People used to tell me growing up that baseball would make me a man. That it would be the foundation for who I would become.
 
This is a lofty thought for a five-year old to understand or even care about.

When you were more worried about playing with dirt or watching the butterflies flutter through the field,
the future seemed dumb to even mention.
 
They used to tell me that at the end of the day, it wouldn't be the stat book, the strikeouts (which I sure had my share),
the errors in the field, or even the home runs (or lack thereof) that I would remember.
 
They used to tell me that it would be the people, the memories,
the little moments where things work out perfectly even when I mixed up the signs, the teams and teammates,
and coaches that would make this game mold the man I would become.
 
They used to say that,

"You win some, you lose some, and sometimes you get rained out."
 
They used to say nothing on long car rides home after a blowout defeat
only to leave a sandwich on the kitchen table with potato chips and a glass of water after you showered.
 
They used to be upbeat for you before a game and be proud of the man you were becoming.
   

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. Kylie Young - Women's Lacrosse (5/6) Kate Mozzochi - Track and Field (5/13)

People used to show me how to swing, what players to watch, how to work harder than everyone,
how to be a leader, how to help people through the game, how to help people in the game.
 
They used to show me how to act when losses hurt, how to take a beating, how to recover, and how to overcome.
 
They showed me that I wasn't supposed to rub it when I was drilled with a pitch.
I'm still not sure why I wasn't supposed to, but I know I will one day tell my kid the same thing.
 
They showed me that crying wasn't allowed on the field, except we all did it sometimes.
 
They showed me that there was a right way to do things and that there was a wrong way to do things.
 
They showed me the game was bigger than I was.
 
Far bigger.
 
They used to.

They sure used to.
 
Now I am no longer the boy they were talking to, but the man who has grown into one of the "they's" to tell you how to play.
 
To any of you still playing, I challenge you to treat every day like it's your last.
 
I was always told this, but how could I have known that an up-and-in-hanging curve ball would strike me out looking
and I would walk back to the dugout for the last time?

I couldn't have known that, but I am now a "they" telling you to enjoy it.

To cherish it.

All of it.
 
To any of the seniors I will soon graduate with:
Thank you for bringing me in with open arms to this once-foreign land
and being a part of what makes me the person I am today.
 
Thank you for having my back.
 
Most of all though, Thank you for being good people.
 
You are all the reason that I got through these four years.
 
To any coaches reading this: 
You all have taught me how to conduct myself in a changing world.
 
I often find that people who have been there, done that, are usually the best ones to talk to about anything.
Well, you all have grown up, and I hope to follow in your footsteps as people, family members and leaders.
 
Thank you for all you have done for me.
 
Lastly, To my family: 
You guys are the glue that keeps me together, the greatest role models I could ask for,
but most of all, you guys are the best people I could ever ask to be my family.
 
I am not usually the most sentimental person,
so it's difficult to express my appreciation to each of you, but know it's immense.


People used to tell me that baseball would make me a man.
 
I now realize that it wasn't baseball that made me a man. It was the people.
 
Thank you to those people who have made me the man I am becoming and to baseball for allowing them to do so.
You know who you are. My best wishes to everyone.
 
Oh, and don't forget to stop and smell the roses or the grass of the field or whatever you want to call it.
 
Enjoy it, it doesn't last forever.