“Ego needs honors in order to be validated. Confidence, on the other hand, is able to wait and focus on the task at hand regardless of external recognition.” - Ryan Holiday (Ego Is The Enemy, pg. 134)

As a closer in baseball, you are the man.

No one can fuck with you, at least that’s what you think.

When the time comes, the coach hands you the ball and hopefully doesn’t take it away from you until the last batter is retired. 1-2-3, a closer’s dream.

You sit down the side in order, and if you’re feeling extra sexy that day, you end it on a strikeout.

For a while, I closed as a pitcher in college baseball. I felt like the man. I was the man. A couple of times, I even got recognized by the conference for my performance.

The job was simple.

Rear back, throw the shit out of a two-seam fastball, then back it up with a nasty slider.

As a lefty who could sit comfortably in the upper 80s and occasionally touch 94, I felt like a God in the Atlantic 10 College Baseball League.

For 18 months as a sophomore and junior, no one could touch me.

Then, my nerve started to go. Without diving into detail, I had two ulnar nerve transposition surgeries. The pain rose to the point of feeling like I got stabbed in the elbow every time my arm cocked back to throw a baseball.

After the second surgery, I returned to be a serviceable pitcher, though nowhere near my sophomore self. But after the first surgery had failed, I decided to alter my throwing motion to pitch without pain.

My whole life, I had thrown over-the-top, like a football quarterback. But when over-the-top was no longer an option, I decided to drop my arm slot down to sidearm, then eventually submarine.