A few moments ago, I read a tweet from an old high school nemesis – Sean Doolittle. The topic of the tweet didn’t have anything to do with this post. His comment sent me down a mental rabbit hole, wondering what I’d say to him if we were to meet again. Sean was always an approachable rival, and there were a few occasions when we trained together at an indoor facility (it’s bothering me that I can’t remember the name of it). However, I was awkward, shy, and probably not very memorable. I don’t foresee a budding bromance in our future, even if we were to be re-introduced.
That got me thinking about who I was as a player back in my prime, and what I wish I knew then. I played competitive baseball through college. I attended a D-III school in St. Paul, Minnesota not known for sporting prowess. My recruiting class consisted of me, a lazy catcher, and two walk ons. The others all quit after freshman year. The best I can say about myself is that I contributed. For the first half of my junior season, I was actually quite good. I spent most of my college career pitching through arm injuries. I’m still pitching through those same, slowly worsening injuries.