May 10th, 2022
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It didn't take long, however, for our team to realize that there was definitely room for improvement. I was personally putting up good numbers: in the first month, I batted .350 with 10 home runs. I had also managed 5 stolen bases and several walks. However, one player cannot contribute for the entire team- we had a 5-15 record by the beginning of May, having lost 5 in a row. The other players and the media continued to center it around me and whether I could get the team out of the skid. In interviews, I continually shook my head and responded by saying, "I'm glad I'm doing well, but we're trying to work together as a team. It's not just me who needs to play good ball, but it's the whole team."
The pressure from my family, team, and media really started to get to me in the month of May. In the first game of the month against the Rising Stars, I went 0-4 with 2 strikeouts- Not good. We lost the game 5-1, our only run coming off an RBI single by Mike Harris. To me, it felt like every pitcher was throwing much harder to me, and that I couldn't keep up. This wasn't true, but this thinking led me into a slump at the plate. For the next few games, I went hitless, racking up K after K. The manager Jackson finally had to talk to me after another loss to the Nashville Chargers; he asked me to step aside in the clubhouse.
"James, are you doing okay?" is the first question he asked me.
"Am I?" I shot back unnecessarily. "I don't know what I'm doing wrong, but it for sure is not helping!"
He put a hand up. "That's true, but-" he sighed before continuing, "what was your mindset heading into the beginning of the season?"
I furrowed my eyebrows in thought. "Well, I guess I was aggressive. Excited to play ball, too. Now it all seems too much- the pressure being put on me."
"I'll admit, the team has put very high expectations on you. But we're here to have fun, not to get frustrated that we're 5 and 15. Yes, we are professionals, but we shouldn't let outside influences dictate how we play. I want you to think aggressive again, and I want you to take control at the plate. I know you can do it, man."
I nodded, "Okay." I sighed, realizing he was right. If I was going to play well, I would need to return to my routine and mindset; above all, I would need to have fun doing it. I left for the hotel a few minutes after our conversation and threw myself down on the bed almost right away. I eventually fell asleep, thinking about what Jon had told me.
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May 11th, 2022
I was roused awake the next morning by the ringing of my phone. "Ugh... who's calling?" I picked it up off the nightstand with one hand to read it was my father; he had been out in New Orleans for a while for two home series with the Rising Stars. "Hey, w-why are you calling me this early?" I started.
"I need you to get to Miami, right now." He shouted into the phone. "Your mother is in the hospital."
I shot up. "What the hell happened!?" I asked.
"I don't know, but I just got a call from the hospital a minute ago," he said, "you need to get down there as soon as possible."
"Ok... even if I could, we're supposed to play today..." I responded, very much taken aback, "I need to talk to Jon about it. I can't just leave on a flight to Miami right now!" At this point I was out of bed and had put my father on speaker so I could get ready for the day. "You can't just leave, either- you've got a professional team in your hands," I added.
He sighed, "You're right. We need to get down to Miami at some point soon, though. I'll see you soon."
After he hung up, I sighed. We were both still in New Orleans, and we would be playing against each other later that day. I made sure not to forget that I needed to talk to the manager, though, as I was genuinely worried about mom.
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