Well, that was quick.
I have been, as they say in baseball, "released" by the organization. Cuts were made on Sunday night after the day's scrimmage (that I did not participate in based on my back flaring up again), by text message. By form text message. By a form text message with a typo in it.
Thanks, coach. You're welcome for busting my ass over the last couple months, and I understand if you didn't want to spend a few precious seconds making sure your avoidance of face-to-face contact had correct spelling. Classy.
I did get the chance to talk about it, though. I went in this morning to coach's office, where we talked for a few minutes about what he thought and why. Coach explained that as a non-scholarship player that would only be around for one year, I basically had to show that I was good enough to start to be kept on the roster. There were too many other players that either had already been given scholarship money and couldn't get cut, or were freshmen who had 5 years to learn from the organization instead of one. So for me, they would rather use a bench slot on someone else. And there was no point in keeping me around for the next few weeks of training and fall ball when they knew what the outcome was going to be.
I understand why they made that decision, and I can't sit here and say that they should have done something different. A decision like that comes down to a coach's philosophy of what is best for his program, and that's up to him. They evaluated my talent correctly. The kicker is, I could have saved us all a bunch of time and TOLD them this was going to happen. I could have said, "look, I'm not good enough to be a starter. I don't hit for enough power, and my arm's not strong enough. My use to this team is going to be through foot speed and leadership." And coach would have said, "I understand, and a roster spot is too valuable to spend on a player that brings that to the table."
And so I would have been saved all the throwing up I did over the summer. BOY did I spend a lot of time on this.
But you know what? I'm not sorry. I'd do it again. To be part of a D-1 program, to get the gear and be part of the team, and see that I was one of the 35 most talented players on the field at this point in time (even if some of these freshmen project pretty well), was worth it and I'd do it again. Besides, I got some great writing material out of it.
--
So now what? My baseball career is finally over. After 17 years, hundreds of games, thousands of at-bats, and who knows how many swings and games of catch, my playing career has finished. What a ride! Baseball has certainly been the defining part of my life to this point, and has taught me much about life: hard work, success, teamwork, failure, disappointment, management, fitness, even spirituality. But oddly enough, I'm not as sad as I thought I would be. I feel less like I'm being forced out of something I love, and more like I finally finished working on a huge project, where now I'm sitting back and thinking what a great accomplishment it was. I think the fact that I knew it was going to end soon, whether it was this last May, or now, or next June, made me think about it and come to terms with it before it happened. Adding to the list of positives is that there's an awful lot of stuff that I have now been freed to be able to do:
-- I have an extra 30 hours a week. 30 hours! I talked to a professor yesterday for a half hour, and I think I'm going to be able to start doing research in his lab. I mean, I AM here for academics, anyways.
-- I can golf! I haven't been able to golf more than a handful of times since I got serious about baseball. I LOVE golf. I'll have to work on my swing, certainly, but I've got some time for that now.
-- I can snowboard! Same deal; the danger of wrist injury kept me away from snowboarding all through high school and college. I have some money saved up that I think I'm going to spend on some new gear: boots, bindings, board, maybe some pants, the works. And student rates for season passes are in the $300 range, which is AWESOME.
-- I can visit friends! I had to tell all of my friends at the end of school, when we all went our separate ways around the country, that I didn't know when was the next time I would be able to see them. Now I have the time to make a few trips and spend some time with people who are important to me.
-- I can drink! Maybe this isn't a big deal for some of you, but I do occasionally like to sit down and have a drink, maybe two, maybe get blind drunk and pass out with my shoes on. Pretty normal for a 22-year-old. But while most of my peers were enjoying their newfound legality over the past few years, I was staying sober for training and baseball. I don't think I'll develop into a steady drinker, but I like at least having the freedom to do so.
-- I'm not constantly in pain! I don't have to throw a baseball for as long as I want. I don't have to swing a bat for as long as I want. I can let my hands, my elbow, my shoulder, my back, my foot, everything on me that hurt at least a little ALL THE TIME finally take a rest. I can lift and run when I want, and take a break when I want.
That's a pretty good list, and that's just the start. I don't think I will be hurting for things to do in the meantime.
But...
It's not springtime yet. And when spring comes, and the grass is growing, and spring training starts, and the frost gives way to new grass, it will be baseball season. And I won't be playing. When I had to sit out a year for my shoulder, the track guys all made fun of me because I kept telling them that it smelled like baseball season. Spring will always mean baseball to me. And I will miss it the most this time around.
Even though my playing days have ended, my relationship with the game has not and never will. In recognition of that, it might be time for me to get my feet wet in the coaching world. I liked being a captain on my old team, and I quickly built a reputation with the younger players here as someone who was knowledgeable and to be respected. I think that translates well into an assistant coach, especially at the high school level; I would hope to focus on hitting, baserunning, and outfielding-- my specialties. I want to learn what it's like to be a head coach from a position that would let me observe from very close, with an established head coach at a good program.
At the end of my conversation with Coach, he told me he knew the head coach of a high school in town that has had a successful program, and he would give him a call and recommend me as an assistant. I don't know yet how that's all going to work with school and class and my other newfound activities, but I think this is a step in the right direction. And it's a way to stay involved in the game that has meant so much to me.
--
Where does that leave Inside the Lines? As a project, it has fulfilled its purpose. I intended to chronicle my time trying to walk on to a D-1 program, and I have done that. I hope the readers have learned a little more about what it's like to live the life of a collegiate baseball player.
I think that for the time being, ITL will remain dormant. I could figure out a way to view my coaching exploits, if they happen, into an extension of what it's like to live inside the lines... but I might have to write a new intro. Maybe re-qualify my opening statement. Something. Whatever. You guys will know what's up.
I guess this is goodbye for now. Thanks for reading.
-- Your Loyal Baseball Scribe
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