There’s nothing quite like the atmosphere of a pro ball game. Sweating your tail off in uncomfortable plastic seats, getting sunburnt to a crisp or soaked down to the bone depending on the weather. When you’ve been waiting at least half an hour for your buddy to come back from the concession stand, nothing is more refreshing than that first sip of soda or as satisfying as that first bite into a ball park dog. You call off work the next day because you’ve completely lost your voice while cheering on your favorite team.
The feeling of being on the actual field though, playing the game, is something else entirely. It’s a feeling almost indescribable, there’s really nothing quite like it. The nerves in the locker room before the game were paralyzing. Even with four preseason starts under my belt, it feels different knowing this is one that matters. The knowledge that I could screw up on just a single snap and let my whole team down haunted me like a nightmare. I threw up once in the bathroom upon entering the facility, and then twice more after I got my equipment on. Though the last two were mostly just panic-induced dry heaves.
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as the Myrtle Beach Buccaneers waited in the tunnel before kickoff. Even my time spent with the Buckeyes paled in comparison to this moment. The crowd roared as we took the field. Cheers for “GOAT TANK” must have been heard miles away. I believe I heard a fan request McJimmerson’s hand in marriage as we swept jogged to our spots on the sidelines. Though said fan seemed to be quite intoxicated and the home crowd was very loud, so it’s entirely possible their proposal was significantly more indecent than what I interpreted. The whole moment was just so incredibly surreal, it felt like I was a member of the Beatles.
The nerves didn’t let up. I was driving myself crazy. All I could think about was not making a mistake on my debut game. It was then that I remembered what my Joliet Junior College coach, Benj Gillord, told me. Like Chubbs Peterson to my Happy Gilmore, the clouds parted and Benj’s face showed through the clouds. He spoke to me, and he said, “Wherever you go, there you are.”
I said, “Wait, what? How does that apply here, coach? Also, you’re alive and well, why are you speaking to me as though you’re an angelic vision guiding me on a quest?” My teammates looked at me with concern and I thought back to the salad I had earlier with McJimmerson when we hit the buffet. I remember thinking the mushrooms tasted a bit funny to me at the time, so I walked over to the sideline and threw up in a trash bin once more.
After flushing the food poisoning out of my system, I stopped to think again about Coach Gillord’s words. Wherever you go, there you are. I got here because people believed in me. My mother, my brother, Coach Gillord, and now the Buccaneers organization. They brought me here because they know I can make an impact and they know I can help lead the team to success. My teammates trust me and I trust them. I put my helmet back on after profusely apologizing to the equipment manager who had to empty the trash can I’d desecrated, and as I lined up next to my teammates all wearing the purple and green, everything seemed to go quiet. The crowd became a white noise and I was locked in, focused on the game plan. It’s time to go out there and prove my worth, prove that this league is where I belong. It’s game time.
The feeling of being on the actual field though, playing the game, is something else entirely. It’s a feeling almost indescribable, there’s really nothing quite like it. The nerves in the locker room before the game were paralyzing. Even with four preseason starts under my belt, it feels different knowing this is one that matters. The knowledge that I could screw up on just a single snap and let my whole team down haunted me like a nightmare. I threw up once in the bathroom upon entering the facility, and then twice more after I got my equipment on. Though the last two were mostly just panic-induced dry heaves.
I could hear my heart pounding in my ears as the Myrtle Beach Buccaneers waited in the tunnel before kickoff. Even my time spent with the Buckeyes paled in comparison to this moment. The crowd roared as we took the field. Cheers for “GOAT TANK” must have been heard miles away. I believe I heard a fan request McJimmerson’s hand in marriage as we swept jogged to our spots on the sidelines. Though said fan seemed to be quite intoxicated and the home crowd was very loud, so it’s entirely possible their proposal was significantly more indecent than what I interpreted. The whole moment was just so incredibly surreal, it felt like I was a member of the Beatles.
The nerves didn’t let up. I was driving myself crazy. All I could think about was not making a mistake on my debut game. It was then that I remembered what my Joliet Junior College coach, Benj Gillord, told me. Like Chubbs Peterson to my Happy Gilmore, the clouds parted and Benj’s face showed through the clouds. He spoke to me, and he said, “Wherever you go, there you are.”
I said, “Wait, what? How does that apply here, coach? Also, you’re alive and well, why are you speaking to me as though you’re an angelic vision guiding me on a quest?” My teammates looked at me with concern and I thought back to the salad I had earlier with McJimmerson when we hit the buffet. I remember thinking the mushrooms tasted a bit funny to me at the time, so I walked over to the sideline and threw up in a trash bin once more.
After flushing the food poisoning out of my system, I stopped to think again about Coach Gillord’s words. Wherever you go, there you are. I got here because people believed in me. My mother, my brother, Coach Gillord, and now the Buccaneers organization. They brought me here because they know I can make an impact and they know I can help lead the team to success. My teammates trust me and I trust them. I put my helmet back on after profusely apologizing to the equipment manager who had to empty the trash can I’d desecrated, and as I lined up next to my teammates all wearing the purple and green, everything seemed to go quiet. The crowd became a white noise and I was locked in, focused on the game plan. It’s time to go out there and prove my worth, prove that this league is where I belong. It’s game time.
![[Image: P8ol19j.png]](https://i.imgur.com/P8ol19j.png)
![[Image: jFtfyGV.jpg]](https://i.imgur.com/jFtfyGV.jpg)
