"It's popping for a Thursday night." Sean comnted as he walked into the clubroom. There were a few of us hanging around. . Dave. Mitchell. Joey. Matt. "Those bleachers are packed." He sat down a few spots from where I was laying on the floor. "You good, Jake?"
"He can't hit in the cages." Mitchell said. "He's probably contemplating life."
"Who is stopping him from going to hit a few? Coach?" He guessed.
"It's all those people that want to watch him." Dave explained. "We ca down right after school, thinking it would be less crowded. And it was. Until Jake started hitting. He attracted a crowd. A lot of scouts, coaches, and randoms. Jake is decompressing right now."
Sean nodded understandably. He leaned over . "Jake, just to prep you, we're going to have a packed house tonight. We have more people here than ever before. A lot of Servite fans seem to be showing up too. Honestly, if we had a place as big as them, it would be a sold out show."
I felt so tension in my back loosen up. My hands also unclenched.
"Uh, am I crazy or did Jake just relaxed after I said that there were a lot of Servite fans?" Sean asked, looking around at the others.
Dave laughed. "Yea, he's weird like that. His own fans stress him out. People cheering against him? It's fine. People rooting for him to do well? Stick a fork in him. He's done."
"It's going to be tough for him." Mitchell added. "The more popular he is, the more fans there'll be."
"You guys are acting very nonchalant for having our best batter on the floor." Sean remarked.
"Noah already went to get Dr. Moore. The psychologist." Dave waved him off. "Plus, we still have ti. Only worry when Jake throws up and then panic when he passes out. This is baby stuff."
Sean nodded in agreent and moved away on the bench a little more so I had more space.
"I think it's wild that this is the best batter in the state." Joey comnted from his end of the room. "I feel like I should do a showdown with Jake. But make it very public and have all his fans show up to cheer him on. It'd be sothing out of a movie. I act as a villain. Supporters of the protagonist show up. Jake crumbles under the expectations. I strike out the best and make a na for myself. The supporters realize it's their own fault and bla themselves."
I shivered.
"Damn, man." Matt cursed. "Whose team are you on?"
"What? I'm just speculating. Heck, it's rely a dream." Joey said. "We all know I can't really beat him. Jake, I have absolute confidence in you." He called out to tell .
"Can you not?" I flipped over onto my stomach. Everyone had confidence in . They all believed in . Great. Fantastic. But what happens when I let them down? Will they still like and accept ? Or will they all be mad and disappointed?
Noah and Dr. Moore chose to enter at this point in ti. Mr. Miller and Coach were right behind them. My audience was growing bigger. Maybe if I close my eyes tight enough, I'll disappear. Or lt into the floor and never co out again.
"And you don't think we need to call your parents?" Mr. Miller asked.
"Nah." Noah said. "This is minor. He just needs a pep talk from a pro." He slapped Dr. Moore on the back. "Counting on you, Dr. Moore. Warmups starts in an hour."
Dr. Moore was the only one of the four to approach . He surprised by getting down on the dirty floor and laid beside . "Hey, Jake."
I pursed my lips together. "Hey."
"I see that you have pressured yourself into a downward spiral again."
"It happens." Noah said.
I rolled my eyes.
"I've got to ask." Dr. Moore ignored Noah and continued. "Do you think you feel pressured because you might let them down? Despite the fact that you've been phenonal."
My heart started to pound at the hidden complint. "I'm not as great as everyone thinks I am."
"You are." Noah added from across the room.
"Well, let's say you do let them down." Dr. Moore's suggestion didn't make feel so good. "What's the worst that can happen?"
"Everyone hates ?"
He chuckled. "I think it'll take a lot of work and effort to get everyone to hate you. But okay. Say that they did. So what? Does their opinion matter?"
I tapped the floor. "Not necessarily."
"Whose opinions matter to you?"
"My family. My friends. My coaches. My teammates." I listed the four groups.
"I don't think any one of them would be mad if you got out or made an error." Dr. Moore told .
"I know, but I'd be mad at myself." I sighed.
"Ah. See. Your opinion of yourself matters the most." Dr. Moore said. "You set unbelievably high standards for yourself. If you don't succeed and et those expectations, you hurt your own self-esteem. It's a vicious cycle that you have trouble leaving."
I frowned. "What can I do? It's not like I can rewrite the way I think. I want to do my best and help the team win."
"You'll have to change the way you think. Slowly but surely, it'll co." Dr. Moore told . "You have to remind yourself constantly, that the people in that are rooting for you, won't leave after an error or two. They want the best for you too. Why is that a bad thing?"
"He's not used to it." Dave snapped his fingers and pointed at . He started to wag his finger. "You weren't used to talking for a long ti too, Jake. You can rewrite anything about yourself as long you work on it and give yourself ti."
"Very good, Dave." Dr. Moore said from his spot beside on the floor. He looked at . "Even if you beco the worst baseball player of all ti, that's not everything that makes you, you, is it?"
"Nah. He's annoyingly good at math!" Dave added his thoughts again.
My lips twitched.
Dr. Moore waited for this ti, not answering to Dave.
"It's not everything, but it feels like a big part." I said.
"It can be as big as you want it to be." He shrugged. "Or however small you want it to be. Just like how you have to physically practice baseball to beco a better player; you have to work on yourself ntally too. Cut yourself so slack. It's good to set goals, not deadlines."
"Shouldn't goals have deadlines?" Joey asked.
Dr. Moore started a small group talk. "Goals are intangible and nonlinear. Soone going to college for example, can say he wants to graduate in the normal four years. Soone else might want to do it sooner like three. Person C could want to do it in five years to give himself more ti to focus so he can have better grades. But just because these three people have given themselves deadlines, doesn't an they can't accomplish the goal: graduate college."
Dr. Moore continued to talk about the limits we set on ourselves and how it could hinder us from full potential. All the others in the room seem to be interested which was comforting. I wasn't a weirdo for needing a therapist. I was just uninford.
As more and more players walked in, we moved off the floor and on to a bench. Eventually it was ti for Dr. Moore to go and for to get ready for the ga.
"Every cheer for you is a well-aning wish." Dr. Moore told as I walked him out. "They want you to do well, but if you don't, then they're probably just going to cheer harder." He clapped on the shoulder. "And even if they all got mad at you, who cares? Your parents and brothers still love you. That won't change. These small panic attacks you have will pass. Just hang in there."
I smiled shyly, but happy to know I have sothing to rely on.
"Good luck today. I'm rooting for you and the team." Dr. Moore waved and left.
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