I had spent most of the school year in and out of rehab, trying to get back on the horse. I knew I wouldn’t go back to football I hadn’t felt the passion for it.

As I was walking threw the hallways of school I had notice try outs for the high school baseball club. At this point of time I had nothing to gain and nothing to lose, my leg was so close to being fully healed I didn’t see why not push my luck a little.

I had ran all the way home to retrieve my old baseball bat that I had gotten back when I was eleven, hoping it had some magic left over.

As the day was coming to a close I had sat on the bench wondering when I would get my turn to race up there and take some hits.
The minutes turned to hours my stomach was turning inside out, I was sweating more then ever. I was about to leave when they called my name. I had slowly moved to the plate with my bat in hand.

I stood there in shock and awe wondering how badly I’m going to look in front of every one here.