That next season I played the game with the same intensity I always had, but my perspective changed. I stopped being afraid of failure or living for the validation a tumbling white ball could grant. No longer was I worried about being labeled a prospect or having writes ups in the paper. I didn't even worry about getting to the big leagues.
Dreams are funny things, they can fill your life with hope, direction and purpose just as easily as they can lead you merrily down the road to oblivion and desperation. The trick is to master them before they masters you. Down there, on my Grandmothers floor, I realized that I had the power to control my dreams.
That year—which was to be my parting season—I pitched so well and had so much fun you would have thought I had just learned the game. I was reborn, confident, fearless. And, one year after standing at the edge of my career’s ruin, I was in the big leagues, with a book deal, about to be married to the love of my life.
Now people send me letters to thank me for my writing. Parents pay me to teach their kids how to pitch. Clubs ask me to come speak at their benefit dinners and organizations ask me to share my perspective with their teams. Me, just some average minor leaguer with lack luster career stats, an air mattress, and a notepad. Even as I look back now, I am blown away by what can happen when you let go of your expectations and trust yourself.
Book me for a speaking event
and I'll gladly share with you the amazing experiences and stories that changed my perspective, and my life.