Yesterday I was left home alone, and the weather was terrible. Forced to spend the entire day inside, what did I do?
I watched two baseball games in their entirety—from the first pitch to the final out. The Phillies defeated the Diamondbacks 4 to 3, and my favorite team, the Red Sox, defeated the Cardinals 7 to 1.
All that baseball caused me to reflect on my own baseball career.
When people find out I’m such a big baseball fan, they often ask about my playing days. I think they expect a better story.
I have always loved baseball and played as much as I could for as long as I can remember. A full game takes at least 18 people, so I often had to settle for wiffle ball, hot box, or some other baseball-like game to scratch the itch.
Once I was old enough, my parents signed me up for tee ball. I loved it.
Since I was tall, they put me at first base. Because I had been playing catch my entire life, I handled the position fairly well. To this day, people who saw me play first base tell me I was good at it. I’ve decided to believe them.
At the plate was a different story. I must have been decent—I typically batted in the middle of the lineup. As my career progressed from tee ball to coach pitch and eventually to player pitch, I did OK. I wasn’t a slugger, but I got on base often enough to be useful.
Over time, my classmates started to throw harder, which made things more difficult for me. But they also struggled to throw strikes, so I started swinging less and settling for walks.
My quick reflexes at first base translated to the batter’s box, and I was rarely hit by pitches. I was also relatively afraid of the ball and quickly jumped out of the way if it came anywhere near me.
By the time junior high started, the method for placing you on a team changed—from assigning players by neighborhood to being drafted by Babe Ruth League coaches. It was time to find out what the rest of the city thought of each player’s skills.
In the draft, I was taken in the fourth round, twelfth overall. I remember hearing the news at school and thinking, ” What a terrible pick.” They got ripped off. I bet the coach drafting next was excited to find out the best available player was still on the board.
I had information the coach who drafted me didn’t have, and I was in over my head. I was basically stepping into the batter’s box, hoping to walk. I could barely swing quickly enough to hit a fastball. I had no chance to hit a curveball.
I didn’t play very much in Babe Ruth. Because others were better and deserved it more. They likely didn’t want it more and didn’t enjoy the game as much as I did. But they yielded better results.
I can’t close without pointing out that my brother, son, and—by all accounts—my father were all better players than I was. Good for them. I enjoyed watching my brother and son succeed. They went further than I did in their baseball careers, but eventually they reached the point where others had passed them by, and it was time to move off the field.
It was easy for me to relate this story back to the business world. I had raised past the point of my abilities. A clear example of merit. I loved my teammates and wanted to win. I was willing to help in any way I could. But most of them were more valuable toward getting us a win than I was. It didn’t make me less than. But it meant that over time, I would need to find new ways to enjoy baseball.
I look back with no regrets. I gave it my all. I didn’t settle. I got the most out of my God-given abilities.
Few things at work are as fun as seeing a coworker who takes that attitude to work every day. Giving it their all, enjoying their role, and helping others.
Ultimately, I became a baseball coach, and, of course, regardless of who you are or where you are in your workplace, you can coach the people around you.
I encourage people not to settle, but also to understand where they fit best and make the most of it. Then make sure you are celebrating your teams, even if they are excelling beyond your level.
(I also have two friends whose careers stopped just short of the Major Leagues. Just like me, they had to adjust to life without baseball. One thing about sports is that we all tend to rise to a level where we can no longer keep up. It even happened to Babe Ruth.)
