There is a Little Girl Still Inside Me.

Its a game they say, a game where only one team can be the winner.

I have been playing this said game as long as I can remember.

Training nightly, attending camps, placed in the circle to be stared at by thousands.

My future success depends on how well I can spin the ball, just how fast can I make it go?

I have worked hard at my craft.  Personilized it to earn my name.  Made myself famous. 

All for the love of the game.

Fear, my goal is to make you fear.  Be "fierce" they say, "bull up".

What the batter does not understand is that I fear as well.

Basically, I need to strike you out.  You want to slam my ball over the fence. 

However, it goes much deeper than that for me. 

Since 8th grade, college coaches have been watching me all over the country.

I am a google sensation.  My picture flutters the media with my trademark grunt and devastating changeup.

I can't let my family down.  I need my coaches to be proud.  I need to win and I need to be recognized to play in college.

What you don't see is the little girl that still lives inside of me.  The little girl that carries the weight of the world on her shoulders.

How can I ignore her?  She whispers in my ear constantly. 

"Do better," she says.  "Pitch faster," she says.  "You're better than this," she says.

My fans cheer, my team gets ready, and I deliver the pitch.

Who cares!  Is it a strike?  Is it a ball?  Did it hit the moon?  Why does it really matter?

Too much pressure.  I know my future depends on it and I know it is supposed to be fun!

It will be fun!  The little girl inside of me screams that this is my game!  This is what I have bled for.

In the end, tomorrow will be a new game.  I can't control it, but I can do my best in the moment.

This is my game.