How Do I Top That… ?


Hello internet! (Queue Eminem intro) It FEELS SO GOOD TO BE BACK!

It has been a lengthy 365 days since my last blog post and for the seldom few readers who are asking yourselves, “Why did it take you so long to bust out the laptop again, Bailey?” The answer is pretty simple… it’s because my last post surprisingly BLEW UP! Well, “blew up” according to my expectations at least.

Prior to “Fastball, Curveball, Slider, Change”, I think my blog site had received MAYBE a couple hundred views from my close friends and family members. So after I shared my story about pitching in my first big league spring training game, I figured the feedback would probably be more of the same.

“We are so proud of you.” “Keep working hard.” “Continue chasing your dream.”

However, to my surprise the internet seemed to take a liking to my writing style, with the post receiving over 100 retweets and 400 likes on Twitter.

Now, I’m fully aware that I live in an era where a simple tweet of a puppy wearing a seat belt can muster up a modest 1.7 million shares; so to put things in perspective, my 100 retweets really wasn’t that impressive. But for a minor league baseball player who had a whopping 500 followers at the time, 100 retweets was A HUGE DEAL.

puppy wearing a seatbelt

Cuteness overload.

Probably the coolest part about the whole situation was the fact that a few major social media accounts decided to share my story on their Twitter feeds. Agencies like the Houston Chronicle, Fox 26 Houston, and 9News Denver all promoted my post. Elite athletes such as Emanuel Sanders, Evan Gattis, and Jose Bautista liked my tweet. Heck even the Houston Texan’s Cheerleading team shot me a follow!

It was in that moment, that I realized I might be on to something with this whole writing thing…

joey tribbiani

All jokes aside, “Fastball, Curveball, Slider, Change” received more positive feedback than I could’ve ever imagined. Which leads me to my next topic, the title of this post… HOW THE **** DO I TOP THAT!?

The thought of creating new content that would impact other people even remotely close to my previous blog entry was daunting to say the least. As a result, I shied away from writing because I didn’t think I could ever construct something as engaging, entertaining, or interactive ever again. Not even if Astros general manager Jeff Luhnow called me up and said, “I’ll promote you to the big leagues if you write another blog post.” (If only it were that simple.)

Right on it boss!

Spongebob Writing.gif

And if severe writers block wasn’t enough, also factor in:

  • Playing 142 baseball games in roughly 155 days.
  • Getting my tonsils removed immediately after the 2018 season.
  • And working 3 part-time jobs from October to February along with being extremely focused on my development as a baseball player.

The schedule has been just a little busy.

The good news is, I not only have some free time on a Monday afternoon to sit down and write, but I also came to the realization as to why I write in the first place. I don’t jot down my thoughts & post them “on the line” for the approval of others. on the line I also don’t blog with the end goal of receiving ample amounts of likes and shares on social media. I write because I enjoy documenting my life. I write because I want to be able to look back and reminisce about all the laughs, fond memories, & crazy experiences as a professional athlete. It’s a way for me to be creative, laid back, and carefree in contrast to my work life which requires me to be punctual, prompt, and meticulous. It’s a hobby that I thoroughly enjoy and it’s something I plan on doing more of in the future.


So now that I’ve justified my year long writing hiatus, where should I go from here?

I could talk about living back home in my parents basement for the majority of the offseason (riveting). I could talk about how I remarkably convinced a girl to date me despite the fact that I was living in my parents basement (embarrassing). Or I could recap part of last year with the Astros and update you on where I’m at in my baseball career (somewhat interesting).

Maybe touch on all 3? Screw it, I’ve got a few hours…

First, “The Offseason”. Centered around getting better at baseball and spending quality time with family. IMG_1105

Since the fall of 2013 when I left for college, I’ve been away from Colorado for roughly eleven months out of the year. Summers were spent traveling for baseball. Autumns & winters were spent with my face in a textbook. Springs were a combination of both. So when the 2018 baseball season concluded, I was pumped for two reasons:

  1. This would be my first offseason as a college graduate!
  2. I get to move back in with my parents! (Not usually a sentence filled with excitement from a single, 23 year old guy but hey its true).

I missed my mom, dad, and little sister Bri. And while it’s always great seeing them when they would fly out to watch me play in places like Corpus Christi or West Palm Beach, it’s also bitter sweet because their weekend visits always seem to pass with the blink of an eye.

During a minor league baseball season, guys don’t have large amounts of free time to sit, relax, and soak in the presence of their families. Instead, we wake up around 9:00am, shower, eat some breakfast, and then head to the field around noon. From that point on, players like myself are at the stadium the rest of the day, working on developing our baseball skills until the 7 o’clock game concludes around ten or eleven each night. This usually means that guys only get to see their families during breakfast hours and then after the game for dinner. Not exactly the most eventful family gatherings but we work with the time we have.

As the extensive season presses on, long periods away from loved ones can start to take a toll on ball-players, creating that uneasy feeling of being homesick. So when the 2018 season came to a close and I was presented with the chance to move back in with my parents, I decided quality family time was much needed after nonstop traveling for 5 years straight.

Being back home in Broomfield, I noticed that it was the little things that I’d missed more than anything. Little things like sitting down to family dinners prepared by my mom Antionette. Or hanging out in the living room, cheering on the Zags basketball team with my parents during tough matchups against schools like Duke & North Carolina. But what I missed more than anything was playing and joking around with my baby cousins.

Life comes at you fast; It’s theses types of moments that make coming home so special.


Christmas Eve 2018 with my sister Bri & my cousins.

Second, “The Lady Friend”. A true underdog story about how a broke minor-leaguer landed a California smoke show.

Let me start by saying this… I out kicked my coverage on this one. There’s really no other way to describe it. It’s like the universe decided I’d been through enough **** in my personal life and my reward for putting up with all of it was a VIP ticket to the electric factory.


A blind squirrel finds a nut every once in a while…

The story begins 5 years ago after my high school girlfriend broke up with me during my first semester of college. My family had recently moved to Tucson, Arizona because of my dad’s job, so when I returned home for Christmas break I was all bent out of shape.massage chair gif

I’m never going to find somebody. Why is this happening? The world is ending.

The usual crap. Over exaggerating the situation like any 18 year old would.

My little sister Bri being the great person that she is, tried doing everything she could to cheer me up.

“Bubba you’re going to be fine. There are plenty of fish in the sea. Here, take a look at my new friend Rachel...

kevin hart shocked

My face the first time I saw Rachel haha

“Um… Bri. Who is that?” I asked in shock (Electric factory. No pun intended).

“That’s my new friend Rachel,” she replied, “I met in modeling class.”

< < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < < <

“Are you going to introduce me to your new friend Rachel from modeling class?” I asked.

“Well I can… but there’s one minor problem,” Bri explained, “She kinda’ got a boyfriend.”

“You’ve got to be kidding me sis! If she’s dating someone, why would you show me her Instagram and get my hopes up?” I joked.

“I just wanted to prove a point that other people are out there and clearly you’re picking up what I’m putting down,” she laughed.

Well played sis. Well played.

After my conversation with Bri I decided to shoot this “Rachel chick” a follow. A simple reminder to myself that there ARE other fish in the sea indeed. And as an added bonus, she followed me back. Chalk that one up in the win column!


Fast forward 5 years and you’ll find me, a single 23, about to be 24 year old just enjoying life in Broomfield, Colorado in October. My family had moved back to our home state in 2014 after one year in Arizona. And while we enjoyed having a swimming pool in our backyard, we really didn’t vibe well with the rattle-snakes, scorpions, and tarantulas that wanted to join the party. After 4 years at Gonzaga University, I had finally finished my degree and was pleased with the direction my life was headed. A solid first year with the Astros gave me confidence. Landing a job at the local Oakley store provided me with some income. And to top it off, living rent free in my parents basement while dominating NBA 2K19 wasn’t a bad setup either. I’d say I was 100% content with this prime-time bachelor lifestyle.

But occasionally when you think you’ve got everything figured out, life throws you a curveball.  Sometimes it’s a Clayton Kershaw hook where you need a tennis racquet to have a fighting chance. Other times, it’s a Lance McCullers breaker where you couldn’t hit it even if you knew it was coming. But every once in awhile, you get a hanger. You get the pitch you’re looking for. An offering where you can get your front foot down, cheat the hip, let’er rip, and absolutely annihilate it over the centerfield wall!

On October 5th, 2018, Rachel Shrode threw me a curveball & I read spin ladies and gentleman.

It's happening

How I reacted when I realized she was available lol

It was a relaxing evening and I had just finished the last episode of Game of Thrones: Season 7 (Mind. Blown.). Before I went to bed, I decided to check out Instagram for a few minutes. The first picture that popped up on my feed was posted by @_littlefitlife, a.k.a. Rachel so I decided to check out her profile, noticing immediately that all of the pictures with the guy she’d been dating were gone…

For the first time in 5 years, both Rachel and I were single at the exact same time. I knew this would probably be my only opportunity to make a move so I decide to do what any other 24 year old guy would in this situation… slide into the DM’s, shoot my shot, & pray.

To my surprise, I tried stretching a single into a double, slid head first, and I was safe. I completed the 60 yard Hail-Mary with no time left on the clock. I drained the 35-foot, buzzer beater to win the game. Jose Altuve, Roger Staubach, & James Harden would be proud.

Fast forward 6 months and things couldn’t get much better. Rachel recently landed a job with a marketing company in Houston and I reported to spring training in mid-February which means baseball season is just around the corner. After some serious talks about what would be best for both of us long term, Rachel and I have decided that we are moving to Texas together once Spring Training breaks! We are both very excited to start this new journey and we’re looking forward to what the future has in store.


And finally, “The Baseball”. A brief recap of my first season as an Astro followed by a quick update on where things stand in 2019.

If I had to describe my first year as a member of the Astros farm system, I would probably start with the phrase, “It was a learning experience.”

2018 was a little bit of a roller coaster ride with some intense highs and lows in terms of my overall performance on the baseball field. For every great outing I had, it seemed like the next was a guaranteed struggle to make it out of the first inning. I couldn’t seem to find my groove and with each bad outing that surfaced, the negative self-talk and self-doubt slowly grew.

Maybe I’m not as good as I thought I was. Maybe the Astros made a mistake trading for me. I wonder what my coaches and teammates think?

For the first time in my professional career, I was uncertain if I was good enough to pitch in the big leagues, analyzing every 3 ball count, walk, and earned run.

What I didn’t understand was that the Astros player development staff was purposely challenging me to get out of my comfort zone, propelling me to throw more curveballs and sliders rather than my bread & butter fastball-changeup combo. This new challenge forced me to deal with some failure and adversity; and while no player ever wants to be told that they have blaring weaknesses in their game, sometimes it’s the brutally honest conversations that lead to the biggest improvements.

“We’re not preparing you to have success in the Carolina League,” my High-A pitching coach Drew French explained to me one day after a tough outing, “We are preparing you to have success in the big leagues.”


This quote really resonated with me because it put my on- field struggles into perspective. It’s easy to practice the things you’re already good at. During the 2018 season, I learned that if I wanted to reach my ultimate goal, I needed to get comfortable practicing the things I wasn’t. It was a humbling 6 months of baseball.

With the help of Astros pitching coaches Chris Holt, Josh Miller, Drew French, and Bill Murphy, along with Astros mental skills coordinator Jesse Michel, I was able to make some huge strides in my development. Through countless trial & error repetitions and my fair share of 1 on 1 mental skills meetings, I found adjustments that worked for me, making drastic improvements in all areas of my game.

As for where things stand today? I’m currently in the final stretch of my second spring training with the Astros here in West Palm Beach, Florida. And while I might not have the slam dunk story about my first time pitching in a big league Spring Training game, I’ve got a small side story equivalent to a fundamental layup…

jackie moon

It was this past Monday, March 11th and I’d been asked to go suit up for the big league team. I checked the schedule when I arrived at the park and wouldn’t you know it, we were playing the Mets! (Talk about deja vu)

From here, you probably know the drill. I walked over to the big league side of the complex, grabbed my uniform from the clubby (number 91 this time, moving up in the world) and then made my way to the cafeteria to punish myself with the big league lunch spread.

I stacked my plate with a mountain of food, found the nearest place to sit, and assumed the position. The table I picked didn’t have a single soul and although I felt way more comfortable backing up for the big league squad this time around, I still didn’t have the cajones to take a seat next to Carlos Correa & Lance McCullers and chat it up about APEX Legends.

As I started to stuff my face with lemon chicken, brown rice, and mixed veggies, my buddy Corbin Martin came and sat down with me. Martin, a 23 year old right handed pitcher from southeast Texas, is a pitching prospect Astros fans should be really excited about because he throws his fastball in the mid to upper 90’s, has solid command and displays two, above-average, power breaking balls. The guy can flat out pitch and in my opinion, will probably be helping the Astros get back to the World Series sooner rather than later.

I first met Corbin last year when we both were assigned to High-A Buies Creek. It didn’t take long for me to realize that this Texas country boy was probably one of the funnier guys I’ve ever met; constantly cracking jokes, doing hilarious imitations, and telling crazy stories about his home state. When he sat down at my table I felt a sigh of a relief because I was no longer the Steven Glansberg of the big league cafeteria. He and I small talked about how spring training was going and when both of us were scheduled to pitch next. Then out of nowhere, another guy sat down to my right…

I was mid-sip into my blueberry Powerade when Justin Verlander sat down at our table and I’m 90% sure part of the sports drink fell out of the side of my mouth. Here’s a guy that has been dominating baseball since he first broke into the league back in 2006 and is hands down a first ballot Hall of Famer. I was twelve when he won the American League Rookie of the Year in Detroit. In 2017, while I worked towards finishing my degree at Gonzaga University, Verlander was dominating the postseason, leading the Astros to their first World Series title ever. And now it’s 2019 and we’re having lunch together… what is going on?

ricky bobby

Thank God Corbin was there to spark up a conversation with Verlander because I was literally speechless. All I could do was keep repeating the same thing over and over in my head…

Just act normal, don’t say anything stupid! Just act normal, don’t say anything stupid!

I’m pretty sure I didn’t move, blink, or breathe for the entire conversation. And right when I was about to muster up the courage to introduce myself to the Cy Young winner, another player sat down across from me at the table… Michael Brantley Jr.

As if the Astros weren’t already stacked, the addition of Brantley takes this team to a whole new level. With Bryce Harper being the center of attention in regards to outfield free-agents this offseason, I feel like Brantley flew under the radar and was an absolute steal for the Astros. The guy slashed .309/.364/.468 last year and had the 3rd highest AB to K ratio in all of baseball. Add him into a lineup already filled with elite contact hitters like Altuve, Bregman, & Correa, and you’ve got yourself lots of baserunners and seldom few strikeouts.

Once again, I had little to contribute to the following conversation that would take place between Verlander, Brantley, and Martin about autograph hounds that infiltrate the facility during Spring Training. This was a problem I’d yet to experience considering I enter through the minor league side everyday and I’m usually mistaken for the bat boy when I’m in uniform 9 times out of 10 anyways. Perks of being 5’9 I guess.

My plate was now empty and I was contemplating getting up and exiting towards the locker room. The only problem was, I couldn’t get my legs to work. familyguy15So rather than risk doing something clumsy like bumping the table and spilling Verlander’s fresh cup of coffee, I decided to sit and attempt to not move a single muscle. Yes, this was actually my thought process at that point in time. There’s a 100% chance that if I spilled a hot cup of Joe all over Verlander’s lap, I’m getting released on the spot, that day by the Astros. Couldn’t afford to risk it.

Just act normal, don’t say anything stupid. Drink your **** Justin…

After what seemed like an eternity (but in actuality was only 5 minutes time) Verlander, Brantley, & Martin all finished their plates and stood up from the table. I quickly followed, exhaling a huge sigh of relief.

Good job B! You didn’t completely embarrass yourself. Instead, Verlander & Brantley think you don’t speak english.

Eh, I’ll take it. Way better than getting released…

Fastball, Curveball, Slider, Change…


Fastball, curveball, slider, change; a prototypical pitching arsenal that pitchers who take the mound have been utilizing for more than a century in an attempt to keep hitters off balance. It’s no secret to the baseball world that the most successful pitchers are those who can affectively throw multiple pitch types for strikes on a consistent basis (unless your Mariano Rivera or Aroldis Chapman, then you only need one pitch). Pitchers like Justin Verlander, Clayton Kershaw, and Noah Syndergaard are great examples of professional athletes that contain this ability. Every fifth day of the week, these perennial all-stars dish out deceptive pitch sequences that cause opposing batters to cringe as they hopelessly attempt to make contact with the baseball. There is a certain ambience that fills the stadium when these guys toe the rubber. A certain emotion that is felt inside every spectator, coach, and teammate. So effortless, so fluent, they make it look so easy.

However, each of these individuals has spent countless years, months, weeks, days, and hours working towards perfecting their craft. To obtain this unique talent requires numerous throws and constant practice repetitions but it also demands an abundance of trial and error scenarios. It’s one thing to be able to throw multiple pitch types and make them move efficiently through the air as they travel towards home plate. It’s another thing to be able to repeat this ability on a consistent basis. To top things off, nothing I mentioned above matters unless the athlete is able to throw each pitch inside an extremely small strike zone which happens to be 60 feet 6 inches away, 17 inches wide, & roughly 36 inches high. Simple enough right?

At this point, you might be wondering where I’m going with such a detailed introduction. I promise there is a funny story behind all this. Well, I think it’s funny at least…

It all started on the afternoon of Monday, February 26th, 2018.

  • Location: Fitteam Ballpark of the Palm Beaches in West Palm Beach, Florida.
  • Matchup: Justin Verlander (every decent-looking, middle-aged man in America’s hero for obvious reasons) & the defending World Series Champion Houston Astros verse Noah Syndergaard [a.k.a. Thor (a.k.a. the man who looks like he could be the son of the Greek God Zeus & during adolescence got struck by one of father’s lightning bolts in his right arm)] and the New York Mets.syndergaardthorcrop
  • The current time: 12pm, approximately one hour ’til game time.
  • The scenario: It’s my first week of spring training with the Houston Astros. I’ve been asked to suit up for the big league team along with a couple of fellow mini-camp invites. Last spring training I had the opportunity to suit up for two big league games when I was still a part of the Oakland Athletics organization but I never came close to actually pitching in the game.

As you can imagine I was extremely nervous with this whole situation. Here I am, the new guy on the block, trying to get acclimated with all the changes that come after being traded from one professional baseball organization to another. Everything is new.  The spring training complex, coaches, strength coaches, trainers, mental skills coordinators, human resource contacts, player development philosophies, player expectations, and finally, new teammates. It’s a lot to process and it can take time to adjust. But I’m a professional. I have to expect the unexpected. I have to be able to adapt because the game isn’t going to slow down for anyone. So when I was assigned to backup the defending world champions just five days into camp, I would say that fell into the realm of the unexpected. Would I be able to adapt?

This was one of the greatest, most nerve racking days of my life. Not only had I just reported to spring training a few days earlier, but prior to this game, the last time I had faced hitters was a week before in Woodward, Oklahoma. My younger cousin Kaity was able to help set up a live batting practice session with her former high school varsity baseball team. Let me say that again because I don’t think I properly emphasized the severity of the situation… THE LAST TIME I PITCHED AGAINST HITTERS WAS A WEEK EARLIER AGAINST THE WOODWARD HIGH SCHOOL VARSITY BASEBALL TEAM!!! AND NOW, JUST ONE WEEK LATER, I COULD POTENTIALLY BE FACING SOME OF THE BEST HITTERS IN THE WORLD!


Needless to say, my heart rate was on a steady incline from the moment I stepped foot into the Astro’s locker room. My first responsibility: find the clubby and get my jersey. I was given number 99… quaint. Nothing says “I’m not actually a big leaguer, I’m just here for damage control if s*it hits the fan,” quite like number 99. As I left the clubhouse manager’s office I tried brainstorming pitchers in the big leagues who had the cajones to rock such a majestic number. Bpuz1e-IYAA0bECThe only guy I could think of was Ricky “Wild Thing” Vaughn of the Cleveland Indians but that was a movie for crying out loud! And despite popular belief, I didn’t show up to spring training this year throwing 101 mph fuzzballs in a sleeveless, cutoff t-shirt! Maybe next year…


Assignment number two: introduce myself to AJ Hinch, the manager of the Houston Astros. Immediately upon stepping into Hinch’s office, I felt my throat start to swell up and my body start to numb. Just four months earlier, I was watching this guy rally his troops in the 2017 World Series against the Los Angeles Dodgers. Now, even if it was just for a day, I was one of his soldiers reporting for duty (literally). Hinch didn’t have much to say to fellow mini-camp right-handed pitcher Andrew Thome and I, but what he did say definitely caught my attention. He opened with an ice breaker that gave praise to mini-camp position player Ryne Birk, who had suited up for the big league team the day before. Birk, a left-handed hitting second baseman from Texas A&M University, went 3 for 3 in his first big league game of the spring, making it look like the “the show” was nothing but a thing. We all had a quick laugh about the irony of Birk’s stellar performance before the skipper moved on to a more serious subject matter. He told us that it was likely either Thome or myself would be getting into the game but he wasn’t sure when that might be. He encouraged us to attack the strike zone and to be ready if our name was called. We shook his hand, thanked him for having us, and I exhaled deeply on the way out.

From there, Thome and I decided it would be a good idea to also introduce ourselves to the Astro’s pitching coach Brent Strom. We found him in the coaches lounge which happened to be one door over from Hinch’s office. It was a quick interaction, with Strom basically reiterating what Hinch had already said about being ready to go and to attack the strike zone. After introductions were finished, Thome and I made our way back towards the players locker room, stopping at the bulletin board in the hallway which had todays lineup card posted. I don’t think I’ve ever been so starstruck in my entire life. George Springer leading off, Josh Reddick hitting second, Jose Altuve third, Carlos Correa fourth, Brian McCann DH’ing, and Justin Verlander on the bump. After staring at the same piece of paper for probably 5 minutes, I turned to walk back in the locker room when to my surprise, I came face to face with Brian McCann, former all-star and current catcher for the Astros. I was so focused on trying to get out of McCann’s way that I almost left him hanging on a fist bump as he walked by. Luckily, I reacted quickly; squeezing my fingers together with my thumb as McCann knocked the living bejesus out of my right knuckles. He followed up his fist bump from hell with an enthusiastic “Lets get ’em today!” I tried not to tear up but my eyes got watery. I’m not sure if it was because I was so overjoyed that a big leaguer actually acknowledged me as a teammate or if it was because I was 90% sure he broke my hand. Regardless, it was a great yet painful moment.

After examining my fist for a few seconds, I took a seat in one of the chairs in the middle of the clubhouse, trying to draw as little attention to myself as possible. In all sports, not just baseball, it’s an unwritten rule for rookies to keep their head down and stay out of the way of veteran players when they are first called up to the big team. It can take weeks, sometimes months before a rookie proves themselves worthy of being officially welcomed into the team’s brotherhood. Given the circumstances that I was a one-day-fill-in player, I decided it was best if I just kept my head down and minded my own business. However, it wasn’t long before something caught my attention. Josh Reddick, the starting right fielder, who seemed to have a very outgoing personality, made a grand entrance just moments after I got situated in my chair. Reddick had brought in two french bulldog puppies and placed them in front of his locker, just a few feet away from where I was sitting. I don’t care where you are, big league clubhouse or not, any time there are puppies present, you have to get a closer look. Naturally, I decided to fake going to the bathroom just so I could pass by and casually pet each one of the bundles of fur.


After being distracted by a cuteness overload for twenty minutes, it was time to head out to the bullpen. I put on my uniform, laced my cleats, and checked myself out in the mirror before exiting the clubhouse. Look good, feel good, play good, am I right? I grabbed my glove and walked out towards the tunnel that led to the field with my former college teammate Taylor Jones. This was a pretty cool moment for me because Jonesy and I have been good friends ever since we met on Gonzaga’s campus back in the fall of 2013. Fast forward five years and we are both chasing our childhood dream of playing in the big leagues and yet, we still play on the same team. Crazy.


As the tunnel drew to an end, with the Florida sunshine beginning to surface, I wished Jonesy luck. He said the same and we parted ways; myself turning left into the bullpen, Jonesy continuing down the left field line towards the dugout. I’d say it was a great day to be a Zag (#GDTBAZ) indeed.

Okay B, don’t panic. You did this last year remember? You probably won’t even have to get warmed up. You’re just there to back up if things get crazy in the late innings, right? Wrong. Immediately after I walked into the bullpen I was met by the bullpen coach Dyar Miller. Miller, who happens to be celebrating his 51st season in professional baseball, greeted me with a smile and some shocking news.

“It’s Bailey right?” he asked.

“Yes sir,” I responded.

“It’s nice to meet you Bailey. My name is Dyar Miller. AJ told me to inform you that if any of the big leaguers get into trouble during the first few innings, you will be the first to go in. Sound good?”

It was in this moment that things started getting real for me. This wasn’t going to be one of those back-up situations like last year where I get to look cool with my Oakley sunglasses on, wearing the big league uniform, sitting in the bullpen for 9 innings while I listen to the big leaguers tell funny baseball stories. Oh no, this was the real f**king deal; with a high chance that I would inherit base runners if I did get in the game, making things even more stressful.

“Yep sounds good!” I shouted awkwardly. “Unbelievable,” I thought to myself. “He’s going to think I’m nuts.”

I stood there for a moment, attempting to process what Miller had just told me. My legs felt heavy, my arms felt weak. I could feel the heat from the sun beating down on my neck and my heart racing as if I had just finished The Bolder Boulder. It felt like I was in some sort of trance, completely still, unable to move my person. But then, out of nowhere… POW! A sound that snapped me out of my daze. A sound that is music to every pitcher’s ears. A sound that ignites fear in every hitter that’s about to step foot in a batters box. It was the sound of a catcher’s glove popping as a fastball whizzed into its leather. But this wasn’t any ordinary fastball. No, this was a fastball that had just been delivered by a future Hall of Famer.

Verlander towered on the mound. 6 feet 5 inches tall, 225 pounds, this guy was born to throw absolute cheddar biscuits. After hearing the sound of his first fastball whizzing by just a few feet away, I regained control of my body and moved into a better position to watch the Cy Young award winner warm up.

I’ve never seen anything like it. Every single pitch was perfect. It was like the guy wasn’t even trying. Fastball outside corner, painted. Change-up at the knees, good luck. Back foot slider against a lefty, spin city. Curveball a few inches off the dish, we’ll smell ya’. The guy did not miss. What makes things even more impressive is that Verlander’s fastball averages around 97 miles-an-hour, but he’s known to hit triple digits every now and again. During this bullpen, I’d say he was just getting a feel for things, probably throwing a nice and easy 93-94.

After putting on a pitching clinic for 10 minutes, Verlander shook hands with Max Stassi the starting catcher before they made their way towards the bullpen gate. All of the relief pitchers including myself, made a tunnel for Verlander and Stassi to walk through, giving fist bumps and words of encouragment to each guy as they exited towards the dugout.

Finally, it was game time and the hype around this pitching duel did not disappoint. Both Verlander and Syndergaard dominated. Verlander threw 2 scoreless innings with four strikeouts; Syndergaard threw 2 scoreless with two strikeouts. In addition to his solid outing, the son of Zeus delivered 11 fastballs that registered over 100 miles an hour.

Because it’s spring training, each starter had a limited pitch count, exiting the game relatively early. However, the pitchers who replaced them did not skip a beat in terms of fastball velocity. Every single pitcher who threw for both teams during the first four innings of the game (5 total) all threw fastballs over 97 miles an hour. As a spectator in the bullpen I turned to Andrew Thome and said jockingly, “Bro, if I do get in this game, my fastball is going to look like it’s moving in slow motion.” And then the phone rang…

It was the top of the 4th inning and Hector Rendon was pitching for the Astros. Rendon was slotted to throw just one inning for the day but was struggling from the start. A few batters reached base on hits while another worked a walk. The bullpen phone rang after the second batter of the inning reached base. Miller answered and listened to what Hinch had to say on the other end. It was a short conversation, probably only 5 seconds in length.

“Bailey start warming up!”

Holy Santa Claus s*it this is actually happening…

I grabbed my glove and made my way to the mound. Chucky Robinson, another mini-camp invite, was the bullpen catcher for the day and tossed me a brand new baseball. During my first week of camp, Chuck had been one of the first friends I made and having him there to warm me up gave me a little bit of comfort as I tensely gripped the baseball.

Okay B, you can do this. It’s just baseball. You’ve been playing this game for years. Yeah, every other guy in the game today has been throwing 97 but who cares? You throw 92 with control (smh…)! Alright, let ‘er rip!

My first throw I nearly tossed out of the bullpen, just missing the top of the fence by a few inches.

Yep, I’m screwed.

I’m not sure how, but after that first wild throw I was able to get a grip on my nerves and found myself settling into a rythme. Fastball away, “Hey not bad”. Fastball inside, “That’s probably a strike,”. Change-up away, “I mean, it’s not Verlander’s but that was pretty darn good,”. Slider down “That could work,”. Curveball for a strike “Boom baby!” I was starting to build up some confidence when Miller called out, “Bailey are you ready?”

“Yeah I’m good,” I answered.

After Rendon failed to retire the next batter, I heard the words that I’ve been dreaming about since I was 5 years old, “Bailey you’re in!”

It felt like a scene out of a movie. Like everything was moving in slow motion. I tossed the baseball down, opened the bullpen gate, and started my jog towards the pitchers mound. During my run, I thought about the movie The Rookie staring Dennis Quaid. It’s one of my all-time favorite baseball movies and hits me in the feels every time I watch it. There is a scene in the film where the main character Jimmy Morris is told by the bullpen coach of the Tampa Bay Devil Rays that he was in the game just like I was in this very moment for the Astros. Once Jimmy reaches the mound the camera work depicts a feeling like the world around Morris is spinning rapidly.rookie I think the director was trying to simulate the feeling of nerves along with the pressure Morris was feeling at that point in time. I don’t think the film director could have done a better job illustrating the emotions that are felt during a players first big league appearance.

When I reached the mound I was met by AJ Hinch, catcher Max Stassi, and the four starting infielders which included former first overall pick Carlos Correa and 2017 American League MVP Jose Altuve. Hinch handed me the baseball and explained to me the situation.

“Alright, we’ve got runners on first and second base. There are two outs. Don’t try and do too much, just have fun and get us out of this.”

I nodded my head, “Okay skip.”

Max Stassi followed Hinch’s pep talk with a question, “What’s your name bro?”

This is where my introduction to this post comes in to play.

I was so nervous that my mind didn’t even process the question that Stassi had asked me. Instead, I was thinking about the importance of telling my new catcher what pitches I threw.

I responded with an answer completely out of left field, “Fastball, curveball, slider, change!”

I’m such an idiot.

Stassi laughed and said, “Alright bro! What do you want to do for signs?”

“Chase the outs, if I shake, first sign,” I replied.

At least I answered that question right…

“Alright lets do this!” Stassi said as he turned and jogged back towards home plate.

I started throwing my warmup pitches with the four infielders observing from behind the mound. My arm felt great which gave me some confidence. “If I can just throw that first strike, I know I’ll be alright,” I thought to myself. The umpire asked if I was ready to go after throwing about eight warm up pitches. I gave him the thumbs up. That’s when I turned to my right planning on fixing the dirt near the rubber but instead came toe to toe with the biggest shortstop I’ve ever seen. Looking straight up, neck completely flexed, I locked eyes with Correa. My new short-stop wanted to know what kind of fastball I threw.

“Four seam,” I responded.

“Does it move?” he asked.

“Nope, straight as an arrow unfortunately,” I said sadly.

Correa nodded and made his way back to his position.

This was it. My first big league appearance. In the moment, all I wanted to do was prove that I could play. All I wanted to do was show that even though I may not look like a prototypical big league pitcher, I could still come out and compete at this level. All I wanted to do was perform well, not just for myself, but for my family who was nervously watching back home in Colorado. And above all, right before I toed the rubber, I thought about wanting to prove everybody wrong that told me I would never make it this far. That very thought, lit a fire in my chest. I lowered the bill of my cap, locked on to the rubber, and waited for the sign.

Fastball away. I came set, checking the runner who was inching off second base. Correa was tapping his glove trying to keep the runner close and then suddenly broke back to his position. This was my indicator to deliver the pitch. I looked back at my target and fired a four seamer towards home plate. “HA!” yelled the umpire, indicating strike one. Stassi didn’t even have to move his glove. I exhaled a sigh of relief. Okay, you threw a strike, now lets get this guy. Stassi waited for the hitter to step back into the box. I took a deep breath, staring down the hitter to show I wasn’t intimidated. Fastball away again. I came set, this time Correa stayed in a good fielding position. The base runner was close to the bag, hinting that he wasn’t a threat to steal 3rd, so I decided to throw the pitch. The hitter swung and made contact, hitting a ground ball right at the first baseman. I sprinted over to first, ready to cover the bag incase my infielder wanted to toss me the ball. He declined, taking a few short steps to his left, stepping on the bag with plenty of time.

I did it! I actually did it! Overjoyed with emotion, I sprinted back to the 3rd base dugout. Before I got to the steps, Jose Altuve got my attention. He was clapping in his glove and then pointed at me, his way of telling me good job. That was the biggest compliment I have ever received and the man didn’t say a word. I went down the dugout stairs and was greeted with high fives from every single player and coach. Everyone was excited for me because they knew it was my first time pitching in a big league game.

I sat down on the bench and was met by AJ Hinch, “Can you go one more?” he asked.

“Absolutely,” I said, and he walked away.

During the bottom half of the fourth inning, Max Stassi hit a solo home run to put the Astros up by one. The score was now 5 to 4. After jogging around the bases and being greeted by high fives from all of the guys, Stassi and I had a moment to laugh about my “fastball, curveball, slider, change” response. We talked for a moment and I learned that he was also drafted by the A’s back in 2013 before being traded to Houston. By then, it was time for me to go back out for the top half of the 5th. I grabbed my glove and jogged to the mound. This time around, all the nerves had disappeared. It felt like just another baseball game and I was excited to have the opportunity to get my own inning. Hopefully I could make the most of it.

The first batter who stepped to the plate was Wilmer Flores, the starting 3rd baseman for the Mets. I made quick work of Flores, throwing a first pitch fastball that he swung & missed at, registering at a whopping 93 on the radar gun. I followed that pitch up with a great change piece that Flores took for strike two. Now I could do anything I wanted. Stassi and I were on the same page as he signaled fastball up hoping Flores might swing at it. Instead, Flores took the pitch as it whizzed right in to Stassi’s glove. The umpire felt like it grazed the top of the strike zone, ringing Flores up. Flores voiced his disagreement as he walked back to the dugout. One down, two to go.

The next hitter was Jose Reyes, the starting short-stop for New York. Jose was the hitter I was most excited to face because he used to be the starting short-stop for my hometown team the Colorado Rockies back in 2015. I remember going to a game with my family down on 20th and Blake a few weeks after my summer baseball season in the Cape League had concluded. Reyes started that day for the Rockies going 1 for 4 with a single as my family and I watched from the nose bleed seats 5,280 feet above sea level. Now, 3 years later, he and I were about to tango, but who had the smoother moves…

Reyes gave me a good battle, working a full count, 3 balls and 2 strikes. I tried to be tricky by throwing him a 3-2 change-up but he stayed back just enough, fouling it off behind the 3rd base dugout. I followed that pitch up with a fastball high & inside. Being completely honest, this would have been ball four but Reyes chased it, popping up to Altuve at second. Two outs.

The third hitter I didn’t recognize but who ever he was, he made life easy, swinging at the first pitch he saw, popping it up to Springer in center field. Three up, three down and just like that my day was done. Stassi gave me a pat on the back as we made our way back towards the 3rd base dugout. He told me I did a great job and that he looked forward to catching me again in the future. I walked down the dugout stairs and shook AJ Hinch’s hand.


“Great job. Be ready to come back and visit us in a couple of days,” Hinch said.

“Absolutely sir, anytime you need me,” I responded.

Talk about living a dream… next time I just gotta remember my own first and last name.

Welcome to The Real World


Schooooooooooool’s out… FOR-EV-ER (Alice Cooper x Sandlot delivery).

Seventeen long, dreadful, traumatic years in a class room later, I have finally reached the finish line! Patiently awaiting the arrival of a sheet of paper that confirms that I, Brandon David Keith Bailey, am capable of:

  1. Utilizing the Google search engine.
  2. Plugging in complex math equations into a Texas Instrument calculator.
  3. Writing 10 page papers the night before they are due.
  4. Reading books like The Giver, To Kill a Mockingbird, and Lord of The Flies.
  5. Having a basic understanding that the mitochondria is the powerhouse of the cell.

Yes, my intellectual capabilities are quiet impressive. I mean, how many millenials do you know who can explain why performing a SWOT analysis is beneficial for a company? I’m basically a genius. Unfortunately, as much as I wish my knowledge on the 4 P’s of marketing could help me understand my W-2 and W-9 tax forms, I’m diving into adult hood head first with the hope that there’s a body of water below me.

I will say that even though I will be channeling the “fake it ’til you make it mentality” for the next few years, I’m looking forward to the new experiences that lie ahead in the real world.

For starters, I was recently traded from the Oakland A’s to the newly crowned world champion Houston Astros organization back in late November. While I’m sad to be leaving such a great group of coaches, trainers, and teammates in the A’s organization, I’m anxious to start my new journey with such a historic team such as the Astros. Arguably the best part of being traded to Houston is that I have the opportunity to once again play along side one of my former teammates and close friends at Gonzaga, Taylor Jones. Jonesy is one of the best defensive first baseman I have ever had the pleasure of playing with. In addition to his great defensive skill set, his hit tool and understanding of the strike zone are top notch. Did I mention he’s 6’7? Great target to throw at on pick-off moves. If I ever over throw him I should be cut right then and there. Along with Jonesy, some of my former Cape League teammates Brett Adcock and Stephen Wrenn also play for the Astros so it should be fun reuniting with some talented YD Red Sox.

Another minor adjustment that comes with playing for a new organization is the change in location for spring training. When I was with Oakland, spring training took place in Mesa, Arizona, just 5 minutes east of ASU’s campus and 10 minutes south of Scottsdale. This was a great place to prepare for the upcoming season due to the fact that all of the other pro baseball teams affiliated with the Cactus League were within a 1 hour radius of the A’s facility, making travel to exhibition games short and sweet. Houston however, hosts spring training in West Palm Beach, Florida and is apart of the Grapefruit League. Spring training in Florida, unlike Arizona, requires significantly more travel to-and-from exhibition games because most team’s training facilities are anywhere from 5 minutes to 4 hours away from one another. Granted, I’m sure when spring break week rolls around and all the college students fly in I’ll be able to look past the whole travel conundrum [THE POOL (Beach) HUNNIES-Sandlot]. No further explanation needed.

While there are definitely some exciting times ahead, I continue to push myself to remain in the present moment, fully aware of my surroundings, appreciating all of the blessings the universe has placed directly in front of me at this point in time. Currently, I am on a plane headed back to Spokane, Washington after a short five day trip Bradenton, Florida. Over the past 5 days, I attended the first annual Rep1 Baseball Sports Agency Athlete Summit on the campus of the IMG Academy. This was truly an honor to be invited to such an informative and memorable event. I had the opportunity to train with MLB stars such as Luis Severino, Rafael Devers, Jeimer Roasrio, Paulo Orlando, and Carlos Estevez, while also participating in various seminars that covered topics like financial planning, nutrition, and philanthropy. Not only was I impressed by the facilities that we were able to utilize at the IMG Academy but I was also amazed by Rep1’s ability to organize and execute such a well thought out event. I am truly thankful to be apart of the Rep1 family and forever grateful for their belief in me as an athlete.


As this Boeing 737 moves closer and closer to my final destination, I can’t help but reminisce about all of the memories I have acquired in Spokane over the past four and a half months of the offseason. Some experiences good, others not so much. In the end, I’m happy to say that the good memories significantly outweigh the bad. For starters, I’ve been able to spend almost every single day hanging out with some of my former college teammates and best friends Tyler Frost, Sam Hellinger, Wyatt Mills, and Justin Vernia.

We pushed one another in the weight room, binge watched The Office ’til 2am on the weekends, and attended a great Gonzaga verse Creighton basketball game back in November. We also had some intense NBA 2K18 matches on the PS4 which motivated us into taking our hoop dreams on to the hardwood for some 2 on 2 action. Needless to say, we all should stick to baseball. Although Millard (Wyatt) can dunk so that’s something.

While most of my time in Spokane this offseason has been spent studying or training for baseball, I’ve also been able to fit a part time job at Jack & Dan’s Bar and Grill into my schedule. Every Thursday, Friday, Saturday, and anytime the Gonzaga Basketball team has a home game, I’ve helped stock beer, change kegs, clean tables, and man the front door to check ID’s. Not the most glamorous part time job in the world but I’ve met a lot of great people through interactions with customers. I’ve also made some great friends in my coworkers and have acquired a few awesome stories that I can’t post about on the internet unfortunately (I work at a bar, use your imagination). IMG_0510For those of you who aren’t familiar with the Spokane area, Jack and Dan’s happens to be a Spokane landmark and is the most popular bar in town. Fun fact, the bar is owned by none other than Spokane native, Gonzaga legend, and NBA Hall of Famer John Stockton (John’s father, Jack, was one of the co-owners that the bar was named after). So if you’re ever in Spokane and looking for a place to watch the game, have a few cold ones, or eat some grub, look no further than the 509’s finest watering hole. Side note… order the Meatloaf Sandwich. It’s bomb.

While my experiences with work and friends have been some of my greatest highlights from this offseason, they ultimately fall second in line to one unrivaled blessing I was given in my final semester at GU… having the opportunity to attend college with my little sister Bri. Not only were Bri and I academic peers as a freshman and senior at Gonzaga, but we were also classmates! I’m not sure if this was a result of Bri being really smart (she was in a 300 level class during her first semester of college) or the fact that I’m not actually the genius I claimed to be a few paragraphs above… Whatever the case, we took Native American Government and Yoga together and had a great time enjoying each others

IMG_0186company. This was much needed for both of us since her and I had spent the past 3 years sporadically seeing one another throughout the year due to the fact that she was still in high school back home in Colorado and I was in college living up in Spokane. It was also nice helping her get acclimated with the college lifestyle and how it differentiates from high school. Hopefully I showed her a few tricks and one or two helpful perks of being a student at Gonzaga but I must say, having her around has not only made my time in Spokane more enjoyable but it’s also given me a peace of mind knowing my little sister has me there if she ever needed anything. Granted, I know she’s has a great support system at GU to help her if she ever needs anything once it’s time for me to pack up and head to Florida.

And on that note, with each day that passes, the offseason is drawing to a close and the season is right around the corner. While I’m sad to be putting the finishing touches on my college career, I am looking forward to what the universe has in store down the road. It’s crazy… people told me high school goes by fast and that college goes by even faster. They weren’t lying.

 “Time rolls by, the clock don’t stop. I wish I had a few more drops of the good stuff, the good times, aw but they just keep on flyin’ right on by like it ain’t nothin’. I wish I had me a pause button. Moments like those, Lord knows I’d hit it. Give myself five more minutes.” -Scotty McCreery.




One thing that never ceases to amaze me is how quickly humans can get caught up in a routine or daily schedule. With iPhones, iPads, and Surface Pro 3’s receiving our undivided attention, it seems like more and more people are forgetting to soak in all the blessings God has put in front of us on a daily basis. Things that on the surface level seem so small or insignificant that we set them off to the side. Memories that we often take for granted, thinking that it’s always going to be there for us to appreciate. I will be the first to admit that I am guilty of being glued to my technology and taking things for granted during numerous points in my life.

Over the past week, I have set aside some time to self reflect; Asking myself a set of questions, “What is my current routine? What do I like about it and what do I want to change?” With the help of family members, friends, and teammates, I have discovered that over the past 5 years, my life has been revolving around discontentment; Always looking forward to the next step, the next goal, the next phases of life. Whether that’s in baseball, school, or daily events, I am always planning for something further on down the road. This can be looked at as a positive trait as well as a negative one in terms of perspective.

For starters, I don’t think there is anything wrong with people who like to plan out their school and/or work week. This is definitely me and if you are anything like me, you probably find creating a to-do-list to be oddly satisfying. Whether it’s something as simple as turning in a homework assignment or something as complex as solving world hunger, if it’s on my list and I completed the task, you can bet your ass I crossed it off with a solid ballpoint pen (organized nerd geek for the win). This technique along with utilizing a planner to construct a strategy for my typical 9 to 5 work day ultimately directs me on a path towards: maximum productivity, erasing wasted effort, and (most importantly) eliminating wasted time. By being efficient during the set hours of the week that are designed for work, I…

1) Put myself in a position to have more free time to do fun stuff like binge watch House of Cards or talk to my family and friends on the phone.

2) Have a clear conscious that everything I needed to do in terms of “adulting” has been completed.

3) Give myself the opportunity to be in the present moment.

What I discovered over the past week is that even though I am extremely organized with my time, I am still not taking advantage of being in the present moment. Why? Because I’ve let my work mentality transfer over into my personal life. Simple fix right? Not so much (at least for me).

As a pitcher, I’ve been taught to constantly focus on the next pitch. A basic mindset that keeps me focused on the task at hand; Letting go of anything that has happened during the previous pitch, at-bat, inning, game, or even season for that matter. This mentality, in my opinion, is the leading outlook on the art of pitching simply because it forces the athlete to control what they can control and that is… the NEXT pitch. Once the ball is released from the pitchers hand, he or she has zero say in what happens next. Gravity, the umpire’s opinion, and the hitter’s decision to swing or not are all up in the air. All the pitcher can do is hope:

  1. He made a quality pitch that is difficult for the batter to hit.
  2. The hitter perceived the pitch as enticing and decided to swing (and hopefully miss).
  3. The umpire felt that the pitch was within a certain area that gave the hitter a fair opportunity to put the ball in play. Hence “the strike zone”.

If any one of these things doesn’t go the pitchers way, odds are there will be a negative outcome. It could be something as simple as the umpire calling the pitch a ball or something as catastrophic as a 3 run walk off Jimmy Jack to lose game 7 of the World Series. Regardless, it’s out of the pitchers control. Like the great Clayton Kershaw said earlier this year, “They pay me to get the next guy out,” once again, reemphasizing that pitchers (even the greatest in the world) are always looking ahead to the next pitch or the next at-bat.

On the positive side, I am aware of what I want to change. On the negative side, it’s unfortunate that it took me 5 years to come to this realization. All those times where God wanted me to just enjoy where I was currently at in life, I was looking ahead 6 months down the road. If I could do it all over again, I would praise him for the blessings of that day and let him handle all the worry, stress, and uncertainty of my future.

Again, I think it’s okay to be excited for the future. It gives us hope. But if you let what’s to come blind you from the blessings of today, your life will be driven by discontentment. A restless aspiration for improvement. When in reality, how you improve you future is giving 100% towards today.




Ever since I signed my letter of intent to participate in college athletics, my life has revolved around one thing… baseball. I speak for all my current/former professional teammates when I say that deciding to make this great sport your main source of income can be one of God’s greatest blessings but also one of life’s biggest challenges. Obstacles constantly present themselves day in and day out in professional baseball just like any other occupation. But what separates this career in difficulty from the vast majority of jobs after college is one thing… spending 6 months of the year away from loved ones, all in pursuit of making our childhood dream a reality. It’s a huge sacrifice for the player and anyone close to the player in anyway.

You see, most people are going to graduate from college with a degree that they may or may not be able to use at their first “real job”. They will settle into a place that can be familiar or completely foreign but regardless, they are settled at a permanent location. They will find an affordable apartment or small condo that they can officially call home or (for the majority of college students who are in over their heads in debt once they receive their diploma) they will move back in with their parents (hence familiar territory). Seems pretty straight forward and that’s exactly my point. For most young adults ages 21 to 25 who cross this bridge into adulthood, there is a sense of normalcy or a routine in which they can submerge themselves into. This consistent regularity of: an permanent location, interactions with coworkers, and overall social lifestyle makes it easy to start building a foundation for the next stage in life… finding someone to walk this journey with you.

Unfortunately, for most ball players, we don’t receive that same luxury. In fact, the very lack of normalcy that is associated with our job makes our lifestyle difficult to relate to for anyone that is going down the path that I described in the previous paragraph. It takes a special person support a ball player striving to achieve a dream that is so difficult to achieve. Distance apart from people that us ball players care about is something that we all juggle on a daily basis with our significant other, kids (if we have them), and immediate family members. Some players establish a serious relationship that has been in the works prior to signing a pro baseball contract while other players (like myself) try to make new found relationships work over long distance. Neither situation is easy or ideal, but for the players who are starting fresh with someone, the distance can take its toll.

In the past 72 hours my life went from potentially being one week away from having 6 months to grow in the relationship that I was currently involved in while also finishing my degree at Gonzaga to potentially 1 week away from going back to Spokane to finish my degree and focus on bettering myself as an individual because I don’t have another choice. I can use the cliches “What happened was way out of left field,” or “Life really threw me a curve,” or even “My life just did a 180,” but at the end of the day God has a plan and it’s not my job to question it.

Before I go any further, it’s important that I clarify my intentions behind this post. The last thing I want is to make this entry sound like a sob story or that I have ill will towards the person I was previously dating. If anything, it’s quiet the opposite. This person changed my life in so many ways in such a short amount of time and for that I am forever grateful. She brought me closer to my faith, gave me more confidence in myself to do anything I set my mind too, and she made me believe that a relationship with trust and faithfulness does still exist. She’s one of the greatest human beings I have ever had the privilege of spending meaningful time with and in the process, became my closest friend. She had such an impact on me that I decided I needed to pick up my laptop and write again in order to vent and process what is running through my mind. Which is significant because writing is one of my favorite things to do yet I’ve only jotted down one post this season. I truly wish her all the best and to whoever wins her heart in the future… treat her right because she deserves nothing but the very best and then some.

Now that I reeled you in with all sorts of feels (or maybe you think I’m a pathetic try hard blogger who makes a piss poor effort at a meaningful post) I can attempt to end this post on a high note. As I mentioned earlier, technically there is only 1 week left in the 2017 regular season. Which is important information to know because the current team I play for, the Stockton Ports is in a playoff push; Tied with 3 teams in our division for second place and only 1 game back of the division leader the Visalia Rawhide (minor league affiliate of the Arizona Diamondbacks). Even though classes start at Gonzaga tomorrow, I wouldn’t mind being a week or two late to school if it means I get to take the mound one more time as “The Ports make a run at the California state title!” said Tommy Everidge and Steve Connelly.

Regardless of the outcome of our playoff run, I am thankful for all the blessings God has presented me even with my current 180. He has given me the opportunity to grow as a ball player and as a person this season and for that, it was all worth it. He is also giving me the opportunity to go to the same school as my younger sister Bri for the first time since she’s been born. Words can not express how excited I am to share the Zag experience with her in the upcoming fall months! Finally, I’m thankful for all the new friendships I have made through my new teammates and coaches. When it’s all said and done, I can look back knowing that no one can take the memories of the clubhouse, dugout, and bus away from me.

And with the final line, I thought it might be nice to leave an inspirational quote from a song I am currently using as motivation to keep moving forward no matter what the situation:

“So RISE. Break the dark, piercing the night, you’re made to shine. An army of hope, bringing the world a radiant light.”- Rise by Danny Gokey.

I Hate Bus Rides


I hate bus rides, plain and simple. I don’t hate them for the countless hours of traveling on highways. I don’t hate them for the inconvenient arrival times back at our home ballpark after an 8 hour road trip. I don’t hate them due to the fact that there’s only one bathroom. For those of you who are unaware, having only one bathroom is a big deal because of the following scenario…If you have to “drop a deuce” your basically SOL. No one wants to be “That Guy” who is responsible for dropping the stink bomb which will consequently travel throughout the bus, pissing off everybody and their mom after you’ve performed your dirty deed. 35 males farting and burping in a small space is bad enough… Just imagine if someone took a sh*t that lingered until you arrived at your destination. Your only option is to focus up, squeeze your cheeks, and hold it.

Surprisingly, none of the reasons listed above are why I despise bus rides. No, I hate bus rides for one reason and one reason only… I can’t fall asleep. The majority of my teammates would probably say that if there was one person out of the group who should be able to find a comfortable position to catch some Z’s, it would be me. Why you ask? Because I’m a midget in a land of freakishly oversized giants that disguise themselves as incredibly talented baseball players. What ever happened to the good old days when guys over 6’6 dedicated their athletic ability towards making it rain on the hardwood or when guys that weighed over 220 pounds used their God given size to knock the snot out of people on the gridiron? I apologize for my short rant, I’m getting off topic. Where was I? Oh right, the reason I’m a perfect candidate to find a comfortable sleeping position is due to my 5’8 inch frame (5’10 on a good day or when I’m wearing cleats). My undersized stature allows me to maneuver myself into some creative lounging positions that my larger counterparts could not experience even if they tried. Imagine 6’7 left-hander AJ Puk finding a comfortable position to stretch out his freakishly oversized arms and legs… needless to say the man gets his own seat. Now me on the other hand, I’m fun-sized and should be taking advantage of my miniature layout, but regardless of what lounging position I decide to utilize it doesn’t matter. I CAN’T FALL ASLEEP!

Coming to terms with this unfortunate truth, I have recently turned to the essentials of staying awake: caffeine, my Beats headphones, my iPhone 6+, and my laptop. The majority of my time on the bus is spent listening to music, browsing my social media accounts, getting a few good games of Hungry Shark in, and texting my family and friends back home on the west coast. Unfortunately, at the beginning of this bus trip from Norwich, Connecticut back to Vermont, I received a text message from Verizon informing me that I’ve used 90% of my data for the month. Looks like no social media browsing for me. Instead, I decided I would begin working on my next blog post and 426 words later, here we are.

There are only 8 games left in the season and while I’m not ready for baseball to be over, I couldn’t be more excited for the next four months and what they have in store. Classes start at Gonzaga tomorrow which means I’m officially a senior in college…

Not going to lie I just spent the last 20 minutes starring at that last sentence trying to comprehend what I had just typed but inevitably, I’m a senior and I truth be told I never want to graduate. Gonzaga is my second home and I while I am currently testing the waters of what it’s like to be an adult in the real world, I’m ready to get back to school and be a normal college student where my only concern is how I’m going to pass my next Sport Law exam.

As the bus continues to make it’s way north towards Burlington, I’ve had a few songs pop up on my country playlist that have caused me to reminisce about my friends and family back home on the west coast. One song in particular is “Drink One For Me” by Jason Aldean. Every line from start to finish speaks to the way I’m feeling, reminding me of all my friends who are back up at Gonzaga celebrating the start of another semester and how I wish I could be there celebrating with them, especially my former Gonzaga Baseball teammates. While I’ve made my decision to chase my dream of playing in the MLB, I still can’t help but wonder what my life would be like if I had chosen to return to Spokane and play my senior year for the Zags. Although I don’t regret my decision, I do miss the Zag community that always made me feel like I was apart of one big family…the Zag family.

The good news is I will be returning to ZagLand in T-Minus 8 days and during those 8 days I get to do what I love most, throw baseballs.

My last outing on August 24th verse the Lowell Spinners (short-season Single A affiliate of the Boston Red Sox) was my best performance as a professional yet. I came out of the bullpen and pitched 5 innings of relief, striking out 9, and walking zero after our starting pitcher Logan Shore threw 3 solid innings before reaching his pitch count limit. Ever since Shore joined the team, he has been my favorite pitcher to watch because of how much he and I have in common on the mound.

First off, we both throw our fastball in the low 90’s and posses the ability to fill up the strike zone with 3 pitches. The change-up is the best pitch in our arsenals and we feel comfortable throwing it in any given count. We also both throw sliders and have vocalized to our pitching coach that we want to focus on improving this pitch on the days we are not pitching. I try to take as many mental notes as I can when Shore takes the mound because I am aware that we do have a lot in common and I figure if I can mirror his tendencies and how he attacks hitters, that will only help me improve as a pitcher as well. Plus, it doesn’t hurt to try and model your game after a Golden Spikes finalist…

It should also be noted that Logan Shore is one of the most humble ballplayers I’ve ever had the opportunity to play alongside and he is the definition of what it means to be a professional. He has also become one of my good friends on the team, adding to the list of great guys that I’ve had the opportunity to get to know since the June draft.

While this season with the Lake Monsters might not be one of the most memorable seasons in terms of on-field success (our record is 24-44), it is however one of my most memorable seasons because it’s my first year in professional baseball. Now if I can just master the art of sleeping on this damn bus I think I’ll be alright…




The Final Stretch


Well it’s been about 2 weeks since my last blog post and so much has happened I’m not really sure where to start… So to avoid writers block I’m just going to regurgitate my thoughts onto this post and hopefully it all makes sense.

I’ll begin with the first thing that comes to mind and that’s my 2016 Chevy Colorado pick-up truck. I recently purchased this beauty back in June shortly after being drafted and while it might be cliche to buy a brand new vehicle after signing a professional sports contract, I actually needed a way of transportation due to an unfortunate event that took place in Spokane a month earlier. With about twenty days left in spring semester, “Carrie (named after the beautiful country singer Ms. Underwood)” my 2003 Saturn L300 was stolen outside my off-campus house in the Logan neighborhood. After about a week of waiting, I received a call from the Spokane Police Department informing me that they had found my car totaled and abandon in a parking lot. Just the news I wanted to hear right before finals week and the beginning of the NCAA tournament…

Fast forward to the present and how this relates to me thinking about my new Z71, well it’s simple… This pick-up represents all of the hard work I have put in over the course of the past 12 years and I want to make it AWESOME. The truck was already sick when I drove it off the lot but since this is my first vehicle purchase ever, my plan is to go all out! I decided to have a few minor details done right off the bat which included installing a sunroof, running boards, tinted windows, and having the bed liner sprayed. Recently, I’ve been doing a lot of research on what I can do to make the truck even more jaw-dropping; Utilizing the knowledge of my cousin Matt and my new travel roommate Xavier Altamirano in order to make the best decisions in terms of performance and functionality.

Xavier or “X”, actually became my new travel roommate a couple weeks ago after Logan Shore, the A’s second round pick, arrived in Vermont and started rooming with his former college teammate AJ Puk. Puk, who was Oakland’s first round pick this year, was my original roommate on the road and has become one of my closer friends on the Lake Monsters roster. After the news broke that Shore was going to be joining the team, I had a gut feeling that Puk would want to room with Logan since they both attended the University of Florida. Naturally, I was assigned a new roommate which was Xavier. X, who was recently voted as a NY-Penn League All-Star, has become my closest friend on the team and shares my love for jacked-up trucks. This past week, he provided me with a few great tips on what I can do to improve my new toy and I’ve decided to set a plan into action. I won’t share all the details simply because I don’t want to bore the two people who are actually reading this post but I will say that a 6 inch lift is in the works!

Besides my truck, the next thing that comes to mind is my team’s previous road trip to Brooklyn, New York where we played the New York Mets Single-A affiliate the Brooklyn Cyclones on August 9th through the 11th. It has always been a dream of mine to one day travel to the Big Apple but I never would have guessed this dream would come true at such a young age. During our 3 day span in the big city, I made it a point to venture downtown to Times Square to do some sight-seeing. X, myself, and another one of my teammates Ty Damron (a left-handed pitcher from Texas Tech) decided to take the subway north towards Manhattan on the morning of our final day in Brooklyn. You could easily tell we were not from the area because we were the only people on the subway attempting to decipher the complex map which was supposed to assist us in navigating our way downtown. After about 10 minutes of head scratching we decided to ask for help and were informed that we needed to take the exit onto 42nd Street.

Anticipation and excitement continued to build up inside my chest with each minute that passed. Ever since I was old enough to comprehend the game of baseball my favorite team growing up (besides the hometown team the Colorado Rockies) was the New York Yankees. Players like Derek Jeter, Paul O’Neill, David Cone, Mariano Rivera, and Bernie Williams fueled my love for the team in pinstripes. As we moved closer to the city, I could feel my passion for Yankee tradition surfacing. After about an hour of waiting, we finally made it to our destination and quickly made our way up to ground level. The experience I had next is almost indescribable…

Never had I seen something so magnificent, vibrant, and extraordinary. There is a certain aura or ambience that flows throughout New York City; A distinctive atmosphere that is luxurious and subtle, its occupants moving at a speed that seem to be faster than Usain Bolt himself (couldn’t resist mixing in an Olympic metaphor). Surprisingly, I was not overwhelmed. In fact, I felt rather comfortable. As we began exploring what the city had to offer, I made it a point to take as many pictures as possible. I saw the New Years Eve ball drop, Central Park, the Plaza Hotel made famous by one of my favorite Christmas movies of all time Home Alone 2: Lost in New York, NIKETOWN NYC where I bought 2 new pairs of shoes, St. Patricks Cathedral, and finally the Empire State Building. For those of you who are familiar with New York City you would know that my teammates and I traveled roughly 2.5 to 3 miles on foot and let me tell you… It was worth it!

As far as baseball goes, it seems that the team is starting to get back on track. Before this weekend home-stand where we played the Tri-City Valleycats and won the series 2 out of 3, the Lake Monster’s had lost 11 games in a row. It’s not easy facing adversity over the course of a 2 week span but we persevered and continued to show up to the ballpark ready to give it our all.

I’ve been throwing the ball pretty well as of late. In my last 3 games I’ve pitched 12.1 innings and struck out 9 batters. During that span I’ve only allowed 3 runs (2 earned) on 6 hits. I’m hoping to finish the final 2 and a half weeks of the season strong so I can go into the fall semester at Gonzaga feeling confident about my first season in professional baseball. With 4 starts left, my main goal is to continue to work fast and fill up the strike zone with all 3 of my pitches. I’ve also been working on developing a spiked curveball and I’m looking forward to focusing on adding this pitch to my arsenal this off-season.

2 and a half weeks left in the 2016 baseball season…The final stretch.


It’s 1:00am…


It’s 1 o’clock in the morning here in Vermont and I’ve spent the majority of my off day doing jack sh*t…Which is typically normal for the average joe who plays baseball in the summer time like myself. Off days come few and far in-between during the months of June, July, and August, so when one of these rare (yet desperately needed) occasions presents itself, ballplayers have to take advantage.

If you’re like me, you generally spend the day sleeping in until noon and then casually taking a stroll to the kitchen to devour whatever happens to be in the fridge at that moment in time. When the stomach is full, you retrace your steps back into your bed where you open up your Macbook and watch some Netflix. This is then followed by some pointless online shopping for the newest Nike products to have hit the market in recent months. For players enrolled in summer school, you feel guilty for not touching the homework from the 6 week online course you mistakenly thought would be a cake walk back in March when you were registering for summer and fall classes. After about an hour of hell, the rest of the afternoon is yours to do whatever you so please. For me, I decided to call my mom today to see how things are going back home in Colorado. She informed me that my dad is working late tonight trying to rack up a couple extra hours in order to make up for being absent this upcoming Monday and Tuesday. My parents are flying out to Burlington to spend the weekend with me and I couldn’t be more excited! The only downside, my younger sister Bri is not going to be able to make the trip due to her busy work schedule at The Egg and I, a local brunch restaurant where she is a hostess part time.

It’s only been two and a half weeks since I last saw my family but I miss them like crazy. On Saturday, July 9th, my older cousin Matt got married in Pueblo, Colorado and I was honored to be his best man and lucky enough to even be in attendance. The week prior to the wedding, I was spending my days at Fitch Park in Mesa, Arizona at the Oakland A’s Spring Training Complex. I was playing for Oakland’s Rookie Ball team in the Arizona League and was uncertain if the A’s would be willing to give me a few days off from work in order to attend my cousin’s wedding. After throwing a side (bullpen) on July 7th, I spoke with Keith Lipman, the A’s Minor League Field Cordinator. He informed me that he was perfectly comfortable with me leaving for the wedding and casually mentioned he liked what he saw during my bullpen session. He also informed me that I was being promoted to the A’s single-A short-season affiliate the Vermont Lake Monsters and would catch a plane to Burlington on Sunday morning after the wedding.

Two and a half weeks may not seem like long time to the average person but for summer baseball players, two and a half weeks can feel like two and a half years at times. Distance and the time difference seem to be the two most difficult part about summer ball (at least for me). The past two summers I have spent 90 days of summer on the east coast playing baseball. Last summer I played in the Cape Cod Baseball League and lived in Yarmouth-Dennis, Massachusetts. This summer, I’m playing in the New York-Penn League and living in Burlington, Vermont. While the east coast is a beautiful part of the country, it does not compare to the West Coast, the Pacific Northwest, or the Colorado Rocky Mountains in my personal, biased opinion. The majority of my family and friends live on the West Coast and operate according to Pacific Standard and Mountain Standard time, a 2 hour difference from myself over on the East Coast, making it difficult for me to communicate with friends and family due to my busy schedule during the day.

I show up at the ballpark roughly around 2:00pm everyday and don’t leave the park until 10:30pm that evening. A typical day consists of: an active warm up, team game review, stretching, pitchers throwing program, conditioning, pitchers fielding practice, shagging for batting practice, grabbing a bite to eat off the spread, an individual workout with my strength coach Omar, arm care with the Lake Monster team trainer Toshi, “Suiting Up!” (or in other words put on the old uniform), sitting and watching a baseball game for 3 hours (unless I’m on a chart or pitching that day), shower, eat the post game meal, and finally…GO HOME! Not a bad work schedule for anyone who loves the game of baseball. However, by the time I return home to my host family’s house it is 11 o’clock at night and I am absolutely exhausted. My extreme fatigue would not be an issue if I played in the same time zone as my family or my girlfriend Wolfey because they would be going to bed at the same time as me. Unfortunately, it’s only 8:00pm where they are. Prime time for conversing and FaceTiming.

Since today was an off-day, I was able to catch up with my loved ones at a somewhat decent hour. As I hung up with Wolfey over our FaceTime chat at 9:00pm in comparison to our typical midnight conversations, I thought about how my summer was going. I thought about how I had just finished my book The Arm by Jeff Passan and how I was anxious for my parents to bring out more books for me to dive into. I thought about my first month in professional baseball and all of the crazy experiences I’ve already had. I thought about Gonzaga and how I missed my former coaches, teammates, and the beautiful stadium which makes up the Patterson Baseball Complex. I thought about Nike and how I passed up on an opportunity to be an intern at their world headquarters in Beaverton, Oregon in order to chase the dream of hopefully one day playing in the big leagues. I thought about how different professional baseball is in comparison to the college game. I thought about what my future plans and goals for this offseason would be. I thought about the academic fall semester at Gonzaga and how it conflicts with the Arizona Instructional League in late September and early October. I thought about my signing bonus and how I’ve never been one to bitch or complain about taxes until I received my first of two bonus checks in the mail last week. I thought about pay day and how I needed to save every dime I can to pay for gas and food this fall. With all of these thoughts running through my mind as I lay in bed unable to sleep, I decided now was as good of time as ever to start something that I have been contemplating doing for about 2 years.

I’ve never been one to share my personal thoughts and experiences with more than a handful of people but I feel like this journey through professional baseball is one that I have to document. Being a Gonzaga student, I try to focus on developing my mind, body, and spirit which is part of the University’s core values and principles. Baseball has done a great job of developing my body but recently, I feel like I have been laking in the development of my mind and spirit. Maybe the best way to get the intellectual juices flowing would be to write about my experiences here in pro ball? And as I look at the time it’s 2:44 in the morning and 1,328 words later.

I guess there is no better time than the present to start doing the things you want to do and being the person you want to be.