The Day I Almost Quit

Growing up, baseball was everything to me. Or so I thought. 

I do not remember the exact point in which I started playing, because I was too young to remember. I do know that I would wear a baseball hat in my crib, I’ve seen the pictures to prove it. One time, at around three or four years old, I snuck out of a hotel room and wandered off down a beach, alone. I was spotted a handful of minutes later, by frantic parents, only because they could see my baseball hat in the distance.

I began t-ball, like many others, at 5-years-old and my playing career lasted through the end of my high school days. Between those two points, I played the game for countless hours. Outside of going to work, I can’t think of anything I have done more in life than play baseball, even though I haven’t played in over 20 years at this point. Time flies.

For most of that time, I loved it. I looked forward to getting outside in the brutal Florida sunshine and improving my skills. I looked forward to the competition and loved trying to be the best. If I wasn’t in school, you could likely find me on the diamond. I played it with my friends, my enemies, and my father. I learned a lot from the game, lessons that you can only get through sports.

But there was one day where it almost came to an end. I was close to quitting the thing that I loved most.

I was in 10th grade, with no car, at the time and therefore was still being driven to my games by other people. This particular day, it was my mother’s turn. On the way to the game, her car broke down. This was before cell phones rose in popularity, or affordability, so it wasn’t as easy as placing a call to a teammate to scoop me up. I was scared I was going to be late and tardiness is a thing I dread, even to this day. Something hit me and I just felt like this was it, this was the day. Previously unseen emotions started to flood over me and I just wanted to give up on the sport. I figured if I was going to be late, if even for only this one game, I may as well quit. I was suddenly feeling burnt out on the game, due to all those countless hours mentioned earlier.

But maybe there was more to it. Perhaps I was burnt out on life, as the previous couple of years had not been easy on me. Family stuff. Maybe I thought that the car breaking down was some kind of sign, some kind of excuse just to let it all go. Perhaps it was, in fact, other things, not baseball, that was causing me to feel this way. 

When I close my eyes, I can still feel that feeling, I just can’t explain it in writing. I am sure we all have something similar. 

To be honest, I can’t remember what happened next. I don’t know how I made it to my game that night, but I did. I do not recall the outcome of the game, or how I played. But I played. I kept with the game that had brought me so much (including my beloved nickname: “Bump”). I finished out that 10th grade year and the following two years of high school. I was even named team captain my senior year and won the MVP trophy- something I had been working towards my whole life I suppose. That is something I am still proud of, the captaincy. 

I am glad I didn’t follow through with whatever that feeling was, that feeling that existed on that lone day, for whatever reason. I would have regretted that decision up until this day. I would not have made, or kept, some of the best friends I still have. I would not have learned the lessons provided to me in my high school years. Honestly, I don’t know how my life would be different if I had quit that day, but it would be. If I did not have baseball, the game I love, those last two years of high school, I wouldn’t have had much else. Sometimes not having something to focus on can lead us in a bad direction. I am not sure what my focus would have been at that point.

Sometimes we have that moment, that seemingly little decision, that can impact our lives in a disproportionate way. Looking back on it, this was one of those moments for me. I made the right decision. 

Baseball. I am glad I stuck with it. I am glad it stuck with me.

-Houston Bailey (@BumpBailey)