Written by Zach Grossfeld

“Ego needs honors in order to be validated. Confidence, on the other hand, is able to wait and focus on the task at hand regardless of external recognition.” - Ryan Holiday (Ego Is The Enemy, pg. 134)

As a closer in baseball, you are the man.

No one can fuck with you, at least that’s what you think.

When the time comes, the coach hands you the ball and hopefully doesn’t take it away from you until the last batter is retired. 1-2-3, a closer’s dream.

You sit down the side in order, and if you’re feeling extra sexy that day, you end it on a strikeout.

For a while, I closed as a pitcher in college baseball. I felt like the man. I was the man. A couple of times, I even got recognized by the conference for my performance.

The job was simple.

Rear back, throw the shit out of a two-seam fastball, then back it up with a nasty slider.

As a lefty who could sit comfortably in the upper 80s and occasionally touch 94, I felt like a God in the Atlantic 10 College Baseball League.

For 18 months as a sophomore and junior, no one could touch me.

Then, my nerve started to go. Without diving into detail, I had two ulnar nerve transposition surgeries. The pain rose to the point of feeling like I got stabbed in the elbow every time my arm cocked back to throw a baseball.

After the second surgery, I returned to be a serviceable pitcher, though nowhere near my sophomore self. But after the first surgery had failed, I decided to alter my throwing motion to pitch without pain.

My whole life, I had thrown over-the-top, like a football quarterback. But when over-the-top was no longer an option, I decided to drop my arm slot down to sidearm, then eventually submarine.

I threw much slower, in the upper 70s, low 80s, and no longer was the most effective closer on the team. But something I was extremely effective at was getting left-handed batters out.

My lower arm slot combined with a pitching motion where I threw across my body made the baseball very hard to pick up for left-handed hitters. Imagine someone that looks like they’re about to throw a baseball right at you, and then it crosses the plate for a strike. That was me.

It wasn’t a sexy role.

I fucking hated it, at first.

Many times, I’d face one or two batters per series, then get taken out immediately after the job was done.

I had two options. One, I could say, “Fuck this job, I want to go back to being a closer. I am better than this role.” Or two, I could say, “This is my role, and I will accept the task that the coach has given me. Not only will I accept it, but I will be the best lefty specialist I can be.”

After much inner struggle, I chose the latter.

Facing a couple of batters here and there, I wouldn’t get written up in articles, I wouldn’t receive conference accolades, and none of the fans would probably give a shit about me.

But, I still had a job to do.

When the dust settled, I ended up with a pretty solid season and started to enjoy my new throwing motion. You could even say that I grew confident.

Ego needs honors in order to be validated.

My ego was telling me, “You’re better than this job. No one will care if you do well at this job. You deserve more.” No, I didn’t. My situation had changed, and I needed to embrace that change.

Focus on the task at hand regardless of the recognition.

Are there things in your life that you are doing only for the hopes of recognition? How can you better block out the validation and focus on the task at hand? What is your ego telling you? What is it that you know you have to do?

It’s a daily battle to quiet the ego.

Don’t feed it.

Fight it.

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