Davis played baseball in the fall. He was the youngest boy on the kid-pitch team. He struck out over and over and actually didn’t hit the ball a single time. He was an eight-year old on team of mostly 10 year olds who didn’t lose a single game the whole season. Because of his inexperience, he was placed in the outfield and rarely was even expected to field a ball. He cried several times and was unsure if baseball was his sport. When it was time to sign up for spring ball, Davis was understandably hesitant. He only wants to do things that he is good at and based on his experience in the fall, baseball was not on his “try again” list. However, because the boy loves baseball, I told him that he shouldn’t allow one season to determine his forever opinion about playing. So, after many conversations and much encouragement, he decided to give it one more try. This season has been a total 180. Davis has hit the ball almost every time he has come up to bat. You can just tell when he walks up and stands in the batter’s box that he has a confidence and a burning desire to put his bat on the ball. He has stolen bases like a pro. His coach gave him the opportunity to play first base. Virtually every ball that is thrown to him results in an out for the other team. Nothing gets by him. I have sat in those bleachers and watched him play with tears in my eyes. Last year, it was tears as I saw him walk back to the dugout, head hung low, defeated. This year, those tears are ones of pride that he is confident, sure of himself, and of the fact that he didn’t give up on something that was hard. I asked him the other day what he wanted to be when he grew up. His perfect response…A professional baseball player.