Dear Steven,
I'll get straight to the point and say that I don't totally fucking hate your guts.
You're a nice enough guy and deep down I really don't think you meant any harm...and I can respect that. Those words were totally forced but its the truth.
Nonetheless, 3 years ago today you extinguished the last coal of what used to be an exuberant fire that once burned inside of me.
I rarely expose myself to anyone fully. It may be because i fear scrutiny? It may be because knowing a person's honest opinion of you is intimidating? I'm not really sure why I'm not more forthcoming... but I'm a little buzzed right now and anyone who passes judgement can go fuck themselves.
I understand that I may have come off as cocky/arrogant/racist/chauvinistic/inconsiderate in previous blogs. If I haven't offended you at least once before then I suck at blogging. Thats the persona I've chosen to write with because it's easy to spark controversy and it fulfills my fiend for sarcasm. However, this now makes it difficult to really talk about things I consider important while having people take me seriously...but that's the bed I've made and now I've got to lay in it...so take this however you may.
I really used to care. I used to care about being successful and doing great things. We all had our childhood dreams of grandeur....astronaut, ballerina, baseball player what have you. A limited few became so impassioned that they actually did achieve their childhood dreams. I envy you at times....but there must be some disappointment in conquering the only challenge you've ever focused on, so I pity you at times as well. For the most part, however, people stray from their dreams and pursue either shit they're good at or end up doing something that just fucking works enough for them enough to stay sane. I did a lot of shit that I was good at just for the sake of it but I always truly believed, for one reason or another, that I was going to play professional baseball.
Feed your own sarcasm fiend here blog friends....
Okay now that that's out of your system....why the fuck should have I thought otherwise?
You want cocky/arrogant? I was good at everything as a kid. Looking at my old report cards might make you sick. I got all A's from 2nd grade until a junior in COLLEGE excluding one B. You want geometry, I gave you geometry. You want poetry, I gave you poetry. You want me to memorize this, I would memorize this. (And as a side note, the B game in 7th grade art...and it was because i gave a copy of my art report to a friend who whited out my name and put his own so "we got caught cheating") My high school GPA was 4.2. Thats not a typo. I was the quarterback of the football team. I was the prom king. I made the basketball team without even trying out because of a broken ankle. I was the only freshman on varsity baseball. All-star teams, state championships....if i go any further my head might suffocate you.
The thing is though I was shy as fuck. I lacked "swagger". I was innocent. Sheltered. I was an impressionable kid. Thank god that my parents knew what the fuck they were doing. Thank god my grandparents knew what they fuck they were doing with my parents. They raised me to be that way and I am thankful for that.
I never drank in high school. I never smoked anything either. And there is no doubt in my mind that kids (friends, former friends, classmates) mocked me for it or that somehow not partying made me lose credibility in their eyes but I didn't care. Fuck them. I am going to play professional baseball. From day one I truly bought into "be all you can be" and "you can do anything" and I was successful so it worked for me. Why did i believe? I don't know. I just did.
Fast forward to college. I passed up going to Bowdoin (a much better school at which I was recruited for football and baseball) to play D-1 baseball at UMaine. I was going to the fucking show, obviously. Now, I'm not delusional (most days)...I knew I wasn't the most skilled baseball player in the world. I knew I wasn't the best baseball player on our team even...but baseball is the one sport where a 5'11'' white guy willing himself to the major leagues isn't unheard of (see david eckstein, adam kennedy, tim hudson, etc..) I was going to make it.
The fire inside of me slowly died over the next 3 years. It probably started flickering when I started drinking alcohol like david hasselhoff. Who knew "preparing for rookie party" would turn into "owning the baseball house and having huge keggers" in a matter of about 14 months? That was just a flicker though...I can lay may head down at night saying I worked my fucking ass off on the field and in the weight room (unlike most Black Bears) with no regrets. Alcohol and lack of effort isn't what put out the flame.
Next, real life came in with a huge douse of flame destroying. Within 6 months I lost my grandmother and a couple of close friends. My grandmother lived 10 mins from campus and I had been going to her house ever since I can remember to play boggle, rummy, and just hang out with family. It was quick, unexpected, and it was a huge blow. I am tentative to write about the next huge flame extinguisher because it makes me uncomfortable. I watched an amazing person die. Literally saw it happen. And then within 4 months I left her sister not in the most noblest of ways.
Quite a downward spiral from "be all you can be". I had lost a lot of faith and dignity in a short time but I always owned up to my mistakes...there were a few good qualities that stuck from all the years of molding from mom, dad and the grandparents...honesty, sincerity. I'm not perfect. But by god I will not fucking lie to you and I will not intentionally do things to harm another person. That is legitimately the only conscience I live by. Shit happens, poor decisions are made,everyone regrets.... just don't lie or act with premeditated malicious intent.
Despite all of this I still had the ability to "hide things well". You want me to hide weakness, I'll hide weakness. Sprinkle in a few more 4.0 semesters and earn the starting shortstop position and everything seems just perfect. The coals of the fire hadn't burnt out yet.
Call it fate. Call it poor luck. Call it the nature of the beast. Call it Steven being a dickhead, yellow-bellied, cowardly liar. It is what it is. Don't preach one gospel when you believe another. I busted my ass for you. I gave my heart and soul to your program. I played for months when I couldn't even pull my own stirrups up in the morning because my thumb was so swollen. I went 7 full at bats in the dome without taking a fucking swing before I could get a cortisol shot "behind your back" in order to stay in the lineup. (for those of you who don't know jack-shit about baseball watch one game and see how many players don't take a swing during an at bat and it will suddenly appear how difficult it is to do this without looking like a complete jackass...thanks to the friends and teammates who rejoiced at the accomplishment with me).
I wasn't good enough for you. I'm fine with that. But what I took personal is that you are a fucking liar. Don't feed me bullshit. You're parents didn't teach you not to lie? You crushed the remaining coal of my fire with your ugly fucking new balance turf shoe.
Steven, you tore my heart out on April 15th, 2008 and not even 108 tiny red double stitches can repair it.
And just for the record, that e-mail I sent to you about my decision to leave the game of baseball wasn't just sent to you either. 15 copies were sent to teammates that I respected a hell of a lot more than I respected you because I knew you wouldn't tell them the fucking truth about what happened. They still talk to me too...not like a coward that doesn't admit to their misdoings.
Family and the values they instilled in me as a child are more important than baseball, Steven.
Sincerely,
#34
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