Never Miss a Pitch

There’s almost nothing specific I can remember about most of my baseball career. Sure, there are some unforgettable big moments. However, I don’t remember scores or stats. I couldn’t tell you about big plays or any particular at bats…

..except one. 

I can recall every detail of a single pitch in 2007 and the reason for the memory isn’t because it was a remarkable moment. In fact, nothing happened. It was a strike. I took it (meaning I didn’t swing). And, literally nothing else happened. 

What I need you to hear is as of writing this I have a frame-by-frame memory of this one pitch. The pitch was in the low ninety miles per hour range but I swear I could see the seams on the ball then (and now). There was a runner on first, one out at Pepperdine with the wind blowing out. The count was specifically three balls, no strikes. I looked down to get my sign between pitches (like I would every pitch) from the third base coach. Nine hundred and ninety-nine times out of a thousand the 3-0 count calls for a mandatory “take” signal, which means the hitter is restricted from swinging. 

When I looked down, I got a sign I’d never received in my career and wouldn’t receive ever again. Coach gave me the “green light” and he also gestured with his left hand out to the Pacific Ocean beyond the left field wall. It was the coaching equivalent of, “If you get the pitch.. hit it off the moon.”

I stepped in the box excited. Knowing the perfect pitch and the only pitch I’d authorize myself to take a swing on would be a low nineties, four seam fastball thigh high on the middle third of the plate. That’d be what dreams are made of in this situation. When the pitch came, you couldn’t have 3D printed a more ideal pitch. 

For the sake of brevity, not getting your front foot down in time as a hitter will make you “late”, especially on a fastball. It’s the baseball hitter equivalent of not being ready. I got my foot down late and the rest is history. I watched the perfect pitch leave the pitcher’s hand and tracked it in slow motion to the catcher’s glove. I was frozen and my stomach ached with regret.

My reason for sharing this is the classic tale about being ready. You won’t remember much of the details about the things that you think matter today, but if opportunity comes your way and you aren’t ready. You’ll want that moment back. I promise you that. 

As we jokingly say in the baseball community, “swing hard in case you hit it.”