Long Awaited Payoff

This morning, I got a note from a parent of one of my long-time players.  A Pitcher.  The note simply said, “Did (he) tell you what happened to him?”

The last time I was in contact with my left-handed ace, he was battling through a physical ailment that wouldn’t go away, so my first reaction was thinking, “Oh no!  Not more bad news.”

I quickly responded by asking the father what happened, only to read “I think that it’s something he should reach out to you on,” in the reply.  (OH NO!)

As fast as today’s technology allows us to instantly communicate with anybody we need to, I was nearly bursting at the seams waiting to hear news I was sure was devastating.

Turns out, my worst fears weren’t even close to the actual news of the day.

Before I share the news, let me give you a little background story…

I first met my crafty lefty (oh let’s call him Chris) nearly eight years ago.  He was tall, lanky, and pretty shy.  His dad did most of the talking, and while I was listening to the dad’s scouting report on his son, I would notice Chris very subtly nodding his head or leaking a small smile when I hit him with my hilarious sense of humor.

After our first throwing session, I jotted down the dad’s scouting report: Chris doesn’t throw hard, nor does he have a devastating out-pitch, but he throws a ton of strikes, and while other pitchers have garnered more attention, he’s always consistently got hitters out.  I pegged him a your typical left-handed “thumber,” but I agreed with the dad’s assessment, and fully believed Chris could be a successful pitcher in high school, and maybe even beyond.

Well, high school didn’t go exactly liked I thought it would for Chris, despite his coaches loving him, and each one repeating the same line: “He just gets hitters out.”  Sure he pitched well, but because he didn’t throw gas, or do anything “special,” he wasn’t able to crack the varsity roster until his senior year… despite being the winning pitcher in his county’s JV tournament final two years in a row.  Even when he earned his spot on the varsity, I didn’t think he got a fair shake.

But when he was called on, Chris kept on doing what he did best: getting hitters out.

Fortunately, he made enough appearances to attract attention from a college coach.  The coach (a former flame-thrower turned control specialist) felt the same way I did about Chris’ ability, and offered Chris a spot on his ball club.

Just when I thought Chris was about to receive the reward for years of paying his dues, the college coach stepped down from his position, making way for a new coach that didn’t see the value in a left-handed dart-thrower.

Despite a promise from the new coach to honor the previous coach’s wishes, Chris was cut from the ball club… right after a solid fall season, and after he did more than his part in the team’s fundraising efforts.

But, instead of packing it in, or giving in to the temptations of “college life,” Chris continued to throw, and once the summer season rolled around, kept getting hitters out.

When I heard the news that Chris made his college team in his sophomore year, I was over the moon.  But when the season got underway, I was brought back down to Earth because as you may have guessed by now, he didn’t get anywhere near the innings he deserved.

Now I wasn’t bitter or mad simply because one of my players wasn’t getting a shake, or that my ego was bruised because I predicted better things for Chris on the mound.  I just couldn’t understand how a pitcher that every coach he’s ever played for declared their love for him, but wouldn’t give him the chance to succeed.  I mean I’ve come across coaches that would give innings or at bats to players they didn’t think could cut the mustard, just so the coaches could say “I told you so.”  Chris couldn’t even get innings out of spite.

But Chris kept throwing, kept working.  As he’d done throughout his time on the mound, Chris developed a little more movement on his fastball.  He began developing more bite on his breaking pitches, and even more deception on his change up.  At the end of his junior year, Chris would prove that he could get hitters out at the college level, and oh yeah, lead the staff in ERA too.

That was really all I needed to see.  I felt great for Chris that he was finally able to show people what he could do on the mound, and at the college level.

But today Chris told me that the same coach that only a few years ago, didn’t see Chris being able to contribute at all for his ball club, named him as one of the team’s captains for his senior year.

As a coach and instructor for over sixteen years, I’ve worked with a taught my share of players.  I’ve coached several players that would dominate high school and excel in college.  I would instruct players that would not only get drafted but even land themselves on a big league diamond.

But players like my man Chris is what it’s all about.

Right now, you may not have a jaw-dropping, head-turning, drop-everything-and-watch game.

So what?

If you believe in your “stuff,” be patient, and continue to work hard as if you’re just one outing or at bat away from “the right” people seeing exactly what you can do.  I promise you will be very happy with the outcome.  It may not be tomorrow, next week, or even this season.  But at the end of the proverbial day, like my old hitting coach used to tell me, the cream always rises to the top.

Congratulations to my main man “Chris,” and to every player out there not willing to call it a day, until they say so.

Coach Bones