As global citizens, everyone deserves a chance to succeed

I will always be a proud citizen of Iowa and of the United States, but through recent experiences, I've come to realize that I'm also a global citizen.
In May I spent two weeks on a study abroad trip to Namibia in southern Africa. It was a global health course studying the AIDS epidemic that has ravaged the country.
I spent time with people who live in one room houses and earn less than $20 per year.
On the surface we seem to be such different people, but I connected with many on a personal level.
I got to spend time with high school students who I realized are not that much different than me.
The students, or learners as they call them, shared many of my same goals. They want to go to college and become nurses and pilots, even super models.
They listen to the same kind of music. They sang us songs by Rhianna and Alicia Keys. One boy couldn't stop beaming when my friend told him he looked like Chris Brown.
The more I thought about it, the more upset I became. It is so unfair that these kids, who have such potential, may not get an opportunity to go to college.
The odds of them obtaining the career they desire are slim. They'll probably never own a CD by one of their favorite artists. Why? Because they were born in an impoverished, desolate country halfway around the world.
Meanwhile, I grew up in the United States. I always knew I would go to college. It was just a matter of choosing which one.
All I have to do to get the latest music is drive to the store, or better yet, log onto my computer and download it from iTunes.
I know that there are thousands of people living in poverty throughout the United States. The people working in Namibia to improve their country made me want to come home and do my part here.
But my time there made me realize something else. The children there shouldn't be written off simply because of their geographical location. They need and deserve just as much help as the people in the United States. They may live 10,000 miles away, but the people of Namibia are just as much my neighbors as those who live across the street.

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To read more about my trip: "Desperation in Africa opens Breda Native's Eyes"
Map taken from "Kevin in Namibia"

Back Home in Omaha

I'll never forget my first College World Series. I went with my older brother and my dad. We had perfect seats. They were in the Grandstand, almost directly behind home plate, two or three rows from the top.

It was an afternoon game that ended up lasting well into the night.
Miami was going head-to-head with Tennessee, two powerhouse programs. The game proved to be wild. It set three new records, including most hits (41) and most wild pitches (7).
The guys in front of us were from Omaha, and they were craking jokes about Iowa left and right.

"Napkins on a roll? Those look more like toilet paper, must be from Iowa!"

"This game is taking so long we won't even get to the bars before they close. Wait, not if we go to Iowa. Their bars are open a whole hour longer!"

I couldn't help but laugh. There is just something about that atmosphere that puts me in a great mood.

Of course, they didn't make it to the bar that night. In fact, no one dared to leave early. It was 11 pm and hardly anyone from the nearly 24,000 fan crowd had moved.

No one in their right mind would want to miss the end of this game. When it was all said and done, Miami beat Tennessee 21 to 13 in four hours and 21 minutes. The length was another record-setter at the time.

Ever since that night, I have been hooked on the College World Series. I love everything about it, from the fans to the field. Even the challenge of finding a parking spot is more of an adventure than a hassle.

Lucky for me, one of my best friend's family has season tickets for those seats I sat in at my very first game. I've been back every year since, except for this year.

My friend is overseas for the summer, so I have no ticket and no one to go with. It made me sad, but I've been fortunate enough to watch some great baseball on television.

There's something about the College World Series. It has a purity that no other sporting event can rival. It has been held in Rosenblatt Stadium for more than half a century.
The CWS has become as much a part of life in Omaha as concerts at Memorial Park and going to the Henry Doorly Zoo.

I had a game on television at work the other day when a coworker walked in.

"The College World Series?" He asked excitedly."What game is it?"

"You like college baseball?" I asked him.

"Yeah! I'm from Nebraska."

I should have known.

This year is the fifty-eighth time that the College World Series is being played at Rosenblatt Stadium, and it's one of the last.

Why, with such a rich tradition and a great fan-friendly atmosphere would anyone want to move the Series?

Yet for years, other cities have been trying to entice the NCAA to let them hold the tournament.
No longer is it for the love of the game. Now it's for the love of money. The city had to build a newer, fancier stadium in downtown Omaha to keep the tournament around.

No more cheap bleacher seats in the outfield where shouts of "Left field sucks!" by the opponents' fans were as common as a blistering sunburn.

They're going to be replaced by fancy sky boxes and luxury suites, great for those able to drop a few grand for a ticket. Not so great for the rest of us.

No more days of the $1.00 pizza at the Freschetta truck right outside the stadium. It was so popular people were buying them by the pie, not just the slice.

Now I won't even need an excuse to buy that $12.00 blooming onion.

It used to be about the players and the fans. Athletes dreamed of making it to Omaha. That was the goal. There was even a song written about it. Fans have been loyal to this series. They return year after year. The waiting list for season tickets is as long as Santa's shopping list. The family I go with wouldn't ever dream of giving their tickets up. And that's been fun too. They have the same seats every year, and so do the people sitting around them. They've practically grown up together.

The family whose seats are in front of theirs?

The father never misses a game. He takes the entire series off from work and attends every game. Guaranteed, he's sitting in the same seat taking stats in his play by play book.
He has twin daughters who were maybe five years old the first time I met them. One had poison ivy. Now they're in middle school. They have a younger brother and sister, and they all come to the tournament every year.

The College World Series has become the highlight of my summer, as I'm sure it is for many people. But after this year, it won't be the same. When did America's favorite past time become more about money and less about baseball?