Regret, Healing and Redemption

Regret

I was that 8 year old kid who threw helmets, slammed bats and embarrassed my parents. It still hurts me to say it, but some of my earliest baseball memories involve being removed from the dugout and sent to the car by my father to cool down. The only way I can explain it is to say that I felt like I should have hit a home run every time I came up to bat and if that didn't happen I was fighting mad. Some of it was an act to try and show my teammates I cared more than they did, but most of that aggression was simply misguided competitive nature and a lack of understanding that baseball, unlike basketball and baseball is a game of chance. What was chalked up as a "bad attitude" was really a lack of understanding on my part. My approach to the most beautiful game ever invented ruined many days at the field playing a game I fell deeply in love with at a young age.

Unfortunately, I didn't fully grow out of that approach in high school, or in college, or in the pros. I carried the burden of anger, aggression, self-hate and misery for all 23 years of my career. I never took it upon myself to do the deep, immersive work of re-wiring my perspective around the the sport I was being paid to play.

I wish I could go back with the perspective I have now. I am ashamed by the way I acted over the course of my career, the way I embarrassed my parents when I was a little boy and the way I embarrassed myself as I got older. I remember specific moments where I completely lost my cool and how much energy I wasted during those times, energy that could have been put towards building a long successful career. It's possible I cost myself an opportunity to play at the big league level because I couldn't be trusted in big moments on the biggest stage. When the Montreal Expos became the Washington Nationals the Major League roster was wide open. Every spring they were looking for talented, exciting players to put butts in the seats of old RFK Stadium and raise the brand awareness of the team in DC to get the new stadium built and the new organization established.

I was 6'3" 220 lbs., good in front of the camera, had the athleticism to play First Base and Outfield at the major league level, the ability to hit for power to all fields, and good speed. Unfortunately my former teammates would tell you I also had the mental approach of a 3rd grader. I'm not telling you my destiny was to be a 20 year big-leaguer and a hall of famer, but I know had the physical gifts to make it, contribute and entertain fans at the big league level. I remember conversations with front office decision makers who were begging me to get my mental game dialed in so they, and I could take advantage of my physical tools. I also remember feeling helpless in my ability to improve that area of my game. I had no idea how to fix it. In the end, my career was marked by spurts of greatness and flashes of athletic brilliance that were discounted by periods of failure, mistakes, low production and clubhouse disruption.

My low point was being sent down from the Savannah Sand Gnats of the South Atlantic League, back to the Gulf Coast League in Viera, FL to get my head straight in 2005. My high point was hitting for the cycle in Portland, Maine against the AA affiliate of the Boston Red Sox and then going deep at Fenway park against the same team the next day in 2007. I finished that season with 21 home runs and the next spring training I was 27 yrs. old and released from my contract. Life as a ballplayer.

Healing

Your 20's are THE MOST impactful decade of your life. I entered my 20's as college kid and exited them as a married man. During that decade I also became obsessed with weight lifting, played a lot of baseball and basketball, retired from baseball, lived in Korea for year, travelled to Singapore, Thailand and Malaysia and through those experiences I continued to grow, mature and gain new perspectives.

I remember returning from Korea, starting my career and joining a men's basketball league in Springfield, OR, missing a 3 pointer to lose a game and for the first time in my entire life I didn't slam anything, scream in the car on the way home or spiral into short-term depression. I was puzzled at who I had become, but it felt amazing, it felt free and clear. From that point on I no longer had to fear how I would react if things didn't go well or my team didn't win.

Seeing new parts of the world, entering your 30's and having children will do that to a man. At least it should anyway. Some people mature early, we call them old souls...they're easy going and wise beyond their years at a young age.

That just wasn't me. I burned hot, ran fast and jumped high, I bled, I dove, I hit the ground hard, hit it far and slapped myself in the face in the shadows. The way I competed created a lot of incredible memories for me and for other people as well.

In that I've found peace and I've forgiven myself. Maybe things could have been different, but they aren't, and I'm grateful for every experience I've had on the field and the court.

Redemption

Since retiring from baseball, I've owned and operated my own training facility and now I coach at every opportunity I get. I love contributing to the growth of the game by teaching its wonderful details to young players.

On every team I'm around I see players struggling with the failure of the game the same way I did for all those years. Baseball is so unique that way, you just don't see kids cry on the football field and the basketball court the way you do on the baseball field. It gets in your head man!

Because of the valuable life experience I've had, I now have the opportunity to put my arms around young baseball players and help them gain a new perspective on this game of chance, I get to look them in the eye and tell them they'll regret it if they lose their cool, I get to help them breathe their way through it, put in the mental reps and physical reps to prepare and I get to be there alongside them when they surmount emotional, physical and competitive hurdles. It's emotional for me because I see myself in these young men and I see the future they're building for themselves.

I am so grateful to have the redemptive opportunity to give a new generation of ballplayers, dads, coaches and parents armor and tools to help them avoid emotional injury.

Myndbeatz is my redemption.

Free and Clear.