My career as a baseball player was short, limited to a year of tee ball and a year of “real” baseball around age 6. I think I played second base and outfield. After that I took a break from the sport until junior high, when my parents told me about a pitcher named Nolan Ryan. Big Tex. The legendary flamethrower who happened to pitch for the local MLB club. I went to a few games with the family and started watching on TV.

The more I watched, the more fascinated I became, largely with the pitchers. The guy on the mound had so many options – location, spin, speed, delivery, even illegal tricks. Some guys like Nolan relied largely on their fastball, hoping to blow the ball past the batter. Some guys like Maddux had outstanding control, walking very few and placing the ball exactly where they wanted it. Some guys threw lots of breaking balls or exotic stuff like knuckleballs. Some guys like Clemens could do pretty much everything. Adding to the complexity was the skills, tendencies, and handedness of each batter. Some batters liked it high and fast, while others jumped on a curveball away or a slider inside. Much of the game’s drama came from the battle between pitcher and batter: part physical, part mental, part luck. Which one would guess right? Which one had the stuff to beat the other? Which one would blink?

Although I never really learned how and don’t have any particular ability for it, I still think it would be fun to be a pitcher. The batter steps into the box, and I reach into my bag o’ tricks for the right pitch. Heat high and tight to rattle his cage? A nice hard forkball in the dirt to make him feel foolish? A slider on the outside corner to prove I can throw strikes instead of walking him?

At some point I made the connection between pitching in baseball and serving in tennis, a sport that I play. I apply some of the same principles to my serve: looking for my opponent’s weak areas, moving the ball around, changing the speed and spin to keep him off balance. After all, even a 100mph fastball or 130mph serve can be sent right back at you if your opponent knows exactly what to expect every time.

Unless Brenden decides to give baseball a try, I might never pick up a glove again, but pitching is still fun to think about and just as fun to watch. I get so jazzed when I see highlight reels of strikeouts, especially when the batter goes down swinging and misses the ball by a foot. I saw Nolan do it over and over and over again, and it still gives me chills.