Edmund Kayhko

“You are a human being before a baseball player, baseball is a hobby and the results do not define you.”

It was a fairly warm day in North Carolina as I woke up to my alarm with that ecstatic feeling that I knew I had something to prove and today was an opportunity to show what I am truly capable of. The night before I had been preparing for this outing doing my usual mobility routine followed by a shower and then 10 minutes of meditation before bed just like always. This night was no different than any other night before an outing in the past, this was until I began to meditate and that night I could not ignore the overwhelming negative thoughts about what may happen the next day. Although I have always experienced anxiety and nerves about playing the game of baseball they were always positive and helped me perform but this time it was just too much. That night I decided that I wouldn’t give a second thought to these negative and irrational thoughts so I drank a glass of water, took some deep breaths and went to bed in preparation for my outing the next day. To my surprise I woke up the next morning feeling good about the game that day and how I was going to perform but this only made me second guess myself, little did I know that this would be the first time I would truly start to feed those negative thoughts and even believe them for a few seconds before snapping myself out of it. Instead of feeding into positivity I couldn’t help but notice the negative thoughts start to grow that day.

We won the game that day 4-1 and I had gotten my first save opportunity as well as my first save without allowing a run in the 9th. From the outside this may have looked like an alright outing for me but in my head I knew that “it” (as Rick Ankiel refers to it in his book “The Phenom”) had got me. During that outing I vividly remember the first wild pitch I threw. After getting the first batter to strike out on 5 pitches I toed the rubber to get the next guy but I couldn’t help but notice that something was off. The floodgates of my brain had opened and for the first time I started to consciously think about each part of my delivery on the mound, was it my arm path? Am I getting into a good hinge? Am I getting over my front leg? Or maybe even how my hands are breaking? I had never thought of this while pitching before as I was used to picking up my sign rearing back and throwing a fastball by the batter or breaking off a slider that was sure to fool the batter. The first pitch I threw to the second batter of the inning soared behind him and two feet above his head, this is something I’ve never done before, this is something I have never felt in my 18 years of playing this game. For the first time in my life it felt as if I couldn’t command the baseball and the baseball was commanding me. With the help of my defense and god I somehow was able to finish the inning and record the save without allowing a run, but in the process I walked three batters and threw six wild pitches and that was six more than I had thrown in years. After the game I had to keep my head up around my teammates as I did not wanna bring any of them down after a win but when I got in the car to go home I knew “it” had gotten me and I felt as if my whole identity had been crushed. I felt as if everything that I had worked for in my career was gone and I was not sure what I was gonna do but I knew one thing, I will not quit no matter what. Just six months prior I was popping low 90’s  on my fastball with the confidence and command of all 4 of my pitches with schools reaching out left and right but now what? I had some Division 2 interest and that was it. At the time I felt like I had failed the younger me and while that hurt, it was nowhere near the pain I would bear from the thoughts that I would endure about failing all of my loved ones including my parents, friends, teammates, and coaches. I had many sleepless nights ending up in frustration because what I once used as an escape had turned into a living nightmare. I thought that “this too shall pass” but unfortunately it never passed, it actually began to grow inside of me and as I could feel not only my control of baseball slip away but also my identity. That season I finished with a staggering ERA of 15.66, as I watched my identity fade away and it felt as if it was replaced with newfound anxiety and depression. Throughout my life I have experienced minor anxiety and depressive bouts but this was nothing like that, this time was different. At this time in my life I let the anxiety and depression win, I let it control me and it was debilitating at times. After the season I had decided to take the summer off and not even think about baseball because I was not sure how much more I could take. Not only had I been carrying the burden of guilt that my friends, family, and teammates would be ashamed but I was also starting to hate the game that I once loved, the game that was my escape from the world where I could relieve stress and not amplify it by 100. For the first time in my life I felt stuck and I was fighting a battle because on one hand I loved baseball but on the other I began to hate pitching and would dread going out there on the mound all 7 days of the week regardless of how relaxed the situation may have been or how good my body felt. I did not know what to do so I figured taking time off competing and just training my body until burnout would fix the issue and I came to find out that I was very wrong, I was ultimately just dragging out the inevitable and waiting for the storm to strike. I returned that fall to the second junior college that I attended and nothing was different except for the pressure to succeed and prove myself had felt like it tripled in size. After continuous bad outings that fall and into early spring I could not help but think about giving up or giving in. It was at this point that I had a choice to make if I wanted to stay in this game and that was to completely stop pitching and convert back to a position player that I had originally been entering college. I knew that my success on the mound was over, maybe not forever but at least for now. Now through all my years of baseball I have always been confident in hitting a baseball, not to mention that if you fail 7 out of 10 times in baseball you are a hall of famer while if you fail 7 out of 10 times pitching you won’t last a year in any competitve level of baseball.

            One day at practice in the spring of 2023 I was out there throwing with the pitchers in left field feeling defeated and could not help but notice the position players taking rep after rep off of the machine as well as working in ground balls and fly balls during that time. I understand that it is all about perspective but as I gazed over the position players that day I felt off, I felt as if that's where I should be instead of with the pitchers. That day at practice as pitchers we did not have much to do other than some throwing and running but after finishing running we got the opportunity to shag balls in the outfield. Now to the other pitchers practice may have been coming to an end but for me, I was just beginning to have fun as I was diving after balls in the outfield and for the first time in many years I felt like a kid again on the diamond. It was at this moment that I knew that I had to change and I had to do something about the position I was in, for the first time I did not feel like the victim, I actually felt like the opposite and I had something to prove. The next day was a rainy day and I remember texting my roomate everything and being as vulnerable as possible asking him what I should do. I knew I did not want to pitch anymore, I was at my wits end with pitching but I knew that I had more to give to the game. At the time what seemed like a simple solution was very hard for me because I had to put myself in a place of vulnerability in front of my teammates and coaches and that was when I started to realize that vulnerability is strength, prior to this I had always looked at vulnerability as a weakness but I had hit rock bottom and had no other choice but to be vulnerable. I felt broken on the inside as I texted my roommate back and forth about what I should do. He did not know this at the time but he saved my career because if it wasn’t for him I would not be playing the game today and I am eternally grateful for what he did that day. I scheduled a meeting with my coach where I had to show vulnerability again and tell him about my mental health struggles, I specifically remember telling him how I even couldn’t eat some days and I would wake up wanting to just sleep the day away because I knew there was that demon waiting for me at the field. In the meeting I had asked my coach for the opportunity to become a position player as I needed to if I wanted to stay in this game and I was so worried about what he may say or do. After my explanation, my coach answered with a simple “yes” and I remember thinking to myself ‘wow that was easy, all I had to do was be vulnerable and honest and my coach was there to help me in any way he could. I am very grateful for the opportunity that he gave me because the rest of the spring, I had the absolute best time of my life. For the first time since I could remember I was playing loud music excited for practice to begin instead of burying myself in my own sorrow and feeling sorry for myself. Instead of feeling sorry for myself I was actually extremely grateful for getting the opportunity to play the field and realized that I wouldn’t have traded the yips or those long sleepless nights of overthinking for anything in this world because it taught me to be grateful for what I did have. Have you ever heard the quote “You never know what you truly have til it's gone”? I love this quote for two reasons. For the longest time I related the quote to loss and sadness but in reality when I lost the ability to pitch I became grateful to just be alive and be involved in the wonderful game of baseball. I had learned that I am a human being and then a baseball player, not the other way around. My whole persona revolved all around baseball and it worked for a while until I couldn’t take it. I was able to open my eyes to the world around me and take the time to invest in self care, friendships, and relationships. Once I started to fill those gaps I started thinking about the whole new game in a way and this time I wasn’t on the side of damage control but rather in the box looking to destroy the first fastball that came my way from any pitcher, I also started training again at 3rd base and the outfield and I get comments whenever I zip a ball into home on a line or across the diamond about how I should be pitching. To their comment, I normally shake my head and smile and tell them maybe the old me but I wouldn’t trade places with anyone in the world to be where I'm at right now. My transition to a position player has not been easy but I have loved every second of it. At first people thought I was crazy, and then they started to give some advice here and there, and then eventually you have to leave those who never believed in you in awe at the sight of what you’re doing. This summer I got the chance to be a position player in a league in Myrtle Beach and I truly could not have been more grateful. Not only was I having fun on the field and feeling like the old me but I was also seeing success in the box and in the field and it only improved as time went on. I am grateful for those teammates down there because for me, it was a fresh start and they were behind me 100 percent and although some may have thought I was crazy, many commended me on what I was doing as well as supported me and helped me anyway possible. For the longest time I lived in the past, struggling to let go of bad performances and having thoughts of “what if” when it came to every last detail leading up to this. Now I live in the present because the past cannot be changed and it is only a stepping stone to where I am now. It is not until you let go that you can truly gain more control of the situation you’re in. I want every athlete out there to know that they are not defined by their results but rather by how they handle the results. I want every athlete to know that they are a human being first, and then an athlete. As a college athlete, I am proud and grateful everytime I touch the field now regardless of my results as I know that I am not competing with anyone other than the person I was the day before. As long as I go about my training and preparation I get the opportunity to showcase what I work for not to the scouts, not for the fans, not for either team competing but rather to myself and most importantly god. Thank you for reading my story and just remember that you are loved and you are enough.