The Freak

Among the many dreams that run marathons in my sleeping mind at night, one stuck out like a yellow tuxedo. It wasn't the bottom of ninth with 2 outs and I'm called to close. It wasn't bases loaded in the world series with everyone screaming for a homerun. It wasn't me on 3rd base tempted to steal home. No. It was an empty baseball diamond with me, a catcher, and Tim Lincecum from the San Francisco Giants or "The Freak" as they call him. This kid is the future of pitching and I gave him a run for his bank account. As I totally recall my dream: The Freak stepped on the mound and I watched with crossed arms. I wasn't angry or amazed. I was just there. Watching as this kid threw fastballs at the center of the strike zone topping 95mph on every release. His curve balls sliced the air and moved with english. Then I strolled up there. My first pitch sailed away from the catcher. Way away. But my second stung the hand of the backstop's and shocked The Freak. I threw a few more and continued an onslaught of perfection. The Freak just looked at me with respect. Then....I just walked away from the mound. I walked right off the field crying gallons of broken tears. You would've thought I just witnessed my dog getting run over by a New York City taxi cab from the way I was gasping for air and fighting to control my heart from exploding out of my chest. What the hell happened?

As a kid my father wanted me to play baseball. I was good. Real good. But I didn't have the heart and passion needed to be a champion. I made the varsity team as a freshman in high school and fucked it all away. So I kept trying to prove to myself that I still had it and joined a few street leagues. I had the talent but still no passion. Those tears from the mound symbolized my failed shot at the baseball Hall of Fame. My failed shot at becoming a Yankee. Wearing the pin stripes. The biggest "R" is regret. I don't have many regrets but I have this one. Regret for not persuing what I KNEW was my life's calling. So to make up for all the baseball I missed out on, I'm following another passion. Acting. The fire I should've had on the diamond will be on screen. The short stop I should've been will be my next movie role. Pops said, "there's nothing in the world better than getting paid millions for doing something you love." So, I'll make a few movies. Become a regular on a couple of TV shows. And I'll buy season tickets to see the Yankees and spend the rest of my life watching the sport I was supposed to be a part of. And if the Yankees face the San Francisco Giants in a World Series game...I'm gonna throw an ice cream helmet at The Freak.