Whether you are 10 years old, 20 years old, or even 60, there always comes a point in our lives where we have to stop playing the sport we love so much. I had to give up my sport at the age of 19, and it was no easy task. That sport is baseball, and it really has been the love of my life ever since I was four years old. Growing up, I always had the goal to reach to the Major Leagues, and play for the New York Yankees. As I got older, I realized that goal was not going to happen - it was not my destiny. However, I tried to reach another goal - to play college baseball. It really did not matter where I just wanted to be given the opportunity to play the game that loved me as much as I loved it. Luckily, the coaching staff at Allegheny College decided to give me that chance and I could not be more grateful for that opportunity.
It all started when I was 12 years old. I just hit a simple line drive down the third-base line, As I had done so many times before, I decided to round first and go for second-base. All of a sudden, it felt like a knife was being stabbed into my hip. I didn't know what was happening, and I could not walk to get back to first-base. Later on, in the week, I was diagnosed with what I was told as a "torn hip flexor." I really did not know what that meant, I just knew it hurt like hell to walk anywhere. As weeks and months went by, it became easier and easier to walk. Eventually, I was able to get back to playing baseball.
Between the ages of 13 and 18, I had always felt pain in my hip. It never felt right, especially if the temperature was below 50 degrees (which does not help when you live in Pennsylvania). My senior year of high school, we were playing a game where it was about 25 degrees. From the start of the game, my hip never felt loose at all that game. It kept getting worse and worse. Until I hit a ball to center field, and rounded as if I was going to second base. Again, I felt a knife being stabbed in my hip. I thought I could push through it, as I had so many times before. This time was different, though. Eventually, we went to go get what was about the fourth MRI on my hip, this time I had the dye injected. After a couple weeks, it was discovered that I had actually torn my labrum in my hip as well as needed to get 2 millimeters of bone shaven off. I required surger, and was completely devasted. At the time, I had a choice on whether or not to stop playing baseball or have the surgery and recover. Almost a year and a half after the surgery, I would still choose to have that surgery and fight like hell to continue playing the game I love.
June 23, 2015. That was the day of my surgery. It was a long day in the hospital. We were there for about 15 hours! The next day though it was time to get to work and begin the road to recovery. Normally it takes about six months to recover from this kind of surgery, and it was going great at first until about 3 months into the physical therapy. I got through it, but then the real problems started happening right after I got cleared after six months of physical therapy.
All through the winter and spring, I battled to get back into baseball shape. However, nothing was the same. My speed wasn't there and that's what I relied on the most. After playing a total of about 15 games between spring and summer, I was forced to hang up my cleats forever. I was hurting my team as well as myself because I just was not the same player as before, and it was forcing me to not enjoy baseball as much.
This was the hardest decision of my life. There are days where I wish that I hadn't given up it. Hell, maybe I'm not done. I loved this game for 15 years even though it sure did kick my butt. I had my time of my life out on that field, and I don't regret anything I ever did playing baseball. I've made so many memories and friends from this game, it sure was one heck of a ride.
I would just like to say thank you to everyone that supported me along this journey. There are so many people I could name, but to keep it short I would like to thank Coach Swiney, Coach Gary Wilson, Coach Alex Howson and Coach Tom Davis for everything they have done. Oh, and I can't forget all the parents and step-parents that were there for me.
It is a truly sad day when you decided to hang up your cleats, no matter how old you are. Just remember, everything happens for a reason.
