"This is the moment you dream of as a child playing whiffle ball in the backyard. The game on the line in the final inning with everything to play for."
 

I was four years old when I stepped onto a baseball field for the first time.

It was the summer before kindergarten that my parents signed me up for day camp at the local little league fields. I remember refusing to do anything with the rest of the kids. After several attempts from the counselors and coaches, I gave in and agreed to play catch with them and have an at bat.

After a few minutes, I walked off the field and demanded to go home.

My parents were devastated when they came to pick me up. I told them I hated baseball. I was never going to play again.

My mom began to cry, which did not make sense to me until years later when I began to understand what the game meant to her and the rest of my family.
 
My grandfather played professional baseball for the Brooklyn Dodgers alongside Jackie Robinson and Roy Campanella in the 1950's. Even though I never met him myself, I always knew that I had a special connection with him growing up.

That family bond inspired me to make it to where I am today.
 
It was not until nearly a year later that I finally decided to give baseball another chance.

My neighbors came knocking on my door asking if I wanted to play whiffle ball. I remember asking my mom if I could go play, unsure of what the game was. I grabbed a bat, walked up to the plate, and swung at the very first pitch. The bat made contact with the ball and I sprinted to first base. I looked up at my house and saw my mom in the window smiling from ear to ear.

That was it. I was hooked for life and obsessed with the game in every way imaginable.
 
Fast forward 13 years and here I am living out every little leaguer's dream.

I made it to the highest level of amateur baseball, a Division I baseball player at Lafayette College. My decision to come to Lafayette to play baseball was a fairly easy one for me. I had visited dozens of colleges across the country, but none of them made me feel more at home than Lafayette.

Every student-athlete to ever play Division I sports knows the mental and physical grind you must endure during your first year. What I did not realize was that the grind does not go away after the first year, but would continue for the rest of my college baseball career.
 

The Finish Line
The Finish Line is a special series on GoLeopards.com consisting of first-person stories written by graduating student-athletes, reflecting on their Lafayette experience. For full coverage of this weekend's graduation ceremonies, visit the link below. Commencement Home Page

The first two years of baseball at Lafayette were full of ups and downs. At one point, things started to get bad, and I began to question myself, my abilities, and my role on the field. Sometime in the spring of my sophomore season I took a step back from everything and reminded myself that I am a 19-year old playing the game of baseball at one of the country's most prestigious liberal arts colleges.

That was the moment that I turned my career around and began to make an impact for our team.
 
 What I have learned over my four years is that baseball is a funny game. You have to play every game like it's your last and you never know when that last at bat may come.

After a productive fall season, I was ready to become one of the program's everyday starters. I was proud knowing that all of my hard work was going to pay off with the opportunity to compete every day. But that pride didn't last long.

During the opening weekend at Davidson, I broke my hand, limiting my time to a fraction of what I had hoped. The break required surgery, which would have ended my season, but I refused to let that happen.

I wore a cast for five weeks, and once the doctor cleared me for activity, I was back on the field ready to continue my campaign. Although the break did not heal, I did not let this hinder me ability to help my team and teammates on the field. I decided I was going to play as much as I could for the remainder of the season.
 
Going into my fourth and final season, I pushed aside all the goals and aspirations that athletes have, whether we admit it or not.

The only thing I wanted from my senior year was to stay healthy for a full season and have the ability to give my teammates 100 percent effort.
 
I could not have asked for a better senior year in all aspects of the game.

As the season drew to an end and playoffs began, the thought that every player dreads began to creep into my mind. I was beginning to worry "this could be it, my very last at bat."

On Sunday, May 12, we found ourselves down 2-1 entering the bottom of the ninth against Navy.

Knowing I was due up third that inning, I was locked in and ready for whatever came my way. After Spencer Rouse led off the inning with a walk, I walked out to the on-deck circle. The 30-foot walk felt like the longest walk of my life as my entire baseball career flashed before my eyes.

By the time I snapped back to reality, I had realized it was my turn to hit with one out in the bottom of the ninth and a chance to win the game, forcing a decisive game three that could send our team to the Patriot League finals.
 

VILLA TIES IT UP! #RollPards #LafayetteNine pic.twitter.com/0U1EGMD0wN

— Lafayette Baseball (@LafayetteBsbl) May 12, 2019

 
This is the moment you dream of as a child playing whiffle ball in the backyard. The game on the line in the final inning with everything to play for.

As I walked up to the plate, the only thing in my head was the confidence that at the very least I was going to force extra innings. After falling behind in the count, I stepped out of the box, took a deep breath and said a quick prayer to my grandparents. When I stepped back into the box everything went silent.

The next thing I knew, I was hitting a breaking ball and running out of the box for an extra-base hit.

I pulled up into second base, looked around the field and took a deep breath. I took everything in one last time just in case that was the last time I would be out there. I looked into the dugout and saw Michael Landry running out to run for me. I jogged into the dugout, where my teammates bombarded me with hugs and high fives.

As you can see in the video, the ball hit the top of the wall and I missed hitting a walk-off home run by about three feet.

Unfortunately, we didn't score again in that inning and ended up coming up short in extra innings. Here I was out of the game, a spectator, unable to make any impact on the remainder of the game. I was hoping and praying that my teammates would find a way to score a run and force a game three. Unfortunately, after 12 strong fought innings our season ended. That moment was my last at bat and my last time on the field. Just like that, my career came to an end.
 
 My family has supported me the most throughout my career.

Seeing my mom and sisters in the stands always gave me a little more encouragement. Words cannot explain how grateful I am to see my dad travel across the country to watch every game this past season.

I speak on behalf of my entire team when I thank Luke, my brother, for being a great bat boy and an even better fan.
 
To Spencer, Dan, Jon, Andrew, David, Connor, and Kyle:

Thanks for being there for me and for each other the past four years. You all made 6:30 a.m. lifts, practices on Fisher in snow storms and long days at Metzgar worthwhile.

I wouldn't want to have gone through this with any other group of guys.
 
To Dave George:

The rest of us wish your arm would have hung in there for a few more seasons, since you were always one of the most dedicated and motivated teammates I have ever played with.

Thanks for being a great roommate and supporter.
 
 As I think about graduation this weekend, I prepare myself to move on to the next chapter of my life.

Although I may be leaving the Hill, the memories created with my teammates will last a lifetime.

Baseball has taught me so many lessons throughout my life: resilience, teamwork, discipline and trust, to name a few. But most importantly, it taught me how all good things come to an end. And with that, my last piece of advice:

Make every opportunity, every practice, every game, every at bat count. You never know when it may be your last.
 
#RollPards