Until my tryout and draft day tomorrow.
Something I haven’t said until just now: My nights have been sleepless, to put it kindly. It’s been pretty much a common occurence since this last Tuesday. I’ll wake up every hour on the hour, or worse yet, I’ll sleep maybe two to four hours and then wake up with the oppressive presence of blazing hot fear still lingering in the thoughts. Fear is a strange sensation; It’s both hot and cold at the same time. You sweat, but at the same time the goosebumps tingle along the skin as if caught in a stiff ocean breeze.
In case none of you have figured this out yet, I’m scared. I’m pants-shittingly, heart stoppingly, face-twitchingly scared.
And I shouldn’t be this way. It isn’t like my entire career is riding on this or anything like that. It’s pretty simple: Either I make it, or I go back to my normal life and job. Big whoop. I really don’t have anything to lose here. Also, it’s not like I haven’t tanked one of these before. So I know what to expect.
Honestly, I think the difference here is that my expectations have been raised now. Before, I came into these things with absolutely no confidence in my ability or talent. Recently though, I’ve seen enough progress with my new pitching style to believe, no matter how false this belief may be, that I have plenty of ability now. And for the most part, my confidence in this ability has risen dramatically. The knuckleball I’ve been working on has been incredible to see coming off the fingers, and I’ve little doubt as to it’s ability to get batters out, especially from my new underhanded pitching style.
Still… I know that practice is a different beast from the actual games. In practice, I can give myself enough time to find my pitch, to find my mechanics, and find the strike zone. In games, hitters won’t give you that time. It’s not like they step back and say, “Hey, I’ll just wait right here, and you let me know when you’re comfortable throwing!” Sure, I WISH they would. But you know the saying about wishes and shit. I think I covered that in a previous entry.
You know, I forgot what a bitch goddess baseball can be. She giveth in one hand, and cockpunches you with the other. Its cute like that. What I’m worried about is whether I’ll get more gifts than cockpunches. I’m quite allergic to the latter.
There’s a part of me that knows on a purely logical level, that this is ridiculous. I know that I’m being a drama queen needlessly. But I can’t help it.
So I know what I’m going to do.
Later today, I’m going to do one final practice. Nothing intensive. Just a nice game of catch with my catcher. And after that, I’m not going to do anything baseball related. I’ll play videogames. I’ll watch films. Maybe I’ll read a good book. I might even watch porn on the internets and cry furiously into my free hand. Who knows?
Tomorrow, I plan on getting to the tryout/draft early. Like 3-4 hours early. Give myself some time to stretch, do some running, and check out the mound I’ll be working from.
For now though… how are you guys? Hit me back. 🙂