The Tiny Fly

January 17, 2011
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Imagine standing in line for minutes that seem like hours. Waiting. Shaking. Trying to stay loose and not lose your lunch. Standing with kids that make you look like a tiny fly, a tiny fly that they could swat away with a simple wave of the hand. Kids with muscles so huge that they’re scary. Kids that look like they could eat you. Then there’s me…not too big, only a buck eighty, tall and gangly, trying to showcase the same skills and out do these “man-children.” Then it’s my turn. I jog up, still shaking. I realize there’s something scarier than the gigantic muscles. Being a tiny fly, I’m more scared of the fly swatter. The big group of coaches all sitting with their radar guns, stopwatches, clipboards, and fancy pullovers. Watching. Analyzing. Their beady little eyes looking at every minute detail. It’s the fly swatter that can crush you. You’re either crossed off their list, or you’re spared and seen as “special.”

This is what I go through all year. What I go through at every college baseball showcase. Asking myself the same questions…What’s going to make them like me? How am I “special” compared to the others? There are a billion names on their sheet. What’s going to make mine stick out? Having the same thoughts…I’m not good enough. All these other kids are better. No one is going to want me. But I always figure out what I have to do. Perform. Do anything. Do everything. Run fast. Throw hard. Hit the ball a mile. Show some hustle. My size will dictate nothing. My talent will do the contrary.

I’ve realized life is a showcase. We’re all tiny little flies. The people who pass judgments on us are the fly swatters. I am Daniel Timothy. What makes that name “special?” What makes that name different? What makes it better or worse? The truth is no name is different. It’s a name. Something used to identify you. It’s the person that makes the name “special.” I take the same approach as I would in a showcase. I perform. I’ll talk how I want, dress how I want, say what I want, and do what I want. I’ll be me. Then I’ll let those fly swatters decide if they think I’m “special” or not. If not, they can go ahead and squash me. What do I care though? I’ll be the one to define me. I’ll make Daniel Timothy special.

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