“There’s Always Right Field!”

            “There’s always right field!” Coach Tedesco yelled to me as we made our way off the diamond. It was the most beautiful day of the year thus far, not a cloud in the sky. The smell of fresh cut grass filled the early spring air. The warm air and cool breeze made it an outstanding day for a baseball game. However, it was not the perfect day for playing baseball. In fact, it was one of the worst days for a baseball game I had ever experienced. I had just dropped a fly ball and was becoming frustrated with my performance as well as with the team's. This buildup of frustration had brought me to make a decision that I had never thought I would make. The long season was coming to an end and for the first time in my life I was actually excited to get off the field and out of the locker room.

            I remember playing catch with my dad in the front yard of our small Queens home.

"Dad, can you throw me some fly balls?" I would ask.

"Not until you catch some grounders and line drives first." He was grooming me to be an infielder, a third baseman, but I had always had more interest in the outfield.

Afternoon games at the Forest Hills Little League fields filled my Saturday schedule for years. I still recall the long walk up the dirt road to the upper fields. The smell of hot dogs and pretzels made me salivate every time I walked by the snack bar. Along with the other two Gregs on my team, I filled the heart of the lineup and took my place at third base. I had made multiple appearances in the annual all-star game and was a promising star of the competitive league.

I remember the excitement I felt when I was told that I had been scouted by the manager of Marshall's, a perennial contender for the championship in the division for boys 2-3 years older than I was.

“We have been watching you play and are interested in having you play for us,” the coach’s assistant told me. I was speechless. All I wanted to do was play ball on the beautiful field that the older players got to play on.

            Before I got a chance to play for the Marshall's team, my family moved to Port Washington where I was excited to continue my baseball career at Lyon's Field. In my first year, I was not expected to be an impact player because not many coaches had heard of me so I was placed on a team as a line up filler. Instead, I became a star player on the Mets and helped take my team to the league championship. I was quickly becoming acknowledged as a skilled player and the following year I was picked much earlier in the arbitrary player draft.

            Middle school came around and I was excited to play for a school team and for my town. Many years before, I had been offered the opportunity to play for travel teams, but vacations and summer camp took me away from that experience. Unfortunately, my Bar Mitzvah kept me from playing baseball in seventh grade but in eighth grade I came out for third base, but was moved to the outfield, a change I had always hoped for. Against Manhasset, a big rival of ours, the starting centerfielder was injured and I was moved from my left field spot. In that game I made five spectacular plays in the outfield and hit a game tying double, eventually leading to our victory in extra innings. Our Weber Spartan team was successful, finishing with a 10-1 record, and I ended the season with an unheard of .585 batting average. That would be the last time I enjoyed success and triumph as a result of baseball.

            Freshmen year of high school meant a much more demanding year of baseball, starting in early March and not ending until June, but I was excited for the great increase in the number of games we would be playing. Unfortunately, that excitement would quickly deteriorate. We began the season slowly and it only got worse. We lost the first scrimmage, and then the next, and five more after that. Finally we would defeat Great Neck South in a scrimmage but that would be our last victory of the year. Out of the remaining few scrimmages, non-league games, and league games, we would not win a single one.

The frustration of the season all culminated in one big disappointment on that dreadful day in Hicksville. Following an error in centerfield, Coach Tedesco would yell to me, "There's always right field!" For any person knowledgeable of baseball, this would be an insult and I took it rough. I decided on that day, with only three games left against East Meadow, that this would be my last year playing baseball. My disappointing experiences with my performance as well as with Coach Tedesco made me realize that the game was no longer fun. I was playing only to prove that I could, and not for my own enjoyment.

            Baseball had been my athletic life. I had dabbled in other sports, including four years of hockey, a year of lacrosse, a few years of football, and playing golf recreationally, but there was no other sport that I had concentrated on for so long like I had for baseball. I realized that my focus on baseball might have been a waste. My high hopes and goals had disappeared along with my desire to play. Despite the disappointment of my final year, I am able to understand the influence of sports on a young athlete’s life and can appreciate the lessons I learned from my parents and coaches as I was brought up as not only an athlete, but as a person. Unfortunately, my enjoyment from playing baseball ended at the end of my freshmen year, but I still realize that my painful decision to quit was for the best.