Scared

I recently returned to what I love the most and makes me feel like myself; being competitive. After a fast two years of working in a position that required me to stay behind the scenes and make big decisions for a team and see success prosper through our own preparation, I was put back in a role where I go head-to-head with someone. The competition juices are still starting to seep, rather than flow (like they were) but nonetheless its coming back.

Since I have returned, there has been a huge change from where I was two years ago. Mainly in personnel. The personnel has gotten younger, and less experienced than when I was originally there. I’ve noticed that many of them aren’t necessarily sticking their necks out and doing the bold things that used to be done in the past. Many of them appear timid and the word “scared” has been thrown around a lot. I wondered to myself if I’ve showed those same characteristics when I was new, or if I show them now that I’m back.

Recently, I read a short story about “nice guys”. Nice guys want to please. They feel the need to be liked, or show compassion so there is no push-back onto them. This is no fault to their own, maybe they were raised this way, which isn’t necessarily a bad thing. But, when it comes to competition, as the old saying goes, “…they finish last.” In this line of work this is true, too. If you are too “scared” or play your “nice guy” role, people are going to walk free or take advantage of you. Sure, there are times when compassion and restraint are necessary but when doing interdiction or making traffic stops, its important to have that competitive edge. If you’re afraid to make a stop because you will make someone late, or cause them a financial burden; you are being too nice. The police are there to question decisions (or lack of decision making) in the public. If you make a stop, and there is nothing there; move on. However, you won’t know if something is there or not if you don’t make the stop.

That all being said, you are going to ruffle feathers. There will be people every day that won’t be pleased to speak to you. Speaking as a matter of fact, you will be the worst part of someone’s day. But, that is your job. Do your job. A story I read talked of a man and a young boy who needed to take a donkey to a town three towns over. At the beginning of the trip, the man mounted the donkey and began riding as the boy walked beside. As they passed through the first town, people sneered, “Look at that young boy forced to walk as the man with strong legs lazily rides.” The man dismounted the donkey and walked. The young boy jumped on the donkey’s back and rode into the next town. As they passed through the town, the people looked and yelled, “Hey boy! Let that old man ride the donkey, you have young legs, get off that thing and walk!” So, the young boy jumped off the donkey and the two walked side-by-side. As they passed through the third town, the man and boy tied the donkey to a long stalk of bamboo and carried it as they passed through all the people. The people laughed and said, “Look at these fools. Carrying a perfectly good donkey.” Moral of the story is: You can’t please everyone.

You’re going to have confrontation. That is the nature of this work. How you handle it is based on your environment. But, you can’t get into that environment without confrontation, first. You may have to stop someone; thats the nature of the job. Odds are, they wont be happy about it. But if you allow yourself to be a “nice guy” because of any insecurities to be liked or appreciated you may fall to the timidness and become “scared”. Its a small snowball, too. That snowball will start small, but the more you allow it to roll down hill, it will grow bigger. The next thing you know, you wont be able to pick it up and throw it with aggression and precision at your opponent. Find a good in-between, pick up the ball and play with intent.

Welcome Back

The heading to this entry felt fitting. I haven’t been here in years, yet I’ve been writing and journaling as much as possible. A lot of my stuff has been on iPad notes, or tid-bits here and there, but nothing substantial. I’ve toyed around with writing a series, or book about my experience the last two years, and most of that is in “Notes”. But, I feel like all I’m doing is writing to myself. Even though everything I’ve written has been something that I want someone else to read one day, its really only for me. Thats the power of journaling, the power of release.

I wasn’t sure what to write today, but I know one thing is certain; I wanted to write. There have been many things that have happened in my life the last eight months, but now I’ve felt fit to get it all out there. Recently, I finished a book called Can’t Hurt Me by David Goggins. There are hundred of thousands of people out there that review books, that talk about their impact on their lives, and how they have changed for the better because of this book. To me, this book does the same. I’m another one of those people but I don’t want to put it on social media because I’m afraid if David Goggins found out I wrote a review on him then he would kill me. But, like many people in this world most of what we read and what we intend on using with that literature goes to waste, which is probably why it took him 16 attempts. I feel like a lot of times I just read something whether its an online article or a blog or a snip-it about something going on – we just read the first couple lines and then we’re done until we’re asked to join a membership or subscribe to the journal we’re reading. It has no weight to what we’re actually trying to accomplish. This book has some weight. This guy did some pretty gnarly stuff and lived to talk about it. Read it.

Goggins talks about his early life at the beginning of the book. Everything he has to say is tough. I’ve never lived that kind of life, and frankly, there are people out there that live a harder life that he did. He doesn’t deny that. But, what it does give me is a sense of reality, a view that is close to ours in some way. He suffered, and then he learned from it. He became hard, and that sculpted him into what he is today. I remember when I was young, fat and stupid. I was the brother of a successful quarterback, the one that everyone wanted to date. But, if you were a boy, you’d want to be him and be with the girl he was with. Everyone envied him, including me. I strived to live up to his expectations, my brother. But, I was this little fat kid with “breasts” that people didn’t talk of. Yeah, I knew I was the fat kid, but no one ever crossed me because I was protected by my brother. No one wanted to offend him. So, I was included often. That mentality, though, transpired into something else. That mentality taught me that people’s perception of you is only what they want it to be. They don’t give a shit about who you are as a person. Granted, I was only 12 years old at the time, but that experience lives on through you for your entire life.

A lot of times through my young childhood I found myself wanting to be accepted. All I needed was my brother’s friends to want to like me. One day, I was sitting in the top bunk of the room he and I shared. I was playing The Matrix on PS2 and he asked me if I wanted to come and play Legion baseball with him in St. Joe. I had no idea what to expect, but thriving on his acceptance and all the his friends acceptance, at 14 years old I jumped out of that bed and asked for a uniform. I didn’t play that day, but I did a few games going forward. I was successful, too. I could throw hard, and I found a niche. More importantly, to my mind, I found someone who liked me for something. I had something they wanted, so I was beneficial. Initially, I was just a body, but I became an asset as I began to be successful for the team even at a young age.

This stands true in our lives now. For the most part, everyone in our lives only wants something from us because it benefits them. I’m not knocking my brother here, because I really was just a body that was needed to fill in – but that motivation to be accepted got my ass into gear. Was it the right thing to do? I dunno, but I did it and I was good. Maybe thats where leadership comes into play. If leadership is finding those around you that make you better, then I may have a tilted/slanted view of what exactly leadership is. But, its not wrong. He, a person of respect in my life, asked me to do something that I thought would allow me to gain status; so, I did it. Just so happens, I was good at it. Call me immature for succumbing to the demands of my hero, but I think anyone at that age would have. What is most beneficial is what I learned going forward.

Two things:

(1) Motivation/desire

(2) How it affects you

(1) Motivation/desire:

I was a fat kid. I ate everything, I didn’t do it because I was depressed or something deep like that, no. I ate because it gave me status. I was the kid “that ate everything” so people cooked for me! I mean, COOKED. I had family members preparing meals especially for me because I was coming over. But, looking back I realize that the mentality was “soft” it was something everyone could get behind. Everyone loves the fat kid. I’m harmless, right? I giggle, and jiggle, and eat. But there in lies my motivation, my desire. My desire to be something different. I’m not that soft child. My mind is made of hard stones and staples on a bed of nails. Mentally, there are times when I know I am smarter than a given situation yet I revert back to those days of being soft and comfortable. It’s taken a couple years, but I’m ready to say that I’ve learned how to break that “softness” and start to grip and flex the things that I’m able to control.

Sometimes that softness creeps. I’ll come to a situation that needs a difficult decision and what happens? My mind reverts back to my first stages of training – “what is the easiest way out of this?” That could mean walking on a long run, or taking off a weighted vest in a middle of a workout. I find a personal way to make a difficult situation less difficult. The question I’m willing to ask myself at this point is, “How can I break that fat kid?” Maybe I’ve become who I hate. A bully. I was never really bullied growing up, but I was told about my shortcomings. Nonetheless, I found motivation in other peoples opinions and my own perception of myself. Thats where the motivation and desire comes from. I want to be accepted, I want to be liked. But, by who? As we grow old, we lose more and more people in our lives. Who am I trying to impress? No one gives a shit anymore. Everyone cares about themselves. What you look like in the mirror looks NOTHING like the person being seen on Facebook or Instagram 12 minutes later (prep time for photoshopping). They’ll look at it, and go “Would I fuck that, yes or no?” And then they decide if they’ll like it or not. And, full disclaimer, if its a dog then its an automatic “Like”.

My motivation is not single to this childhood insecurity. But, there are things that come from those developmental stages that teach us and sculpt us into the people we are today. I’m not here because of being fat. I’m not here because my brother and his friends secluded me. I’m here because there is someone that is affected by this stuff….someone that doesn’t want to talk about it. I’m here for them. I’m here to learn, to train, to be everything I needed even when I didn’t know that I needed them.

(2) How it affects you

Pretty much already said it. I dont want to be looked as a charity case or a cry baby because I went through the same pre-puberty and puberty shit that everyone else went through. I’m harder than that. What I do want you to learn is several layers. Being humble is huge. If you had some shit that you’re still carrying, get rid of it. Thats someone else’s layer – get rid of it, get out. You aren’t entitled to that bullshit, so bounce. Unless you have something in there to salvage that shit, get rid of it. Why hang on to that stuff if all it does is bring you down? You have the opportunity to free yourself of everything other than the things you love, why not do it? Live the life you think is the best and you’ll be happy. But, if those things are beneficial to your happiness and motivation; then hang on to the morsels. But, just the tips. Save the rest for your own satisfaction.

The other layer is honesty. Be real with yourself. Okay, I’ll be frank and if you’re weak and/or fleet of foot then stop reading and I’ll see you next week. Not feeling your best at work/putting out the best numbers? Well, you’re probably slacking and that’s your fault. Wife not having sex with you and citing “too tired,” as a common defense – YOUR FAULT. Figure it out. I can’t tell you what your wife wants – you married her. You should know, or at least pull some shit out of your trick bag to get your ass laid. Nonetheless, quit blaming this on her – she’s hot to everyone else, you’ve just been with her long enough to do dumb shit. Don’t do dumb shit. Be honest with yourself and the things that you haven’t been keeping up with for four, eight, twelve, twenty plus years.

I have a last layer that I want to talk about but I think I’ve done a lot of discussion for tonight. I’m glad to be back in the typing world, and I hope that something I said will one day tink around in someone’s head to the point that it cant be ignored.

Anyway,

Jake.

Slight[of]Hand Leadership

My wife is a “Goodwill Hunter”.  The other day, she came home with a book from one of the local Goodwill Stores.  It is titled, “Leadership,” very simple.  Very easy to read.  It was a university book somewhere, and must have been very seldom used; I fell like I was cracking it open for the first time.  I popped it open when she got home, and I immediately got the sense of the “flow” of the book.  Its a collection of historical pieces of work which are all written by well known authors, leaders, and historical figures.  The pieces of work highlight different perspectives on, you guessed it, “Leadership”.

Confucious, Plato, Thomas Hobbes, John Locke, Freud, Martin Luther King Jr.; these are just several of the people who are featured in the book.  Being in a position of authority with my job, I became very intrigued by learning more and more about this book.  Today, I sat down with it and read the first excerpt.  This reading was written by Lao Tsu and is extracted from Tao Te Ching, which was written in circa 6th century BC.

As stated by the author of the “Leadership” book, Barbara Kellerman, Lao Tsu provides readers the perspective that leadership should be “hands off”.  Lao Tsu writes, “Why is the sea king of a thousand streams? Because it lies below them.  That is why it is the king of a thousand streams.”  Although abstract (much like many other parts of Tao Te Ching), it spoke to me. The sea governs worldly waters, it makes up the majority of our Earth.  The rivers and streams all flow to the sea.  They gravitate towards it’s power.  However, the sea does not force its power upon the rivers and streams.

This is a prime example of a leader who is humble, yet powerful.  A person who is able to bear the weaknesses of their followers is a true leader.  That leader is able to stand firm in times of adversity and allow the people to self-govern themselves.  There is no need for the leader to exercise strength in delegation, or force anyone into their way of thinking.  The followers KNOW that the leader is their leader, and they gravitate towards the comfort in knowing that something bigger is watching over them; without the leader actually having to say it.  Now, this is obviously ONE school of thought.  There are other ways to govern and lead, everyone knows that.  But, this is definitely a perspective to consider when taking a leadership role; or, inheriting one.

Lao Tsu also discusses the traits of a leader who has adopted the “hands off” mentality. It is written that the depth of these leaders’ knowledge is “unfathomable”.  Since it is unfathomable, we can only describe their appearance.  He describes these leaders as being watchful, alert, courteous, yielding, simple, hollow, and opaque.  Some may argue that this is too passive – which Kellerman addresses as being a typical “western culture” perspective.  We are used to having a leader stand up, shout, express, and explain.  But a leader who is watchful, alert, and courteous ALLOWS his/her followers to be themselves; and, when they fall off track – maybe that’s when you jump in.  Being watchful means standing back and observing.  Being courteous means allowing the followers to make their own mistakes or success, and allowing them to learn from it.  Being yielding allows makes you more accommodating to their needs and demands, but not so much that you are frail or your leadership is perceived as weak.  Being simple is pretty self explanatory; just let your followers BE themselves and everything will take care of itself.

Lao states, “When actions are performed without unnecessary speech, people say, ‘We did it!”  This is the root of this leadership perspective.  The followers are given an opportunity to express themselves through their work without the touch of an overpowering figure.  A true leader stands back and is fulfilled by the joy experienced by the followers under his/her power.

Coaching is a perfect example of this mindset.  A coach does not play the game.  A coach simply sets a lineup or game-plan, and allows the players to go out and perform the way they know how.  Oftentimes these coaches are commonly referred to as a “player’s coach”.  The coach does not force the players to play a certain way; he/she does not yell at them during drills or games in which they are trying their hardest.  He/she does not press the players into anything they are uncomfortable doing.  The players should trust the coach and the tactics laid out by the practice plan, or game-plan.  When everyone buys into the fact that the coach KNOWS how to play the game or what drills to perform to perfect their skill, then success will be imminent. Sometimes players DO need direction, which encapsulates a different perspective that will be addressed at a later time.  But, for the most part – lead by example, and trust will follow.

Coach Joe Maddon of the Chicago Cubs is a perfect example.  I have never seen Joe yell at his players.  I’ve heard numerous stories about allowing the players to be themselves when on the field and when not on the field.  He takes this “hands off” approach, and at first, guys seemed unsure about “why”.  Is it a trick to get us to do something wrong and then violate us later?  Is it passive way of obtaining recognition for someone else’s success?  No.  He recognizes that he is not the superstar.  The players are.  He is below the players, much like the sea is below the rivers and streams.  It is apparent that his players respect him as a leader because they are allowed to be themselves, perform to the best of their abilities and be successful.

A Winner’s Mindset

Last night I watched the college baseball team that I used to play for get absolutely slaughtered by the #1 ranked team in the county.  The final score was 22-7; you’d think it was a football game if someone had told you that on the street.  It was comical at times.  I say comical because baseball is unfair and unforgiving, and because I’ve been there before. Sometime all you can do is shrug your shoulders and go, “I dunno…” That’s baseball.  Sometimes things fall your way, sometimes they don’t.  Sometimes mother nature decides the morning of your game to blow the wind at 23MPH out to center field.  Sometimes physics takes over and the ball that the short-stop threw from the hole towards first base took an unexpected cut because the ball was unexpectedly dented.  Maybe the umpire is hungover.  Bottom-line is, there are a lot of contributing circumstances that dictate parts of baseball.  But, one thing doesn’t change regardless of baseball’s unfair, brutal nature and that’s the winning attitude that is necessary to compete.  But, baseball is not the only aspect of life that requires a winning attitude; it’s just my best example at the moment and motivation for this article.  There is one perspective of a winning mindset that can be applied to every aspect of life.

Winners expect to win.  And when they don’t, don’t mistake a winner’s disappointment with self-pity.  Its simply just disappointment because that winner expected something, and the result was not what they expected.  Kind of like when you order something in the mail, and you’re given a estimated delivery date.  You expect your gift to come in the mail on a specific date so you watch and watch and put in work to make sure its secured safely.  But, then you find out that its lost in the mail, or shipping is delay.  You may be pissed, or you may just be upset.  But, that’s okay, because you may get the gift tomorrow.  So, you get over it pretty quick.  That’s the most elementary example of a winner’s mindset.  Winners expect a positive result, and when they don’t achieve that result, they focus on  how to achieve that positive result in the future by analyzing what went wrong, how to adjust, and how to implement the new plan.

Winners expect to win.  Don’t mistake this for arrogance.  Don’t mistake it for over-confidence.  It’s just a high self-standard that winners hold themselves to.  Many times winners get a bad rap for being arrogant, mouthy, over-confident, and flamboyant.  Yes, some people who win are those things listed above; and they are not winners.  Yeah, in the stats column they win…but those are just numbers.   A winner doesn’t need to tell anyone that they won because they aren’t surprised.  They expected it.  Sure, in sports there are times for celebration; but, that celebration is the entertainment part of the show – its not part of winning.

Here’s an example that will help prove my point.  Take Chad Johnson (I refuse to call him by his now “legal” last name), a retired NFL wide-receiver.  He won football games.  He put up amazing statistics.  When he scored a touchdown, you were on the edge of your seat to find out what kind of celebration he would show us next.  Autographing the football in the endzone?  Proposing to a cheerleader?  Whatever it was, it was entertaining.  He had to show everyone that he just scored, that he won that play and maybe the game.  Barry Sanders, a retired NFL running-back, also won games and posted amazing statistics.  He was the all-time leading rusher for the Detroit Lions.  When he scored a touchdown, guess what he did?  He walked the ball over to the referee.  Maybe he jogged it over.  Then he thanked his teammates.  That shows me that he expected to be in the end-zone.  He doesn’t need to show anyone what he just did.  He was already thinking about either what could have gone wrong during the amazing play just so he’s prepared for the next trip.  He’s thinking about the next time he’s given an opportunity to be in the end-zone because he expects to be; he’s not done.

In today’s society, we’ve encountered a paradigm shift that favors participation.  Sure, this is more prevalent in youth sports and I understand the reason for it.  Its encouraging students, young athletes, and all children to participate in something.  Why not participate in something when you know you’ll be rewarded for doing it?  I would want to hang out on a grass field with some friends and maybe kick the ball when it came to me too if it meant mom was going to buy me McDonald’s after the game in exchange for my participation ribbon!  I get it.  But what is it really teaching?  The reality is, its teaching complacency.  We are commending “just showing up.”  How about raising the standard and giving yourself an opportunity to feel accomplished at a different level; the level of a winner in competition.

There are risks that come with expecting to win.  And, I think these risks scare people away from competition.  You risk losing.  You risk disappointment.  But, like I said before – a true winner knows how to bounce back.  That’s winning.  If you feel self-pity and doubt, you aren’t feeding your “winning wolf” inside of you.  You are nurturing the puppy inside of you that begs to be nursed.   If you are brave enough to take the step into a winning mindset and put it all on the line because you expect to win, that winning wolf will grow.  It will grow into a ferocious beast that is fueled by your desire to be successful.  Its important to incorporate humbleness and humility into your winning mindset, though.  I was told a quote at a very young age, “Modest in victory, gracious in defeat” and I carry that with me through life.

The baseball team I mentioned at the beginning of this article expected to beat the #1 team in the country.  I know this to be true because I played for that team/school, and we played that #1 team in the country before.  People say we walked on the field with a “swagger” but we never saw it.  We just expected to beat the best, because we felt that we could compete with the best and we were the best.  We got beat too, but after we got beat, we went 51-1 over the next 52 games – complete with a 32 game win streak.  We expected to win.  I know those boys I watched last night will bounce back.  I know they expect to win.  And when their season is over, their high self-expectations will carry over to other aspects of their life.  Trust me.

Webster’s Dictionary has a definition of winning.  But winning does not define the person. The person defines winning based on their perspective before competition, and their response after.  When you expect to win, you are brave in putting everything you have into a specific task.  Expect the best from yourself.  You’ll know if you don’t give it your best; and, that’s okay.  Just adjust, adapt, and apply your plan to better your performance the next time.  Then, expect to win again.

Expect to win.  Feed your “winning wolf.”

 

 

The 3 Most Awkward Moments Of My Life: Part 1

I enjoy telling stories.  I like seeing people’s faces when I get to the most exciting part, or when I’ve really got them hooked on the flow of the story.  It’s fun to see if I can get people to feel exactly how I felt at the time something happened to me.  Sometimes I’m able, other times, people just listen and go about their day.  But, there are several stories that I tell that are guaranteed to grab you by the back of the neck and confuse you a little bit.

When I was in college, I commonly referred to this “bit” as “The Three Most Awkward Moments Of My Life”.  Often, I’d tell the story when it was most appropriate – sitting around a bonfire, sharing a couple beers; where-ever it was, I told it the same every time.  Obviously, I cant give mannerisms in writing.  But those are pretty important.  Regardless, take a read and next time you see me and we have a chance to talk about this story – ask me to tell it.

The first story took place when I was in high school.  It was my sophomore year, and late September.  Home-coming was on Friday night, and my senior class of 2008 was scheduled to head to one of my classmates houses to work on our home-coming float.  The house had large detached garage, which was where we were working on the float.  The father of my classmate owned a ton of property, Larry was his name.  Larry had lots of tools, large equipment, and machinery.  We met up on the Sunday afternoon before home-coming week.  This way we could work on the float all week long until Friday night when it was time to put on the show during the parade.  Anyways, the home-coming theme on that particular year was “horror movies.”  So, we chose to portray some type of scene from “Silence of the Lambs.”  We were playing a school called the “lancers,”so “Silence of the Lancers” rolled well off the tongue.  We worked on the float every night of the week until Thursday night when we finally started to put together the finishing touches.  We had our character, Hannibal Lector, who was played by my best friend, Reggie.  He was “hosting” a dinner on the float which was attended by several of my classmates wearing our school colors and football uniforms, and they were eating “lancer” body parts.  Clever.

As we put together the whole float, we realized that our Hannibal Lector was just going to be standing there in a strait jacket, wearing his muzzle-mask.  There appeared to be something missing.  Reggie and I stood there with about 35 of my classmates, a few teachers, and parents who were sponsoring us in the garage.  We all stood in the large garage staring at float wondering how we could make the float just a little more realistic.  It was silent, when someone turned to the group and suggested, “What if we put Hannibal Lector on a two-wheeled cart, like he was wheeled in to the dinner?”  Everyone pondered for a minute, and looked at each other.  Slowly, it became a very good idea. Everyone started to agree, “Yeah, yeah…a two-wheel cart, yeah…”  Nodding their heads, “Yeah, lets do that…two-wheeled cart.”  As we were all envisioning the image becoming increasingly excited over this inanimate object, someone brought us back to reality and had to be debbie-downer.  The minor excitement died down a little and someone said, “But, we dont have a two-wheeled cart…”  You could feel the room really deflate.  Everyone let out a “sigh” and everyone seemed crushed that the last finishing touch was no longer.  Everyone looked at each other and searched for an answer.  All 35 of us were quiet yet again, when all the sudden Larry piped up as he stood in the middle of the room right in front of everyone.  It was quiet when Larry very casually announced to all of us in the garage, “Well…I have a two-wheeled cart.”

Reggie and I stood there for a second, and thought to ourselves, “Hmph. Cool. Great.”  But then we noticed this “buzz” around the room.  People were looking at each other whispering the words, “he’s got a two-wheeled cart,” to each other.  Then they’d turn to another person, “didju hear that? He’s got one…” I thought it was odd because it really wasn’t that big of a deal.  But then this “buzz” increased into a tidal wave of excitement.  The whole room started to get very excited by the fact that we now have a two-wheeled cart made available to us, thanks to Larry.  People started to “high-five” each other, and smile like we had just won a hockey game.  Reggie and I looked at each other, both of us thinking the same thing, “The hell is going on?”  It got weirder.

The wave that the room was experiencing turned into a full-on celebration about this two-wheeled cart!  People stated to chant “TWO WHEELED CART! TWO WHEELED CART!” They were jumping up and down, high-fiving, hugging, laughing and cheering.  Reggie and I were completely blown away.  “What the hell is going on!?”  Ill never forget the look on his face.  He looked at me with this confused smile on his face and said, “Are they cheering for the two-wheel cart!? What the..!?”  There was no mistaking that they were.  I was surprised no one was crying in joy yet, it was that hype of a celebration for this cart.  Larry received no recognition for having the two-wheeled cart.  He just stood there with just as a confused look on his face like my friend and I as people pranced and danced around him.

Slowly, the celebration dissipated, and everyone went on with their duties.  Some went back to painting, some ordering food, some writing banners.  Larry walked over to closet, grabbed the cart, and rolled it to the corner.  No one noticed.  It was like the celebration never even happened.  Again, Reggie and I looked at each other, “WHAT THE HELL IS GOING ON?”  For some reason, no one in the celebration or in the garage that day really remembers the celebration besides me and Reggie.  Granted, I’ve only shared this story with several people that were there; so, it’s possible someone out there thought it was just as awkward as we thought.

A full-on celebration.  Over a two-wheeled cart.

You can’t write this stuff.

Pitching: Poetic Violence

Hall of Fame pitcher and three-time Cy Young winner Sandy Koufax once said, “Pitching is the art of instilling fear.”  I love these words.  Sandy’s career ended in 1966, 23 years before I was born.  “The Left Arm of God” is probably less known for his pitching mentality and probably more for his performance on the bump.  Granted, I wasn’t alive at the time that Sandy threw; so, maybe I’m wrong and he was, in fact, better known for how he thought, rather than how he spun a baseball.  I doubt it, since the mental side of sports is sometimes overshadowed by tangible statistics.  I prefer the mental side.

At any rate, I read Sandy’s quote for the first time ever today.  I wish I would’ve known that quote when I was pitching, but I’m glad I know it now.  Quick backstory: God blessed me with a rubber right arm and a fluid body.  That body combination meant one of two things; magician, or pitcher.  I chose sports and God moved my baseball in all sorts of weird directions when I held it like a circle-change and in my senior year, he sent some angels from the outfield to give me a speed burst and moved my fastball to 91MPH.  I am grateful for my God-given baseball talent because it paid for several years of college, it strengthened my mind for my career, and most importantly when my baseball career was over, I went searching for direction in my life…and my beautiful wife found me and yanked me in.  She’s my #1, my rock and if she were to watch me play, I know she would’ve been my biggest fan.

Baseball and pitching are my passion, outside of my faith, wife and family.  I don’t know everything about baseball, but I know what I know right now and I want to know more in the future.  And it works for me.  I love to teach, coach, and share my knowledge with those who are willing to learn.  I feel as though these talents given to me by God are an opportunity to challenge, or inspire a younger pitcher on the field, or a leader in the community.

I was provided an opportunity to play for a high caliber college program, and I learned a helluvalot about baseball.  The program was high caliber, not me.  But, there is one thing that I learned/developed on my own; “pitching mentality.” My dad always preached “mental toughness” to me and my brother.  This may have been looked at as “aggressive” had other high school families and parents heard the words “mental toughness.”.  Its aggressive to those who don’t know us; but those who do know us know that we’re much deeper than that.

Mental toughness is more than just “powering through adversity” its not “just getting by…”  Mental toughness about optimism, its about management, its about balance, its about forecast, and challenge.  Baseball and pitching is the ultimate test in sports of mental toughness – eh, golf is pretty close.  But where do Sandy’s quote about instilling fear, and mental toughness collide?

This is simply my opinion.  I love Sandy’s quote, because that’s how I think about pitching.  Pitching is beautiful violence in motion.  Art highlights beauty; violence instills fear.  Violence in art can be the angry, lone-wolf college student in their studio apartment throwing paint on a canvas while listening to deafening music just to look at that canvas and see a masterpiece; or, a massacre, depending on how you think you performed.  What other sport requires an athlete to put power, strength, and kinetics into a motion and then trust physics and trust that your skills+physics are better than your opponents?

Actually, now that I said that…it sounds like EVERY SPORT EVER, but this is my blog, and I’m a tad impartial to baseball 🙂

Put this in your pipe: I love the Cubs, and I had the opportunity to watch the 2015 Cy Young Award Winner, Jake Arrieta, last year.  I watched, or listened, to every game he pitched in last year.  The guy is incredible.   I studied him like he was a science project.  He is a great representation of what I believe a pitcher should be.  Violent, yet elegant.  They say that if Babe Ruth had music put to his career, it would be bass drums; Koufax’s would have violins.  Arrieta’s would be a Cello; the perfect combination of deep bass mixed with complex, high tones.  Spooky.

Arrieta’s windup is ominous and intense; it foreshadows an explosion.  And you’re not let down.  That explosion produces a 5.25oz ball of leather and lace on a crash course with anything Jake purposefully intended on being in its way complete with a recoiling body behind it like a .50 caliber turret.  Click, click, boom.  The art; that body has no affect on that baseball anymore.  The baseball is a precision bullet en-route to its specified and designated target.  Sure, gravity takes over, but Arrieta’s “violent arts” prior to delivery are most important to the ball’s destination.  Believe me, hes a intelligent creature and took gravity’s downward 9.8 meters per second Earth-ward pressure into account.  All pitcher’s do.  What else didn’t we notice, though?

Arrieta’s ability to keep his balance and smoothly move his body through a very small space is beautiful.  The torque and velocity that his body is about to experience is like a NASCAR driver in a crash – they don’t move that much nowadays, though.  His hips and shoulders are like a rubber-band being stretched to the absolute max, the anticipation builds and finally its let go and shot across the room with immediate force.  Its quaint, but piercing.  His head is focused on the target, the catcher’s glove, and its led directly into it even from 60ft 6in away like raging bull.  Direct with intent.  The arm/hand is put in the EXACT same slot that it was put in the pitch before; regardless if the pitch was a  cutter,  4 seam fastball, or 12-6 curve.  Consistent, and purposeful.  A perfect concoction of violence, and art.

After that, the pitch is on its own.  Everything prior to that point was the artist creating his own masterpiece.  Now its trust and faith.   But like a boxer, pitchers must compress all of their power into one explosive blow.  Moreover, boxers and pitchers are expected to throw upwards of 90+ punches/pitches per fight/game (unless your a reliever or a heavyweight boxer), so endurance is important.  Being violent in your delivery only takes you so far, though.  Accuracy and consistency is just as important.  I think you get the point; there are a lot of things that go into pitching a baseball to instill fear in a hitter.

How many times have you walked through a downtown area and observed a “piece of art” that is just “a face on a metal plate”?  Or, “a bench with a unique twist” on a downtown sidewalk?  Have you ever thought, “how is that art?”  Well, that’s why pitching is considered an art; its under-appreciated, like art.  Now, I’m no art major, but I know how it feels to come into a game with one out and the tying run on third base; strikeout the first hitter on one of your proudest pitches, and then get the next batter to ground out on the same exact pitch.  THAT’S artwork.  Your team may not go on to win the game, but you’ve survived them long enough to push forward, and you are damn proud of your work.

Here is where the mental toughness and Sandy’s “fear” come into play.

We’ll start here: Who would you want on your team?  The crazy psycho who says, “I’m going to eat everyone alive and beat everyone myself.”  Or, the unsure pacifist who says, “I don’t know how I’ll approach my opponents today…” Frankly, they’re both not optimal.  One seems reckless and the other seems unambitious.  Hey, I’m sure you could take something from at least one of them.  But, if I had to answer – I’ll take the psycho in competition.  I don’t have to be his friend, but at least he has a plan and EXPECTS success.  Honestly, it would depend on how they prepare and perform, but regardless, that “winner mentality” is already apparent in the “psycho” character.  In my experience, winners scare losers.  Losers envy the winner, and envy hardens into hate, and hate is fueled by fear.  Therefore, losers are scared.  Thanks for that one, Yoda.   Pitchers have the ability to win, which arms them with “fear bullets” (aka. a perfectly placed fastball).

The “winner mentality” comes with mental toughness.  When I’m being beat on the scoreboard, I know I’ll come back.  That’s mental toughness.  When I’m smoked physically, I’ll prepare my body to be ready for the next pitch, inning, or outing.  That’s mental toughness.  When I’m tempted by something that would compromise my training, yet I refrain, that’s mental toughness.  When the opposition scores a run off me in the first inning, and then I walk a guy, and then my defense commits and error, and then another (“boots come in pairs”) and I get pulled – my mental toughness is going to be tested.  Mental toughness is a muscle, it needs to be worked out; adversity is just mental toughness’s workout plan.  Its time to get stronger and come back the next pitch, the next inning, the next day, the next start, the next appearance, ready to identify and test what went wrong and learn from it.

Pitching is an art.  An opportunity to be violent, but poetic.  Its a direct reflection of your deepest personality and a deep look into your character and soul.  Your windup and delivery are your penmanship; the pitch landing in the catcher’s glove after being swung-on-and-missed is the signature.  As a pitcher, you gotta be mentally tough with a splash of crazy.  I’d rather the hitter be terrified of me than him digging in waiting to send my paper plane origami into orbit.

Let your pitching do the screaming.  Pitch with a purpose.  Scare the hitter into swinging at your mistakes.  Be aggressive.  But remember, aggression isn’t about yelling at your teammates on the diamond, or beating up the Gatorade cooler after a bad inning.  Its about punishing the strike-zone with your best pitches and keeping hitter #1-9 guessing what type of nasty your going to serve them next.

Darth Vader would be an awesome pitcher…

Grab A Cup

Welcome to the “Grab A Cup” Blog! Before I jump into what you can expect while reading this blog, here’s a story on “why” this blog is named what its named “Grab A Cup.”  A few years ago, I started my career as a law enforcement officer.  I grew close to the other officers on my squad/rotation.  Even the ones that worked for different agencies.  We all worked the midnight shift, we were all away from our wives/girlfriends/fiances/children/homes when everyone else in the world was sleeping in their warm beds or staying up late to catch the 2AM broadcast of SportsCenter.  Believe me, all of us wanted to be in their shoes.  Instead, from about 6PM on any given night until about 3AM the next morning, we were charging under the the moonlight.  We’d respond to the DOA (or “DRT” as we call it), the domestics, the car crashes, arrest drunk drivers, find fugitives, etc.  We’re busy.

So one night a few summers ago, one of the officers who worked for a different agency messaged me on a “in car, instant messaging” system.  All he said was, “0300 we grabbing a cup.”  Well, I was in the median and typing a report for smashed mailbox I had just investigated and I read his message and just stared at the screen; “….Huh? Grabbing a cup?” Now, I knew the officer pretty well, but I wasn’t best friends with him.  So, I felt like the appropriate response would be to act like I never got the message; plausible deniability.  My shift got over, I went home.  The next night I got into work, and the officer that told me he was “grabbing a cup” messaged me again.  He said, “Hey! How come you didn’t come grab a cup last night?” I wanted to crawl in a hole, I figured it wasn’t that big of a deal!

It kinda is for reasons you don’t truly realize right off the bat.

I replied, told him I must have missed his message; lie, I know.  Feeling guilty, I asked a few more questions.  I took a shot in the dark; since he said, “we” in the original invite, I assumed there were other officer’s invited.  So, I asked who was all there.  He rattled of 4 or 5 names, one of them being an officer in my own agency.  Then I thought, “Oh, I think he means, ‘grab a cup of coffee’…” Not that difficult, really.  Catching on, I said, “Okay, count me in for tonight.”  Sure enough, come 0230, I got a message.  This time from a different officer/different agency; “hey, come grab a cup at Main/State.”  Given a location, I headed that way.  I walked into the 24 hour gas station.  Five officers were all standing towards the back of the store.  Naturally, all their eyes checked who just walked through the door.  I grabbed an empty Styrofoam cup and filled it with some coffee.  Strolled over to all the officers and found a ledge to lean against.

They were already deep in conversation about something happening within their department.  I listened.  Again, I was acquainted with these guys, but I didn’t know them well enough to jump in and provide my 2 cents.   The conversation changed 3 or 4 times while I stood there with them.  It went from “venting about command” to “have you seen that new show on HBO, yet?” to “Did you see who the Tigers and Cubs traded last night?” all the way to “have any of your wives used this program for recipes before?”  It was pretty dynamic.  The conversations were deep, laced with humor, but short enough to be had over the time it takes to drink a cup of coffee.  When the coffee in the cup ran out, it was time to head back out on patrol.  But, over the 15-20 minutes we stood there sharing our cup of coffee, we exchanged a little bit about ourselves with each other.  They quickly learned that I was a die hard Cubs fan, I enjoy all sports, movies, and mostly, throwing in quick-funny jabs at each other.

I worked with those guys for a little over a year and a half.  And a few of them have become my best friends.  Hell, several of them were there with me on my wedding day.  Almost every night we worked, all it took was for someone take charge to say, “hey, lets grab a cup.”  Some nights someone couldn’t make it, “Nah, gotta head home early tonight, kids are sick.” or “Cant tonight, man, I gotta get this report done.” But most of the time, we always found time for each other.  Its an opportunity to pick each others minds about how they handled a situation on duty.  We discussed life experiences and learned each other’s morals and values.  We talked sports, movies, and shared pictures and laughed at each other from a fuzzy Saturday night out.  When we got back out on patrol, it was like we just had a mini night out with a bunch of friends – minus the beer, add the coffee.  Now, the meeting for coffee was simply a chance to do something together that didn’t feel like work.  For the most part, all of us same guys were responding to the same call – THATS where the silent bonding occurred.  Believe me, you become a lot closer to someone when you’re faced with a situation together involving someone and a knife or a gun.  When you’re chasing someone through backyards, over cars, and finally they’re caught by you and your partner at the same time and you successfully put them in custody…it makes the conversation at the coffee meeting a lot cooler.  They’re family with guns.

For now, I can’t meet with those guys.  Things have changed a bit in our own lives, but we still keep up.  I learned about the camaraderie as a LEO, and moreover, how important it is to never take yourself too seriously.  So, this blog FINALLY gives me a forum to write.  I’ve been writing for a while, but in Word Processing.  This is actually pretty cool.  A nice release.  I plan to discuss anything you would when you grab a cup of coffee with a friend.  Todays culture, todays sports, the Cubs, Notre Dame Football, my life experiences, my current situations, my faith, my family, whatever comes to mind as I sit and listen to Zach Brown Band and drink my Dunkin Donuts Keurig Coffee.

So, grab a cup and hang out for a bit if you want.

And remember, don’t take life too seriously.  None of us get out alive anyway.