You know how sometimes you’re at a bar talking to girls trying to bring them home, because you’re not gay, not that there is anything wrong with that, those are just the facts. Sometimes when you watch things like Magic Mike or see a picture of Tim Riggins, you wonder if you are gay, but you’re not. Anyway, you know how you’ll be talking to a specific girl for a WHILE and in the back of your mind your like “Ahh she’s alright, like I think she is decently attractive, cool personality and all, but will she let me, you know” and you’re talking and then all of the sudden she just walks away. No real explanation, she just walks away, but right around the corner there is a new, better looking, better personality girl that you can spend your life with and you KNOW she is DTF as they put in back in middle school. Well, that is my round about way of telling you my relationship with baseball.
I played baseball my whole life, I thought I was going pro. You couldn’t tell me anything differently, it’s all I had. I would stay up late at night dreaming about myself hitting home runs in the World Series. As I got older, I was alright but the dream became more and more unlikely. In my head I would say I could do it, but I was also like “Ahhhh, idk man.” I tried to convince myself so much I printed out a little thing that said “I will go pro!” and pasted it on my door. My friends haven’t let me hear that end of that. And rightfully so, what a fucking loser.
I was never going to make it anywhere, I couldn’t hit, but I still tried to convince myself I could. A typically at bat would go like this. I walk up to my ‘amazing’ walk up songs, thats the only good thing I could control. I walked up feeling confident as ever. My walk up songs were so fire, you could see the pitcher tense up a bit when he heard the first beat. First pitch of the at bat would normally be a curveball that went 54 feet of the allotted 60’6″ and I would swing, looking terrible. The next two pitches were normally curve balls and I would swing at them looking terrible, and every time try to play it off like “Yeah he got me that time… good breaker.” I knew the day was over they found my weakness.
After finishing 6th in the nation in strikeouts my freshman year… as a hitter, only hitter in the top 10 may I add, I still kept the faith. Then it went away. Slowly faded with injury but one day it was gone. And while I cried like a mother losing her troubled child, I knew it was the start of a fresh time for me. I was turning the page. No more annoying practices, or games. No more waking up early to pull the tarp off the field. No more striking out! I had mixed emotions that day.
The next day, everyday after that and everyday from now on is the best thing that has ever happened. Do I hate baseball? No, I enjoy the first week of the season, a few games in the summer, and the playoffs. But WOW, did I learn that I hated playing baseball.
I wrote this blog because as I sit here watching the World Series, I can’t help but feel that this is just another game. It doesn’t even seem like a playoff game. I used to watch spring training baseball in amazement of the players thinking about what it would be like one day. I would watch the World Series start to finish only to take time throughout each game ‘talking to myself’ trying to stay positive and convince it could happen. Now, I barely turned it on. I almost forget and quite literally if it wasn’t for me betting the money I don’t have as a way of supplementing my income, I would have.
So love what you do folks, but if you’re not good at something be real with yourself because you may just be entering a great time in your life.