Blog #8: From Snowball to Avalanche Part 2

It was a long seven- hour bus ride from San Luis Obispo to San Diego. Before we checked into the hotel, we stopped by the Palomar Junior College ball field to analyze the grounds and see where we would be playing for the first time. I didn’t know it at the time, but when we left to check into the hotel, it’d be the last time I would ever step on that field again. I remember this vividly in particular after arriving at the hotel. We got off the bus, sorted out all of the bags, and received our room keys. I was staying with two of my actual roommates whom I was very close. It became a whole ordeal getting to our rooms with 25 anxious guys all trying to get on the single elevator at the same time. When the elevator came back down, I almost made it on, but there was only enough room for my two bags but not me. I asked my roommate to just kick them off at our floor and I was going to take the stairs. We only had a short period of time to get settled and back to the bus for a few hours of practice. I was very tired and not looking forward to practicing.

After cursing myself the whole way up the five flights of stairs, I turned the corner to find that my bags were not there. My heart began racing and a warm sensation overwhelmed my body. Fighting with every fiber of my being not to erupt, I made my way down every floor, finally finding them on the second floor. This time I took the elevator up to my room. Finally finding it, I kicked the door open, instantly firing accusations at my friends for their practical joke. I had been used to these types of pranks growing up,, but they had picked the wrong day. Except it wasn’t my teammates who were the perpetrators, it turned out to be Sweetness. As soon as I learned that it was my pitching coach pulling my chain, I snapped. The small snowball that began forming at the top of the mountain had eventually turned into an unstoppable avalanche. I had announced to my two teammates and close friends that I was quitting right then and there. One of them began getting disconcerted with my actions and verbal blows were flying everywhere. It was a very disturbing scene, as I began throwing lamps and even the phone. The phone inadvertently almost hit my friend. I had lost it. I had lost the desire to play the game I once loved. I had lost the will to continuously sacrifice my life and body for this sport.

I called my grandfather, who lived five minutes down the road, and asked him to pick me up. I was sitting on the curb waiting for my grandpa, watched my team drive by going to practice, when I got this sudden urge to rip up my jersey, write in permanent ink things that are inappropriate for this blog, and put it on my pitching coach’s windshield. My team would go on to lose a critical game in the best of three game series, which I would later find out my coach wanted me to start. We lost the series and to this day, I still feel guilty about letting my teammates and friends down, something that will haunt me for the rest of my life.