Hello all. It's been a while, and for those of you who were lucky enough to avoid my stint of posting on this site, I am Kyle Meinhardt. I am a senior at Trinity University and 08 graduate of Jesuit College Prep. I have tried to keep up with the HSBBW news but school can get in the way too much. My main reason for posting here today is to discuss a new perspective--though new may be the wrong word--that I think has played an integral role in me being who I am today.
Today I received acceptance to UTMB Medical School in Galveston. It is the culmination of at least 3.5+ college years of work and dedication in and out of the classroom. But more-so, it was a testament to the 18+ years I put learning and practicing baseball on top of school.
I remember my mindset as a high school freshman. I played for a top organization in summer ball and faired well enough almost from the get go on varsity (as a soph). Success as a younger kid came easy enough, but in high school I was getting progressively smaller relative to the competition. However, I still probably felt like a D1 offer was coming if not inevitable. That is not to say I did not work. I worked unbelievably hard. Cade, Linty, and countless other coaches poured hours into me and I into the game. And it was worth it, I'd go back and do more if I could, even knowing the outcome. Around my junior year I quickly began to realize that although I may get lucky, that D1 look just wasn't coming. Despite on the field success, I never projected. The closest thing I ever came was to a recruiting coordinator at a major camp saying, "I love what you do, I wish you were left handed" and I was devastated. My ego was hurt. I worked harder. But this isn't story of me playing ball. Fortunately my parents always stressed academics, school, and being well rounded. Back up plans and options are often more valuable than plan A.
I pitched in exactly one game as a freshman at Trinity, despite for the large part fairing well in scrimmages and inter-squad outings. And as a sophomore I was hurt and for the first time, labored a little too much to pack all of my baseball stuff in the car. It stunk to say the least. I still love(d) the game. But my family and I both knew a decision I had made back as a junior in HS was starting to win the battle of my commitment. And that was my desire to be a doctor. I haven't played a game since that day as a freshman. Maybe picked up a baseball to throw seriously once more. And I can't say I regret a thing. I miss it yes, but I knew I made the right decision when I attended the first baseball game that Spring and realized I felt a stronger fervor towards medicine than I did towards that team.
By why post this? To lament or congratulate myself? of course not. My point is that I hope every parent realizes that, if prudent, every dollar you invest in your son or daughters athletic ventures, every hour you spend at a lesson, and every time you watch them pick themselves back up after failure, please realize that is doing as much good as any one singular class can. Baseball is a humbling game. The work ethic, lessons, and ability to cope with failure I learned from baseball have been integral in allowing me to manage my time wisely and bounce back from bad tests (everyone has them). The other important aspect though of that investment is to encourage-not push-every kid to find a passion outside of baseball. Unfortunately, everyone's career on the diamond ends at some point, and we aren't all lucky enough to continue with the game in as much of a form as we'd like. What truly scares me are the bright kids who never consider a world after baseball. Friends of mine in school will drop classes, take extra years of school, and sacrifice life plans for ball. And that's fine to an extent, this isn't intended to be a lecture on priorities, but each one I am thinking of has no answer to "what is your dream job?" Having that passion allows for optimal performance in both arenas until one ultimately wins out.
There was nothing cooler than being called upon to pitch at the end of the game, or in an elimination game during a tournament because the team needed a win. There is also nothing cooler than watching a 15 day old open heart surgery and then seeing that kid two months later, completely healthy. When I ultimately made the decision to tell my college coaches I would not be returning, I was comfortable knowing that I left it all out on the field and the game had given me more than I deserved. It helped make me a better student and I hope it helps make me a better physician.
It is just a game, just a game worth so much more. Hope all of you are doing well.
Original Post
