Dominant
I realized tonight what my favorite part of a baseball game is. It's the 8th and 9th innings, when the team I'm rooting for has their best and usually hardest throwing pitchers come out and absolutely blow the other team away.
K, I am gonna step back and get sentimental now. I don't usually talk about the illness I had back when I was little, but I've found myself talking about it more recently. I think I am finally realizing how much that struggle has meant to my life. I look around me and see weakness, physically and emotionally... people scared and afraid of the latest "killer cold" or those who call in sick just cuz they have a little cough, or those who let the world scare them into believing people are going to hurt them. I don't see life that way. I've taken my knocks, and I'm stronger and more resilient for them. It doesn't make me bitter, it makes me better. I've had this mindset since I was a little kid, and oddly enough, baseball has a lot to do with it. Allow me to explain.
I was 10 years old and just finishing up treatment. After 2 years of aching joints, losing hair, my back killing me, I could once again play the game that was my passion at 100%. I was in a very competitive league based in Mendon, and at the beginning of the year, my coach said I was going to be the team's "closer." For those who don't know, a closer in baseball is a pitcher that comes in late in the game and shuts the other team down. It's usually a guy that throws very hard for a few innings and is the guy you can count on to finish the game without allowing any more runs to the other team. Needless to say, when I learned I was going to close games, I was excited.
I played my first game of the season the morning after having a bone marrow test, and while my back was killing me, I struck out all four batters I faced. The day after I had surgery to take a cathader out of my chest, I closed out a game, allowing no runs, and just two hits over three innings and struck out six. I ripped 2 stitches in the process. I never even felt 'em tear. That's just the way I played. I just came in to pitch late in the game, reared back and blew hitters away. I recall hearing the crowd of parents, as well as my teammates cheer with each strike I fired. It was the first time in my life I can ever remember dominating at something. Not too long before, I had trouble just walking up stairs. But finally, I was healthy enough to a point where literally, I felt like nobody in the league could hit my fastball. And very few could.
I was on the mound when we won the championship that year. I remember feeling like nothing could touch me, and for the first time in my life, I tasted success. The winter before, as I was getting healthier, my mom caught for me as I pitched in 6 inches of snow out in the front yard. Now there I was, celebrating with my team as I was named league MVP. Through this I learned that, no matter the obstacle, with hard work, mental toughness, and some sheer guts, you can get past almost anything and come out the other side on top. Today, in my toughest times, I think back to those days when I was a closer for my team in Mendon. Sure, it was little league. But to a 10 year old boy who was just overcoming something very difficult, it was everything. In those games, I found my strength, my power. In those games I learned to play through pain. In those games I learned to shut out the world, the opposition, and just say to myself without a doubt, "you're gonna get it done."
Watching tonight, as the Chicago White Sox reliever Bobby Jenks fired 100mph fastballs at the Astros hitters, making them look completely overmatched, I found myself on the edge of my seat with heart pounding. With the crowd exploding with every pitch he hurled past the opposing hitters, Jenks was simply untouchable. There was nothing any of the opposing hitters could do but wave at pitches that were probably traveling too fast to even see. I found myself reflecting on my days as a 10 year old doing the same thing... obviously on a much smaller scale. I feel a connection with those guys that go out there and just give it all they have, and I absolutely love the guys that go out not just to win, but to completely dominate.
That's how I live life today. I am still a very relaxed guy, but when it comes to crunch time, I don't buckle. I plow through the hard stuff, and I try to do it with a clear head. I don't play softball to have fun, I play to the death. I don't bowl to socialize, I bowl to kick everyone elses ass. At my job, while I always work as a member of a greater team, I know that when the days are long and hard, I will always be at my best. And when I get sick, I will be at work anyway, because I have a job to do, and to me that's the only way to be.
I'm not saying any of this to brag, or to make myself seem important. Hell, anyone who has played softball with me, or bowled with me, or worked with me can attest to the above paragraph. I guess I am just now realizing that because of my past, I have a very strong survival sense to not only perservere, but to come out on the other side even better than before. This is my greatest asset I think, and I think I'm just figuring that out now. I'm not the smartest person in the world, nor am I the fastest, or the kindest, or the most organized... but I know that I can grit it out and get through almost any obstacle in my way. I guess I've been like this since those days I played baseball... opportunistic, going after the world with everything I have. It's the patience part I've had to learn along the way, as some of you know quite well.
Watching Jenks pump his fist after making Adam Everett look silly on three straight pitches, hearing the crowd go nuts.... these brought me back to those days as a 10 year old playing baseball, when I learned that out of hardship comes strength as well as the knowledge and confidence that you can get past anything in your way. To anyone who has read this far, thank you... as little as all this might matter to you, it means the world to me, and I just thought I would share. Take care everyone, and may we all overcome our obstacles today so that we may dominate tomorrow...
K, I am gonna step back and get sentimental now. I don't usually talk about the illness I had back when I was little, but I've found myself talking about it more recently. I think I am finally realizing how much that struggle has meant to my life. I look around me and see weakness, physically and emotionally... people scared and afraid of the latest "killer cold" or those who call in sick just cuz they have a little cough, or those who let the world scare them into believing people are going to hurt them. I don't see life that way. I've taken my knocks, and I'm stronger and more resilient for them. It doesn't make me bitter, it makes me better. I've had this mindset since I was a little kid, and oddly enough, baseball has a lot to do with it. Allow me to explain.
I was 10 years old and just finishing up treatment. After 2 years of aching joints, losing hair, my back killing me, I could once again play the game that was my passion at 100%. I was in a very competitive league based in Mendon, and at the beginning of the year, my coach said I was going to be the team's "closer." For those who don't know, a closer in baseball is a pitcher that comes in late in the game and shuts the other team down. It's usually a guy that throws very hard for a few innings and is the guy you can count on to finish the game without allowing any more runs to the other team. Needless to say, when I learned I was going to close games, I was excited.
I played my first game of the season the morning after having a bone marrow test, and while my back was killing me, I struck out all four batters I faced. The day after I had surgery to take a cathader out of my chest, I closed out a game, allowing no runs, and just two hits over three innings and struck out six. I ripped 2 stitches in the process. I never even felt 'em tear. That's just the way I played. I just came in to pitch late in the game, reared back and blew hitters away. I recall hearing the crowd of parents, as well as my teammates cheer with each strike I fired. It was the first time in my life I can ever remember dominating at something. Not too long before, I had trouble just walking up stairs. But finally, I was healthy enough to a point where literally, I felt like nobody in the league could hit my fastball. And very few could.
I was on the mound when we won the championship that year. I remember feeling like nothing could touch me, and for the first time in my life, I tasted success. The winter before, as I was getting healthier, my mom caught for me as I pitched in 6 inches of snow out in the front yard. Now there I was, celebrating with my team as I was named league MVP. Through this I learned that, no matter the obstacle, with hard work, mental toughness, and some sheer guts, you can get past almost anything and come out the other side on top. Today, in my toughest times, I think back to those days when I was a closer for my team in Mendon. Sure, it was little league. But to a 10 year old boy who was just overcoming something very difficult, it was everything. In those games, I found my strength, my power. In those games I learned to play through pain. In those games I learned to shut out the world, the opposition, and just say to myself without a doubt, "you're gonna get it done."
Watching tonight, as the Chicago White Sox reliever Bobby Jenks fired 100mph fastballs at the Astros hitters, making them look completely overmatched, I found myself on the edge of my seat with heart pounding. With the crowd exploding with every pitch he hurled past the opposing hitters, Jenks was simply untouchable. There was nothing any of the opposing hitters could do but wave at pitches that were probably traveling too fast to even see. I found myself reflecting on my days as a 10 year old doing the same thing... obviously on a much smaller scale. I feel a connection with those guys that go out there and just give it all they have, and I absolutely love the guys that go out not just to win, but to completely dominate.
That's how I live life today. I am still a very relaxed guy, but when it comes to crunch time, I don't buckle. I plow through the hard stuff, and I try to do it with a clear head. I don't play softball to have fun, I play to the death. I don't bowl to socialize, I bowl to kick everyone elses ass. At my job, while I always work as a member of a greater team, I know that when the days are long and hard, I will always be at my best. And when I get sick, I will be at work anyway, because I have a job to do, and to me that's the only way to be.
I'm not saying any of this to brag, or to make myself seem important. Hell, anyone who has played softball with me, or bowled with me, or worked with me can attest to the above paragraph. I guess I am just now realizing that because of my past, I have a very strong survival sense to not only perservere, but to come out on the other side even better than before. This is my greatest asset I think, and I think I'm just figuring that out now. I'm not the smartest person in the world, nor am I the fastest, or the kindest, or the most organized... but I know that I can grit it out and get through almost any obstacle in my way. I guess I've been like this since those days I played baseball... opportunistic, going after the world with everything I have. It's the patience part I've had to learn along the way, as some of you know quite well.
Watching Jenks pump his fist after making Adam Everett look silly on three straight pitches, hearing the crowd go nuts.... these brought me back to those days as a 10 year old playing baseball, when I learned that out of hardship comes strength as well as the knowledge and confidence that you can get past anything in your way. To anyone who has read this far, thank you... as little as all this might matter to you, it means the world to me, and I just thought I would share. Take care everyone, and may we all overcome our obstacles today so that we may dominate tomorrow...