But my return to baseball was not smooth. When the season rolled
around, I was the only junior to be cut from the varsity baseball team.
I was sent down to play with the sophomores on junior varsity. I had
been playing since age four, and for someone who had spent so much
time and effort on the sport, getting cut was humiliating. I vividly
remember the day it happened. I sat in my car and cried as I flipped
through the radio, desperately searching for a song that would make
me feel better.
After a year of self-doubt, I managed to make the varsity team as a senior, but I rarely made it on the field. In total, I played eleven innings of high school varsity baseball, barely more than a single game.
Despite my lackluster high school career, I still believed I could become a great player. And I knew that if things were going to improve, I was the one responsible for making it happen. The turning point came two years after my injury, when I began college at Denison University. It was a new beginning, and it was the place where I would discover the surprising power of small habits for the first time.