Giving thanks to a blessed life; Living through a dream

In this life that we live in, getting caught up in everyday life is easy. To forget where you've come from, to lose track of past relationships, to not remember the footprints you left in past experiences - it's so easy to forget.

The holiday season allows for these types of things to be revisited. It's the time of year where one can catch up with others, share a laugh or two and recollect on the times that can still make you smile to this day. Thankfully, I have plenty of these experiences and through the grace of God, have come away with memories that will last a lifetime.

It's hard for me to not go back to that night in July two years ago. I've come to a realization that the bruises have disappeared and the scars have faded, but the experiences will never leave me. I have tried not to let the injury define me but have failed essentially, as it is something I cannot put away. The direction has been shifted to a positive one as the wisdom I have attained is for the betterment of a promising future.

Without the injury ever occurring in my life, I really have no idea as to where I would be. The degree of angst that I face at the moment may be non-existent and who really knows as to where I would be in terms of baseball. The answer will be forever unknown but one thing is for sure - I'm much happier now than I ever dreamed I would be years ago.

Here I am, giving thanks to the wonderful life I have been allowed to live, over two years since my accident. The times in the hospital following my surgeries saw some of the darkest times of my life but through it all, I have always tried to find the light. The light became really dark at times, almost unbearable to move any further but a goal of fulfilling a life of happiness has always kept me going.

It's brought me to finding a true love of my life.

As I approach my final semester of graduate school, I can only help but smile. I've seen the in and outs of the United States, traveled across the world to Australia, met the girl of my dreams and established a beautiful network of friends. I've recollected on a fantastic childhood and grown closer to a family that has always been by my side. Life is good, especially when I take a look back at the wonderful opportunities that God has blessed me with.

My walk with Jesus has been an issue that I've wanted to improve upon. At times I feel like I could never be closer, but in others, the path seems so distorted. The ground I walk on now is becoming stronger and hopefully I can continue to be guided in direction of the Lord. Religion is such a touchy subject nowadays and it's really hard to speak about it with others. The bottom line is to each is their own and nobodies stories will ever be the same. Everyone has been given their own walk and it is up to them to give thanks to the opportunities they have been given.

Giving thanks is an easy way to remember the happy times in your life. Try to remember the good times and bring back the fond memories you shared in making you who you are today. Nobody is perfect and making mistakes is easy, no matter how great you think you may be.

Thank you to all who have inspired me in my life and given me a chance when I was sure no other had existed. Thank you to those who opened your doors to me and treated me like a son. Thank you everyone who have never given up on me and helped me smile when things did not go my way. Thank you to you all who continue to inspire me and continue to show me that there is no limit in how far a dream can stretch.

You've allowed me to continue to pursue a life of happiness.

I'm one blessed kid that's for sure.

Chasing a Childhood Dream

Growing up, baseball never really seemed that difficult.

Working hard always seemed like a catch phrase as everything flowed ever so easily. Backyard games proved to be just the practice needed. Extra-curricular activity involved everything from four-square to capture the flag and basketball games to door-to-door lemonade stands. Baseball was fun and not anything less.

For what reason?

Because everything that revolved around it was just that.

As the journey grows and everything begins to speed up, things begin to morph into one another. Each passing season promotes a new sport that requires a different attention set. The competition begins to become stiffer and the work becomes harder and harder. Pitchers begin to throw on the same level and hitters are now evening out. The game is still fun but hard work is now the name of the game. This understanding, along with a genuine love of the game, are the wings that carry the player from JV to varsity and high school to college.

There are very few players that have the actual gift of playing professional baseball. Many walk right past how fortunate it is to play at such a stage. Regardless of which level, Independent ball to Triple-A, so many dream of being a Major League Baseball Player but for the majority, it's really just that - a childhood dream.

The vacuum rapidly sucks up the weak while the thirsty and unsatisfied continue the trek. The trek is long, hard and cold. It involves failures and disappointment at just about every street corner. The roller coaster ride is up to the individual to handle. A complete-game shutout one day sees the horror of an injured arm the next. A promotion to the starting rotation wears a string of bad outings and a demotion following it. It's the name of the game; something you must correctly handle in order to grow.

Then come the questions.

Is it worth the quest? How deep is your passion?

It's not overcoming being 5'2 as a freshman in high school or being cut from 4 different workouts, it's about the lessons you learned along the way.

It's not about being hit in the head by a line drive or struggling to find consistency when you need it the most, it's about the resiliency in your blood to keep going.

Is it your time to take a bow?

Or is this the beginning of a beautiful, eloquent and graceful encore?

This is Part One of "A Childhood Dream". Please stay tuned for Part Two.

A Change for the Better; El Paso to Chico

As I write today, I find myself at in Maryland and in the final stages of my two week vacation at home. It's been some time since I have posted and I understand that this layoff has left some with questions in regards to my whereabouts. Baseball, like it has for so much of my life, has been an active ingredient this spring and summer. There have been some success, some changes and some reflection.

Over the past four seasons, El Paso has been my home away from home. From my first appearance at Cohen Stadium and to where I am at now...It's been a good run and special four years as a member of the Diablos. I will never forget all the great people I have met and the friends that have quickly turned to family. It's been fun, some of the best times of my life. It's been a place where I've been able to learn and grow, a place where I've been able to establish who I am and where I want to go.

With everything good, though, things have to come to an end sometime. That time came just about two weeks ago as a fresh start has been something that I have needed. It was a decision that took some time to speak out about considering I had been throwing well and cherished several relationships I had with some of the guys on the team. Through it all, I will always be able look back and smile at the four years I had served in El Paso. The Sun City will always have a special place in my heart.

As to where I am at now, I leave for California on Monday afternoon being that I have signed on with the Chico Outlaws of the North American League. Chico, which is a town a few hours north of San Francisco, sits on the edge of the Sierras and is just a short distance from Reno and Sacramento. This move is something I'm looking forward to and I'm pretty stoked to be heading out to Northern California instead of the few other teams I had been speaking with in the South.

The second part of my professional career will jumpstart itself next Tuesday night as I'm scheduled to pitch the tailend of a doubleheader against Maui in Chico. I'm excited about the opportunity that lies ahead and know this I've been put in the moment by the grace of God. Now, it's just my job to make the most of it.

See you on the other side of the United States.

God Bless.

In Remembrance of Ray: My Brother on the Diamond

I close my eyes and I find myself laying down after a long day at the baseball field in Melbourne, Australia. It's late afternoon and I'm smiling. Although worn out, the recent good weather has me in good spirits and my recovery from a nagging injury has finally concluded. I retreat to my computer and check my email, comb over the scores from this weeks games and get on Facebook to hopefully catch up with a few friends from the United States. I laugh over some nonsense that one friend posts and grimace after seeing pictures of another's big weekend. I can remember looking on the screen as a message comes through. It says I need to call them as soon as possible and its about something important.

My smile soon fades and the feeling of a bad premonition begins to overcome my entire body. I make the call and I recall my hands sweaty, shaky and cold. The call connects and I hardly have a chance to say hello. I'll never forget what was said next.

Late last month, I recieved news that my childhood best friend, Raymond Eugene Rickett III, had died in our hometown of Ocean City, Md. Ray and I were inseparable as kids as we engaged in just about everything a normal set of children did. Days were never boring between us...drawing pictures of our favorite Baltimore Orioles players, playing the latest MLB video games, hour long surf sessions, or just having a catch in the street, Ray and I found ways to keep ourselves entertained. Hours turned into days, and days quickly turned into weeks.

Then there was Berlin Little League, the Phillies, and the All-Star teams. Ray and I began playing together on the 1994 Minor League team, the Berlin Red Sox. The team, who was coached by a man named Tito, was a fantastic group and it set the stage for what was to come for many years. After a few practice sessions before the season, Tito soon knew who his up-the-middle combination was to be.

In the stands stood "Big Ray" Rickett and "Big Dave" Whigham and the pair watched the magic as "Little Ray" nuzzled himself into the second baseman role and "Little Dave" accepted his role as the shortstop. Little did everyone know that we would be the pair that led the Red Sox to the Minor League championship then go on to win the first District 8 Title in Berlin Little League history as 10-year olds. The trend continued by posting the first undefeated 16-0 season in league history and then to a second-place showing in the title game in 1998 District 8 final.

As a kid, I never would have thought the two of us would ever grow apart. I imagined us being the best of friends forever, growing old in the same town and raising families next door to one another. I remember hearing every so often when I was younger about cherishing the friendships I had because once you grew up, things would chane. Even in middle school, Ray and I remained great friends as we shared many classes together and had crushes on the same sets of girls. It's times like these that chokes me up to this day, wondering where time has really gone.

Throughout my baseball career, I have had the opportunity of meeting many great people from a number of different backgrounds but the relationship I shared with Ray was just so much different. Whether it be the innocence of us just being kids or how we both came to love the game together, the bond we shared on the diamond was unlike any other. It was the thought that we could take on the world together that pushed us so hard and drove us so close. It's a feeling that through it all, can still bring a smile to my face.

The pain I feel today from Ray's death is something that holds great value to me. It's a feeling derived from the bonds that we shared, the childhood that we learned from, and most importantly, the friendship that we turned into a brotherhood. I plan on carrying Ray's legacy with me this summer and in all of my future endeavors in baseball. It kills me knowing so much time had passed since we had seen each other.

Through it all, its the memories and thoughts of our friendship that keep me going. Time most certainly heals wounds but the legacy of Ray is one that will be remembered forever. Forever in the hearts of the family he leaves behind, forever in the town that cherished him dearly, and forever in the veins of his friends that will always hold onto him. Rest in peace my dear friend, you'll always hold a special place in my heart.

A lesson learned in Australia

Over the course of my career, I've been lucky to keep my injury count low as I have been very good about keeping my body in the shape it needs to be in to perform. The program I have used was one that was instilled into me as a young junior player. Running, jobe bands, ice and compression...they have all been apart of this program that is aimed at recovering from the last outing and preparing for the next. The injury I sustained last July put me in a position that I had never had to deal with before.

Rehab.

Rehabbing from a fractured skull includes strengthening of just about every muscle group in your entire body. Whether it was the muscular atrophy of laying in an ICU bed for so long, the weight lost from having to ingest saline for a week, or even the flexibility lost from my body being so restricted for so long...I was faced with the full gauntlet of rehabilitation.

The rehab took me all over. Doctors appointments, physical therapists, late night sessions at the gym and pool and then eventually to Australia last January. But once I got done the rehab, it was smooth seas ahead. It was like I could actually see the positive results in my head before they even happened. I knew all my hard work to get back was going to make me that much better when I finally stepped on that hill again.

So, when I came back to Essendon for my second stint in Australia...everything seemed to set itself up for a big year for me. The hard work I was continuing to do, the fantastic second half I had in El Paso this past summer and the aching for a VBL championship all played parts into this. I wanted the ball as much as I could to begin the season so every opportunity to get it was one I would not pass up. I couldn't pass it up really...I mean wasn't the long for pitching again the reason why I actually got out of that ICU bed in the first place?

I pitched this fall and I pitched a ton. I was given a second job out here as well and was working with the junior programs extensively. Needless to say, my time to do things on my own was pretty thin. My arm felt strong though so my training and preparation took a backseat for the time being. The season started off picturesque and I was high flying. At one point though, one of our top pitchers went down with an injury to his hamstring and three of the top teams in the VBL loomed the following week for us. The Sunday game at Doncaster came and I threw seven solid innings. Two days later, I stepped back on the mound against Waverley for a two inning stint at Altona. The week was finally capped off with a six inning performance with a win at Cheltenham.

My line for the week was great...3 wins, 16 innings, a ton of punchouts. I felt good but began to feel some weakness in my elbow. It was a weakness that I tried to ignore and throw through but as much as I could mask the pain, I couldn't hide the results. My velocity had begun to plummet, I was beginning to have trouble sleeping at night on my right side and the swelling was so intense I could hardly bend my elbow properly. Eventually long toss ceased and bullpens began to shorten. Things were intensifying but I tried to ignore them, hoping they would go away on their own.

On the week before Thanksgiving, I threw at Doncaster again and we dropped a 3-2 decision...partly in part to my inability to stay on top of my sinker and extend on my slider. The loss was frustrating but I kind of put it away with a long run following the game, hoping that in the next day I begin to prepare for a win in my next outing. I was greeted the following morning with a elbow so swollen that movement had completely ceased. The slight touch against the ulnar collateral muscle provided a pretty painful response and pins and needles flew through my forearm. I began to think...it was all my own fault. And then just like that, it all came together to me in my head.

The unhealthy eating, poor training, and massive physical workload was the combination...and it was my elbow and body's way of telling me it was time to shut things down for a while. It hurt to swallow and after a visit to the physiotherapist and orthopaedic surgeon, I was diagnosed with the slightest tear (grade 1) of my MCL. It was back to the rehabilitation for this guy. It hurt, as I knew I was going to have to sit back, but overcoming an injury was something I had done before. Was I going to be able to sit back and let the healing take place?

Who was I to fool...sitting back has never been in my character. As soon as I can back, I was going to to.

And no one was going to stop me.

My life as a movie; Rewinding back to where it all began (Part 1)

I close my eyes and hit the rewind button.

My eyes open up and I see myself laying in a lonely Ascot Vale apartment. I'm trying to decipher the relationship between a masked outward confidence and a deep inner fear. I'm uncertain yet optimistic, weak yet healthy.

I look at my keyboard and begin to write. Writing was (and always has been) my favorite way to describe what I'm feeling. I bite my lip, shake my head, type, erase, regroup, look into space and think about what I WANT to say, type, pause for a second, erase, think about what I SHOULD say, reconsider if the words are correct, type, nod my head, smile, and move onto next line.

The post, which was written exactly one year ago to the day, was my first true post in Australia and initial one after seeing live hitters for the first time. The following three segments were used from this particular entry:

"As I woke up on that Saturday morning, I had a very weird feeling inside of me. I wasn't afraid of facing hitters again but was reluctant to see how I would handle it once I was on the mound again. I've been told time and time again that I am never going to really know what it's going to feel like..."

"This injury has taught me so much about life. Fear is only as strong as you make it. Being afraid is natural, there is no doubt about that. The true definition of yourself is how you go about handling your fears. In my case, July 2nd will always be rooted in my soul but instead of being afraid of going back out and having it happen again, I look at the other 500,000 pitches I threw before that.

"What happened happened and there is no other way to go about bettering myself than to throw myself back into action again. As I stepped on the mound the other day, that unspeakable feeling of being a pitcher was back."

The rewind button is stopped. I'm a bit amazed that an entire year has already passed. Everything feels so much the same as it did then..I'm back in Australia again, I feel warmth all around me..heck, I'm even looking at the exact same computer screen. It all seems so weird but I'm happy with the journey.

I close my eyes again. I begin to think...I begin to go back.

Do these words really portray the feeling deep inside of me? Are they the truth? Did what happen...just happen and was I OK with it? Am I hiding my fear of the unknown? At this time was I really in control of my own quest? Was I happy with where I was..where I was going...and the uncertainty lying ahead?

I begin to see a vision as all of these questions travel through my head. I hear a rumble and my path goes back to where it all began.

I see myself lying on the ground, holding my head, as screams of terror ring out from the crowd at hand. A doctor has his hand pinned against my chest, I begin to hear the ambulance sirens but still don't feel any pain. There are no tears, just an eerier feeling as to the question of what just happened. I begin to be loaded onto the stretcher and see such worried faces upon my teammates. I make my path towards the opened ambulance doors and it begins to go dark. Then just like that, everything goes black.

I open my eyes again and I'm a year removed from that initial post and over 550 days from that dreadful July night. My thoughts are different, ways have changed, and understanding of life morphed into a creature so optimistic and free that one may have to pinch me to take the smile off my face.

(This is Part I of My life as a Movie; Rewinding back to where it all began)