Utility Fielder

7 12 2007

I played baseball for 8 years growing up. LOVE THE GAME. However, I fell victim to a dangerous disease through my 8 years of ball… Coach’s son-itis. This is the terrible disease that usually only strikes in little league and is when you manage to play the same position as the coaches son on a team. The symptoms of this illness are as followed:

Frustration

Fatigue (from running after the missed grown balls that go through daddy’s boy’s legs)

Confusion

**If symptoms last more than four games, consult assistant coach and learn how to play another position

I literally ended up playing all nine positions in my time. I even pitched a game until I was taken out for hitting 2 batters (I faced 4)

However the idea of being able to play anywhere was something I liked, and that theme followed me. I wanted to be able to do it all. In high school I was in band, drama, speech and debate as well as many other organizations that accepted members that wanted to run themselves ragged.

All this activity led up to a defining moment in my young life. A conversation I had with my advisor, Mr. Supancic. Now I’m not usually known for my good long-term memory, and I can’t tell you when he said this to me, but I remember the absolute emptiness I felt afterwards. This is how the conversation went… abbreviated:

Mr. S – “Aaron you are a jack-of-all-trades”

Aaron – (satisfied and somewhat smug look arises on face)

Mr. S – “But a master of none.”

I now know this is a tired old expression, but at the time, it could have come from Solomon himself. My secret was out. I really wasn’t good at anything, just loud enough at a lot of things so that people thought I must be talented, or smart or above average because, hey, they see me around a lot, I mean I had the most pictures in my senior year book for goodness sake!

But after putting years of thought into this though I have come to a different conclusion than I originally expected. At first I figured that I had to bare down and pick exactly where I wanted to be and what I wanted to do. But I’ve realized that’s not good enough. The true dagger in the statement isn’t simply the master-of-none. It’s the jack-of-all-trades part.

Simply put, I want to be the master of all trades. The guy who can operate successfully in any situation and doesn’t have to B.S. his way by, but gets by through his knowledge of how the world operates and to make it work for you.

I’m not there, I probably won’t ever BE there. But I’m closer, and I’m definitely not in little league anymore.