spotlight The young performers from Renaissance High School for the Arts who took the Center Theater stage on Friday night to present Damn Yankees—the 1955 musical where Broadway met baseball—spent the evening throwing a lot of curveballs, most of which missed the strike zone.

From the moment I received this assignment, I never thought this would be an easy review to write. The task of critiquing young artists is loaded so heavily with responsibilities and far-reaching consequences that I hesitated before choosing every word. Those pauses were filled with the fear that one harsh statement would shatter newborn dreams. But almost from the moment the play began Friday night, and as it continued to unfold, the challenge of reviewing it became more and more difficult.

I can sympathize with the student performers at Renaissance High School for the Arts. I am a theater artist, myself, and have been for years. I know what it’s like to stand in the spotlight, and I haven’t forgotten what it was like the first time. I, too, share their story—one of young passion, artistic growth, and now, budget cuts. Sometimes it seems the only force keeping theatre together during these harsh economic times is the shared recognition that we are all on the same team.

Yet as I sat through Friday night’s presentation of Damn Yankees, I could not ignore its shortcomings—from the sound and delivery issues that made the storyline very difficult to follow to the realization that the overall presentation of the production did not measure up to that of a typical performing arts school.

Damn Yankees is a musical comedy based on the Douglass Wallop novel, “The Year the Yankees Lost the Pennant.” It recounts the Faust legend of the 1950’s, a time when the New York Yankees dominated Major League Baseball, and it creates the case of Joe Boyd, a fan of the unsuccessful Washington Senators baseball team who is so forlorn that he declares he would sell his soul to the devil to see the Senators defeat the Yankees.

At that moment, the devil appears before Joe Boyd in the guise of a smooth-talking swindler named Mr. Applegate and proposes exactly that deal: in exchange for his soul, Applegate will restore Joe’s youth and, better yet, make him the player to lead the Senators to the pennant.

Joe accepts, but convinces Applegate to grant him an escape clause: he has until September 25 at 9 p.m.—the day of the Senators’ final game—to back out and return to his real life.

Soon enough, Joe Boyd leaves his life and wife and is reborn as the legendary ballplayer Joe Hardy. The Senators begin to win.

But over time, Joe’s deal with the devil begins to bedevil him. Joe finds himself at odds with Applegate, who eagerly thirsts for his soul. He begins to realize the worth of his former life. He misses his wife. Meanwhile, the moment when he would lose it all forever—September 25 at 9 p.m.—draws nearer, forcing Joe to face the choice between true love and selfish desires.

Most of this was hard to follow during the show. At the same time, however, something else was emerging from the production that was impossible not to recognize—the students’ exhibition of enjoyment and passion, which was not only inspiring, but proved entertaining in its own right.

Several students contributed fine and memorable performances to the show, among them: Maiesha Aguirre as the seductress, Lola; Bridget Barlow’s hilarious embodiment of the quirky Sister; and Jasmine Jones charismatic portrayal of the tenacious reporter, Gloria. In addition, choreography by Stephanie Maxim, Javier Gonzalez, and Kamiko Johnson shone through in a budding ensemble, most noticeably in the mambo-infused “Who’s Got the Pain?” and the vigorous “Shoeless Joe from Hannibal, Mo.”

Nearly 50 Renaissance High School students collaborated in Damn Yankees, and at various points during the evening each of them encountered the very personal moment of stepping on stage for the first time. And as each took that step, overcoming their own collection of fears, they triumphed.

In the audience, even as I witnessed their imperfections, a new truth was awakened in me: the essential purpose of art does not rely on whether or not it’s done well, but what we take from it.

One day, these students may look back on their production of Damn Yankees, and even with awareness of its flaws, realize what they took from it: if you don’t get what you want the first time, use a little talent and a little brains and keep trying.