This is a personal essay of mine being published on Longstoryshort.com August 7th.




Taking the Field

The principles I have learned about life and the pursuit of writing, I have also learned from the good old game of baseball and its players. You never give up, you try and try again, you don’t over think things or you’ll jam yourself; these are things that help any person in life not just in baseball. Courage is the only way to achieve in the game of baseball; and so it goes for any area of life. I had to put that ideal to the test recently and ironically it took place on a baseball field.

I had been writing a weekly column for a Phillies baseball website for a year, when I was asked to cover media day for the double A Phillies team. I had never done anything like that before, yet I knew I wanted the assignment. I wanted to prove to myself that I was capable of doing something totally out of my realm of experience.

I arrived at First Energy Stadium in Reading, Pennsylvania known as “Baseball town USA.” The sun was awfully warm and bright that day, igniting me with some much needed energy. I gazed at the gorgeous, but intimidating field below. A minor league baseball field always has a casual vibe to it, but I knew I would have to be a big leaguer to get through that day. After all that was where Phillies greats like Mike Schmidt and Larry Bowa had once played, starting their careers in the Phillies farm system. And here I was, in A ball stage of writing.

I had never interviewed professional baseball players before. What was I going to do? Was I going to just step up to the plate with no plan? Former Major League player Lenny Dykstra always said, “It’s better to get up there and have an idea of what you’re going to do, instead of just hacking away.” I could not hack away. I had to be prepared, just like the great baseball players I loved.

The players slowly wandered in the dugout and sat down, waiting for us to interview them. All the other writers confidently headed to the field. As I followed like a new born puppy behind them, I was having a running, frantic dialogue in my mind. “What am I going to do? What am I doing?” I had stock questions prepared, but nothing great. I was going to strike out. I had to get a hit. I was going to hack away.

Then another voice got into the mix. The one of so many baseball players I’d heard talk before; the one that said “Don’t over think it.” If you over think what you are trying to do at the plate, they say, it will freeze you. I had to stop thinking about it and just do it.

I opened the gate, took the field and walked “to the plate.” With my bat (pen) in hand and my best poker face, I faced the challenge and took a swing. Though it was not the greatest work of my life, I accomplished something that fine day.

It may have been a soft tap, but at least I got on base.