Keepin my head high

Ok.  So I had my first pitching start last night with the new team.  Firstly, they are a very nice bunch of guy s.  I don't mean that in the Leo Durocher sense of the phrase.  They're all nice guys, truly.

Now, I learned a really valuable  lesson from this start.

Gotta believe in yourself.
I pitched 2 1/3 innings.  Yep.  I didn't get rocked.  I made mistakes that they capitalized on, certainly.   My curveball hung, my mechanics were all off (my landing foot was way on the right side of the mound:  yep; I'm a righty...) and this was my first start, my first pitch this entire season.  I didn't feel awesome, but I'm not hurtin' today.  I feel pretty good, actually.  Despite giving up something like 6 runs in those innings (maybe 1 or 2 were earned)  I really had to dig deep.  I had to find a way through the crap.

I struck out 1 and hit 2, walked 2 and well, you get the idea.

This was not my finest moments on the mound (last years 16 2/3 consecutive innings, and I mean I pitched both games of a double header giving up 0 runs in 7 2/3 innings vs. the team that would go on to win the championship).  It was messy.  It was actually bloody ( my new cleats messed up my right middle toe).  And it was sloppy (my guess on the error total was somewhere around 12).  I also hit the opposing pitcher.  The nice thing was to help him.  I hit him just below the right knee (he's a lefty) on the insertion of the peronnal / gastroc area.  I helped him through it with a little massage on the calf which took off some of the pressure.  I don't envy the soreness he had today.  This is for fun.  Who wants' to watch a guy get hurt, much less be the guy who caused the pain?  I'm just sayin'

But through it all, I didn't pitch poorly.  I got key ground balls.  I made some pitches.  I had some fun when I wasn't terrified of the next possible problem.

I had to believe in myself.  When I started chattering back to the ump about strikes and balls, well, my manager took me out.  And that's when my character was really tested. 

I wanted to smash something.  I wanted to throw something.  But I couldn't.  These guys didn't need to see me outburst.  And I'm not 10 years old anymore.  So why would I let my temper get the best of me? 

I didn't.  I believed in myself.  I believed that I was better than acting like that.  When the fellas came off the field, I greeted each of them and bumped them.  My message:  Thanks for picking me up.  let's go get these guys.  I'm part of the team, despite not getting the results that I wanted. 

I believed in myself.