The Greatest Game Ever.

I hope when you read this you will be inspired to live an extraordinary life.

From the time I was about 6 I was fascinated by baseball. My father wasn't the most gifted athlete. I never was given the chance to have a real catch with him or travel and play with him at my side. He died just before I turned 8. I thank my mother for all her patience an for taking the time to play a little catch with me. There came a point where I just threw to hard for her and it was no longer safe for her. She did her best. I played other sports and excelled at them all. I had offeres to play college football and baseball. My first year of College I even played basketball, but I dreamed about baseball. Every shirt I owned had a baseball on it and I was always pounding my hand like I had a glove on it. When I closed my eyes at night and laid my head on the pillow there was Reggie Jackson stairing me down and I was pitching in the World Series against the Yankees. Now I know there are some people reading this now thinking I am a Yankee Hater. Not at all, I always wanted to be the best and in order to be the best you got to beat the best. When I was a kid in the late 70's and early 80's the Yanks were the team to beat. When family members asked me what I wanted to be when I was older I said without hesitation, "A baseball player." They laughed and said things like, "What an imagination." Then came a day when I was playing in front of them in a minor league game in my home town of Battle Creek, Michigan. Now they were saying things like, "You actually did it!" I will be honest with all of you reading this, I was not a very good little league player. There are kids like Chad Hermansen that everyone knew was going to be a super star. He was a great player naturally. The same with Bryce Harper. He just out works people. I had a chance to see Chad swing in my cage in the off season and he was so smooth an fluid it was amazing and it was natural. I was a short, pudgy, slow, awkward, clumsy kid. My coaches hid me in right field and prayed that nothing would be hit my way. I just loved to play. The best thing my Dad did do while he was alive was turn me to the left side of the plate. I naturally grab the bat with a left hand grip, but went to the right hand side of the plate. Instead of changing my hands he turned me around and put the bat on my other shoulder. A pure left handed hitter was born that day.
Surrounded By Eagles
One summer I had a friend who was a junior in high school. I was in sixth grade and I was taller than he was. I don't even think he was five feet tall. He loved baseball too and would bat boy for a college summer league team. He asked me to help him one summer. Suddenly I was surrounded by the best players I had ever experienced. Most of them were top college players in the country. Today two of those players are minor league managers Bruce Fields and Kevin Bradshaw of the Detroit Tigers. That summer I learned how to track down a fly ball, turn a real double play and throw a curve ball that wouldn't hurt my arm. I worked part time as a paperboy fill in and mowed yards in between my own games and the college summer league. These guys taught me some of the most memorable things that I have learned in life and I got 8 cavities that summer from all the soda they bought me. For the first time in my life I had a sense of direction. If I did what these guys did then one day I would be where they were. I asked lots of questions and they made comments like, "If I could do it over again I would do this." So I decided to do the "this".
So next summer when school was out and my birthday was just around the corner my mother asked me what I wanted for my birthday. I handed her a cut out picture from the JC Penney catalog. It was a Joe Weider weight bench with a squat rack. She was surprised and agreed that this was a good thing. So that summer I spent playing, as a bat boy, and lifting weights. I even designed my own devices and exercises that developed baseball specific muscles. that was the summer of transformation. I was able to transform my pudgy uncoordinated body into a lean work of art. I grew three inches that summer and when I returned to school the heads were turning. I would ride my bike 5 miles three to four days a week to the batting cage and hit till my hands blistered. I had a unorthodox swing that worked for me. I willed myself to hit and had no instruction. I just watched hitters and tried to figure out a way that was comfortable and quick. I looked like Ricky Henderson. Low to the ground with an up swing. Today I look at that swing and wonder how I was ever successful. I just loved to play and I out worked more talented players at my age. I was always throwing a ball of a wall and pretending to be Ozzie Smith. I drew boxes on walls and pitched game seven of the college world series about 800 times for Arizona State. It was funny to think that one day I was called by them and was all set to go there. I had an injury and they wanted me to pitch. I wanted to play short. So I went to junior college for a year. Here is how much I loved baseball. When other boys were discovering girls I still didn't even know they existed. When friends where going to movies and parties I was lifting weight in my basement on a Friday night. Just about ever choice I made was followed by the question....Will this make me a better player? Yes it will then I'll do it. No it won't then never mind. I passed up vacations, holidays, dates, girls, some social gathering, and family time to do what I truly loved to do. When I got to college they instituted maximum practice schedules. That's is right they actually limited the amount of hours a team could practice together. That is like telling Mozart he can only practice 20 hours a week or Lance Armstrong can only train for the Tour-De-France 20 hours a week. I learned what "Can't See" hours are. "Can't See" hours are the hours when people are sleeping or can't see you working. I hit after practice on my own at least 10 hours a week. Once again doing it until my hands were bloody and blistered. I hit so much my senior year my hands were tapped up like a boxers all the time. I'm not gonna kid around here I like baseball, but I love to hit. Today I see the swing in slow motion. I have dreams of hitting still, but also I dream of my students swinging. Sometimes while I am sleeping I will wake up and have the next drill or the answer to whats going on with one of my students swings. I come up with drills to teach a specific movement so they can feel what the right move feel like.
So Where am I going with all this? I see something in kids and parents today that concerns me. The first is parents that want it more than their kids. Parents....Your kids confide in me and tell me things that they are afraid to tell you. I treat it as coach/client confidentiality. I tell them that I will not tell you anything unless they want me too. I also tell them that it's okay and they should not be afraid to tell you the truth. They are kids and they want your love and acceptance. They are scared to disappoint you or let you down, so they keep playing hoping eventually they will either grow to like the game or that you will see that their heart is no in it and give them a chance to get out. And yes I have told parents that little Johnny needs a break or even that he doesn't look like he is having fun. Remember baseball is still a game and game are supposed to be fun. The other thing that concerns me is a general lack of passion for the game. A just showing up is half the battle attitude. Showing up is half the battle, but it is not the most important half. That half is call blood, sweat, and tears. Mastery is a lifetime process. Aikido masters, violinists, golfers, take decades to become the best. Even when they are the best they keep working and training the same skill over and over until it is a reaction or until it is natural. I see kids begin to experience success in hitting after a few months and then they never come back. Like they are fixed, not that they were ever broken. All the "I would have done this" stuff is what I teach. My students will one day surpass anything that I have ever done because the stuff I learned I learned at 20 years of age. They are learning it at 10. I am accelerating their learning by a whole decade. I have high school freshmen that I have worked with for three and four years now that hit harder then college sophomores. I will have 7th and 8th graders that hit the ball farther and harder than high school juniors and seniors. I know why Bryce Harper is the best. Because at 10 years old he lived at the batting cage. His dad has probably thrown 10,000 hours of batting practice to him. He has traveled all over to be put in front of and educated by some of the best players in the game today. If you went to his house I am guessing there would be all sorts of devices, books, videos, and whatever else is out there to become a better player. I would bet my life on it. So now you are seeing the ripple effect of starting out at 10. He will be a first rounder and get somewhere in the neighborhood of 10 million as a signing bonus. Was it worth it? I'm sure it will be. Was it worth it to me? People have told me that my obsession with baseball has cost me a lot and that I missed out on important things in life. Let me put your mind at ease baseball has given my just about everything that has been important to me in life. I have traveled on the dime of baseball, been in 2 movies, 5 or 6 commercials, gone to acting school, modeled, sat with owners of some of the largest and most successful companies in America, dated models, actresses, hit three home runs in a game twice, and four once, pitched a no hitter, hit the cycle, and hit a walk off home run in one of the most exciting games in my life. I wouldn't trade my life for all the gold in the world. I feel people that do not pursue their life long dream are really missing out on the real juice in life. In baseball the only way to the top is to outwork 99% of the other players. It takes a little more to be a champion. It takes "Can't See hours" of work. Hitting until your hands bleed then hitting 20 more balls, diving for ground balls in practice and not just the game, watching video, taking lessons, and finding a friend to do it with. It's also not letting the excuse of I don't have anyone to play catch with or hit with stop you. Your success is dependant on one person and one person only. That person is YOU! Along the way you might meet someone that cares about your success, but they are not dependant on it. I guess Napoleon Hill sums it up when he explains that one of the keys to success is the habit of "Going The Extra Mile". We are a slave to our habits. So if we are to be a slave to them then we might as well be a slave to good ones. Go The Extra Mile today. Do more and give more than expected. Average people give what is expected, below average people give less than is expected, but extraordinary people give more than is expected or even than they are paid for. I challenge you to be extraordinary.

New Members and New Records.

Jordan Blanchard currently pitching for Western Nevada Community College posted a 91 mph exit speed over the Christmas break. His younger brother Chandler, pictured here, bested him and set a new personal record of 93 mph. Way to go Chandler! Chandler has also recorded exit speeds with live pitching at 97 mph. Very soon I will be creating the 100 mph club and I am pretty sure that Chandler will be one of the first high school hitters in Nevada to join an elite group of hitters. Chandler is a freashmen at Coronado High School in Henderon, NV.