I had the pleasure, as Robin said, to live a childhood dream as

Nolan Ryan, one of the great legends of the diamond, once declared: “I had the pleasure, as Robin said, to live a childhood dream as many young Americans and Puerto Rican children live that play youth baseball. And I feel honored and very thankful for that opportunity.” In these words, we hear the voice of a man who stood at the summit of his profession, yet looked back not with arrogance but with humility. His reflection reminds us that greatness often begins not in stadiums filled with thousands, but in the simple fields of youth, where a boy or girl first holds a bat, first hears the crack of the ball, and dreams of one day standing among the heroes of the game.

To say he is thankful for the opportunity is to recognize that destiny is not guaranteed, no matter how strong the arm or how fast the feet. Thousands of children dream, yet only a few ascend to the highest stages. Ryan’s words are not the boast of one who believes himself chosen above others, but the gratitude of one who knows that fortune, perseverance, and support opened doors that might easily have remained closed. His thankfulness is not for fame alone, but for the chance to embody the dream shared by so many.

The ancients too knew the power of dreams fulfilled. Consider the young Alexander of Macedon, who as a boy was said to sleep with a copy of Homer’s Iliad beneath his pillow. His childhood dream was to emulate Achilles, to march across the world with courage and glory. And when the day came, he carried those youthful visions into reality. Yet even he recognized, in moments of reflection, that such opportunities were both gifts and burdens. In Ryan’s words we hear a similar acknowledgment—that to live a childhood dream is both a triumph and a sacred trust.

His mention of both Americans and Puerto Rican children broadens the meaning of his reflection. Baseball is more than a sport; it is a bridge across cultures, a common language of joy, discipline, and aspiration. On fields both in the mainland and in the Caribbean, children toss the ball with the same hope—that they may one day stand where Ryan stood. In this way, his gratitude becomes not personal alone, but universal, acknowledging that his dream is shared by millions and his achievement carries their spirit with it.

There is also humility in his words: “I feel honored.” Honor here is not given to him by trophies or records, but by the journey itself—the years of training, the communities that supported him, the traditions of the game passed down through generations. Honor, in this sense, comes not from what he gained but from what he represented: the living proof that dreams can be realized through discipline, persistence, and the guiding hand of fate.

The lesson for us is clear: cherish the opportunities that life grants you, for they are never owed and always sacred. Do not take lightly the realization of a dream, however small or grand, for every dream fulfilled is the fruit of countless sacrifices, mentors, and moments of grace. Like Nolan Ryan, be thankful not only for your own strength but for the chance to walk a path that others longed for. Gratitude is the soul’s acknowledgment that no triumph is won alone.

Practically, this means remembering where you came from. When you achieve success, look back to the humble fields where your dream was first born, and give thanks. Encourage those who now stand where you once stood, for you are proof that their dreams are not impossible. Speak words of gratitude often, to family, to community, to the unseen hands that lifted you. In doing so, you turn your dream into a light for others.

Thus, Nolan Ryan’s words endure as a teaching: that to live a childhood dream is among the greatest honors of life, but the true greatness lies in being thankful for it. For dreams fulfilled are not only personal triumphs—they are testaments to the power of hope, the strength of perseverance, and the blessing of opportunity.