A Fish a Day

Long Island, New York, USA

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The Endless Summer...

August 30, 2017

I wish.  August is ending, with September coming right behind. Off to a six-day camp and tour with my soccer team. Looking forward to seeing how my individual work this summer pays off. It's been a summer of working out, fishing and keeping my brain in "school shape."  It's definitely important to take a little break when school first ends -- slept past 6 am for the first time in almost a year. I never realized before how awesome sleep could be. It's a rewarding activity in and of itself!

 

When you are pushing yourself in school and sports, you really need to find a balance. Sports are an option, they are supposed to be something you do for the love of it. You need to make sure you really love what you are doing -- and you need to make sure you are doing it for yourself.  It won't work in the long run otherwise, I believe.

 

I was as serious about baseball as I am about soccer up until about two years ago. One day I was sitting in the dugout during my team's turn at bat during a double header, and realized that as much as I loved the sport, I simply did not want to play it competitively anymore. I didn't know what to do, however.  My parents loved baseball. I had been playing it for years and years.  I was a key player on a team that won its district and its section and its region in the state championships. I picked up my glove and ran back onto the field when we made our third out.

 

A month later we were playing the state tournament again.  In the championship round, I got up and nailed an outside pitch off the right centerfield wall. I busted it out of the box just as my father always told me, just as I know any good player should, and just as every coach has told every player at every practice since the beginning of baseball time. I cut the base properly at first, toe-tapped second and flew into third. A triple.  Everyone screamed. The third base coach was ecstatic. I looked at my parents, sitting just on the other side of the fence a few feet away. "I don't want to do this anymore," I mouthed.

 

The car ride home was weird. I could see my parents thinking.  I was thinking too. Later that night my father told me he thought I just needed "a little break from baseball" and that I was just "burnt out on it" and "would realize I still wanted to play it in a month or so."  He was disappointed. My mother was too. When I stuck to my guns and didn't change my mind a month later, my coaches seemed disappointed too. Everyone seemed disappointed. But everyone seemed to understand too.

 

I had sleepless nights worrying about telling my parents and coaches I was quitting baseball.  Honestly, whatever fear I had about telling people I was quitting baseball seemed silly within days of letting people know what I wanted.  It wasn't relief as much as much as happiness from realizing that decisions in my life were mine to make.  And a sense of security from realizing that people cared about me enough to understand, accept and support my decisions.

 

I enjoyed my very next soccer practice more than ever. My father and I continue to watch the Mets (with the same misplaced hope and ultimate anguish we always had).  We still have a baseball catch once in a while and when the mood strikes, I ask him to throw me a few balls to hit.  I love swinging the bat.

 

Another sunset is here.  Only so many in any given summer.  Gotta do what you love.

Sunset on the home lake in Ellenville NY.

 

 

 

 

 

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