I received an email from a college pitcher the other day. He was recovering from surgery, unsure if things were going to work out in favor of triumphant on field return. Understandably, this had shaken him. He felt he would be robbed of a life long dream, especially since he felt he had more to give the game. The following is my response:
Dear Young Padawan,
I know what it feels like to live life through the lens of “how-does-my-arm-feel-today?” It’s not fun, or easy. There is really nothing I can tell you beyond the concept of perspective, that baseball is not going to fulfill you the way you think will, especially when you think of how much emotional duress the possibility of not playing it anymore is chewing you up. I’m sure you do have more to give the game, but bear in mind that the game will take everything you have to give it, and in the end, it won’t thank you when you break down and can’t keep going, no matter when that point arrives. That’s because it’s just a game. We play it thinking it will give us happiness eternal and value never ending, as if it was some omniscient force that rewards our dedication to it. But a game doesn’t do that. It cant. WE do that. WE project the impossible value and meaning into dreams, and when they are cut short, WE are the ones who convince ourselves that we are cut short as well. There is nothing wrong with wanting to play at the top level, or sacrificing to see a dream come true. But part of dream chasing—indeed, part of baseball and life in general—is the understanding and acceptance that sometimes things don’t work out. Sometime we lose, for obvious or obscure reasons. This may not warm the heart, but it’s the truth, and a little truth can take the edge off life lived with fingers crossed and blinders on. Just like Hoffman said to me, I say to you—there is more to you than what happens on the baseball field, and that’s a good thing. Because as much as success on a baseball field can bring you, it will never tell you what you are, or how valuable you can really be. We live in a time of social currency wherein we believe our value rises and falls according to the masses ability to recognize us. That is no way to live. Our value comes from within. You’ve had a great career, you are about to graduate college, and you do have a lot to give, whether or not you get your arm back. You must believe that, or baseball will have done you more harm than good.
Best wishes on a speedy recovery.
Dirk