when he arose.

Reappear down the path, righteous steps are uncommon, uneven and keep you off balance. Queasy, steadily breezy. The staff is the third person present. The third leg leading in rank and authority. The massive flat rock cliffs are a staging to overlook Waterbury. Kick back where the trespassers go for peace of another kind. A real rest. Lives in recovery mode. There’s no trespassing here. It’s impossible to outlaw the magnetism generated from the beautiful Outlaw who says, “Walk with me and work with me—watch how I do it. Learn the unforced rhythms of grace. I won’t lay anything heavy or ill-fitting on you. Keep company with me and you’ll learn to live freely and lightly.” It’s in the company of the crossovers where I relearned the rhythm of the Spirit in every word spoken as a witness to the greatest of all stories. The presence isn’t something you can readily dismiss. Receive the surpassing gift.

Outfitted in a Russell Athletic Spartans uniform Justin tosses a red-seamed baseball into the air in perfect concentration. The baseball spins towards the ceiling half way out of frame. During early morning hours he can be found running around his neighborhood. He doesn’t slip into the streets because the protrusions on the bottom of his cleats. The white cable wires are split along the balcony wall.  At batting practice his bat skills become more fierce and accurate than a defense contractor’s countermeasures for incoming threats: change-ups, curveballs and fastballs. Baseball practice and discipline has his national ranking at 13. If Justin stays steadfast, he will join the ranks of Puerto Rican men who have journeyed from the Caribbean island to the right of the Dominican Republic into Major League Baseball. The athletic migration has been going on since the early 1940s. Hiram Bithorn was first player of Puerto Rican heritage was drafted by the Chicago Cubs. Puerto Rico competes for the MLB draft with three other countries located in the archipelago sea spread: Cuba, Dominican Republic and Venezuela.

Justin’s Waterbury Rican accent is full of vigor like a recurrent tropical rainstorm. General dialog ignites when the subject matter strikes his heart like swiping a wooden match across sandpaper. At home plate, Justin hits pitches farther than you can see beyond the steep slope on Vermont Street. Freshly graduated from Waterbury Career Academy, he hopes to be successful on the baseball fields of Eastern Connecticut State University this fall. The love shown by Uncle Carmelo during his baseball development will be sprayed out onto the Early Childhood Education courses like grounds keepers wetting fertile brown soil surrounding the MLB infield.