I’ve written about 2009 and 2010 in exhausting detail and I thought it was time to do the same for 2011. Admittedly, this is going to be much tougher to get through as I look back on those embarrassing memories. I’ve never felt as helpless on a mound as I did during my sophomore year of college and it’s the type of humiliation that is reserved especially for pitchers and comedians – those who have all eyes on you. It’s nine years later and even though I have moved on and into a new chapter in my life, it’s still cringeworthy to re-live those memories. It’s something I very rarely talk about, but it’s therapeutic to express it opposed to suppress it. So sit back and read about the most humbling and in some cases, humiliating, moments of my life.
Closing the Book on 2010
I concluded the 2010 recap discussing how we suffered an awful loss to end my freshman season. Losing on a two-run error that turned a victory into a season-ending loss is about as bad as it gets. But as we got back, I was ready to move on and begin my summer. I was 18-years-old and I still wanted to enjoy it the best I could.
Of course I still needed to get my work in on the mound too. Upon the completion of the season, I did not have a place to play in the summer. I had been hopeful that the Hamptons League had a spot for me, but I was on the “waiting list” and that call never came. Personally, I think I was deserving, but whatever, maybe there was plenty of pitching depth that year. Desperate for a team, I actually got lucky that my cousin’s boyfriend played summer ball on some local travel team that was in a college league. Admittedly, it wasn’t great competition and probably not the test you want as a college pitcher but beggars can’t be choosers. So I pitched for this team that needed an arm. Looking back, it was probably what I needed to get my confidence back. I remember throwing a complete game and feeling like my old self. I also remember the other team swinging at some pitches over their heads and curveballs in the dirt – pitches that Cortland probably doesn’t swing at.
After that, I was looking for a more organized team to play for. As it ends up, Coach Tom Caputo coached for the LI Junior Ducks and were in need of an arm. I went down to pitch at Suffolk CC and it was a perfect situation being that Caputo was one of the coaches at Farmingdale so I figured he could keep Osik up-to-date on my progress, the Ducks are a great team, we were playing on a college field with an actual mound and the other team had some high-end players. I pitched well and told them I could come down next week.
The next week was a tournament at Baseball Heaven which features mainly high school seniors. Even though I was one year older, it was definitely a strange feeling in that I had never been the oldest player on a team and that everyone was looking for colleges to pitch at. I got the start and I pitched really well once again, and Stony Brook even approached Caputo after the game to ask where I wanted to go to school. He told them he’s at Farmingdale. It’s funny how things play out, because had it been just one year earlier I probably would’ve been visiting Stony Brook the next day to check out the campus. Nevertheless, it felt really good to even have their interest and I had now won all three of my summer starts.
I don’t remember exactly how, but I ended up pitching for another team the next week called the Mariners. It had a few of my Centereach buddies and the coach was Joe Salinitri. I started two games for them and they were both victories. So my confidence was all the way back. Additionally, I had moved into a house with my teammates at Farmingdale and I officially felt like things were clicking. I was still working at Villa Lombardi’s, which was not fun, but at 18-years-old, you don’t really have a perception of hard work or making money so that $200-$300 felt like $1 million.
The summer ended and my sophomore year of college started the day after my 19th birthday.
That fall semester was a blur. Living in a house with three other guys meant minimal focus on school, not enough sleep or proper nutrition. It’s normal for college kids to go out and party and enjoy that time frame of your life where it’s acceptable to do that, but had I been living at home or in the dorms I definitely think I would’ve been better off. In hindsight, it was probably too much freedom for the 19-year-old version of myself.
The one great thing about the fall of 2010 was the New York Jets. It was easily the best team they had since 1998 and I was hooked. I remember working on Sundays most of the season and having to sneak away to check the score on my phone or find a tv to catch a few minutes. That was definitely my most fond memory of that year. Except in typical Jets fashion, they lost the AFC Championship in a game they should’ve won, 24-19 to the Pittsburgh Steelers after nearly erasing a 24-0 deficit at half time.
Is Vinny good?
Right before the new year, we had two girls from the soccer team move into the house. They were great people, and grew up with and graduated high school with our ace pitcher, Chris Phelan. Neither cared much about baseball so they didn’t know much about me. I remember one day I overhead one of them ask Chris “Is Vinny good?” At the moment I was a little offended that we had known each other for several weeks at that time and yet now they would ask that. The irony is that as the season played out, that became a valid question as I started to second guess my own talent – something I never thought could happen.
The plan entering the season was that Phelan would be the No. 1. I would be the No. 2, and then we would see who would settle into what slot but we had a talented transfer in C.J. Bula from Purchase, a senior J.R. Lott that was our best bullpen piece the year before and two freshman – Chris Dragone and Michael Dolce. In my mind that was good enough to win a regional.
As the season got closer, though, my bullpens weren’t as sharp. During our 5 am practices, I was the one with the most questions surrounding command. During infield drills, I was the one overthrowing the bases or short hopping the catcher.
It was easy to overlook this at first because I had already pitched at that level. I already went through a whole season and proved I was mentally tough enough. What baseball will show you, there’s no resting on your laurels and you can succumb to “the thing” at anytime.
“The thing”, also known as “the monster” or the “yips” is the sudden loss of confidence that causes the inability to complete the most mundane tasks. Having a catch – something I did since I could walk was now a challenge. Throwing to bases with accuracy was a disaster and for the first time since I played competitively, throwing strikes was an adventure.
All athletes struggle with confidence issues at times but when it turns into an all-out fear of failure you are done. In any other previous year, I could’ve dealt with this by disappearing to my room or going for a pitching lesson with Neal Heaton but this was the absolute worst time for it to occur being that I was living with six other people and it was impossible to hide.
To be clear, this all happened very quickly. In January I was projected to be the No. 2 starter and coming off a great summer in which I went 5-0. By mid-February, I was googling techniques to reteach myself how to throw. I tried just about everything from sleeping in my uniform to drinking.
The week before we left for Florida I was basically in survival mode knowing that the coaches were already weary of what I could provide the team. The good news was that to that point, I hadn’t lost us a game. The bad news was that it seemed inevitable.
We went to Florida and I was scheduled to start the second game. I love that trip in February because you escape the cold and get to play in a baseball paradise. That alone helped ease my nerves slightly but I was still concerned how I would hold up in a full game.
Even on the flight down, I would fall asleep for a couple minutes but wake back up almost immediately. My mind just couldn’t relax.
After beating Grove City in the season opener, I started the second game. I wasn’t a disaster but definitely was not awe-inspiring. I pitched four innings and gave up two runs with three strikeouts and two walks. It was nice to get the W, but I knew I was a complete roll of the dice at that point.
We finished that trip 4-2, which is very impressive considering the track record of northeast teams in Florida to open the season. There was no doubt we were very talented, but in the back of my mind I think we were a better team without relying on me.
Rock Bottom
The self-doubt and trepidation festered into a complete disaster during the month of March. You know when you’re having a nightmare that you are running away from a monster but you’re barely moving or your legs aren’t there? It was like that except it lasted a month and I was aware of all of it. That is, all of it that I wasn’t trying to drown my sorrows in bud light.
On March 4 I got the start in our home opener against Western New England. When I was warming up down the right field line, I threw a baseball over the fence. For some reason, my dad made me take a scoop of C4 before I took the mound for energy. That did not work, it only amplified my anxiety and heartbeat. I faced four batters. I walked three and gave up a hit. My parents were there and left. A girl that I had been seeing for about a month was there and she left as well. It was humiliating and I needed to sit through 27 more outs.
After the game, I went to my parent’s house and I watched YouTube videos of Johan Santana. I spoke to my dad and he was trying to build me up saying ‘you still can go All-American, just win all the rest of your outings.’ Teammates tried to cheer me up sharing their worst experiences on a baseball field. Coaches told me to shake it off. Even though baseball is about having a short memory, I knew I was not out of the woods yet. I had no confidence throwing a baseball. I could barely have a catch.
The next week – eight days later – they somehow trusted me to start against Southern Maine. This was a program with two Division-III National Championships. I was a pitcher with no confidence at all. I went out and walked the first three batters. Coach Osik even called for a pick off at second with the bases loaded to try and steal and out. I’m just glad I didn’t throw it away. He took me out and it was now my second consecutive outing without retiring a batter. To make matters worse for me was that I was out of answers. Chris Phelan sat with me and tried to make me feel better, I told him I think I need some time away from the game. I called my dad after the game and for the first time, there was dejection in his voice. He wasn’t fired up, he wasn’t mad he just asked me what was wrong. I told him I need to see a sports psychologist.
That night I didn’t go home, but I did turn to one teammate that I knew wouldn’t judge me and that would come over with a case of bud light and that was how I spent the night.
During the week I drove from North Babylon to Middle Island to Osik’s facility and I told him I don’t know what’s wrong, but I have the yips and I’m going to do whatever I can to get my confidence back.
At my absolute lowest, I stumbled upon a website that provided me with some much-needed inspiration and hope. It was called baseball-confidence.com. It got my attention because it said in huge letters ‘free yourself emotionally and unlock your talent.’ At that point I had nothing to lose, and I did know that’s what I was really lacking – the ability to free myself emotionally. After struggling with every other technique I turned to ‘EFT’ or the emotional freedom technique. It’s an ancient ritual in which you literally tap on certain pressure points in your face to clear your mind and release negative thoughts. I did this religiously for the next several days and noticed a big difference. Suddenly I was not only able to have a catch but throw from the foul line and every throw was on a line. My bullpen was not only sharp, but I didn’t bounce one ball and the catcher was confident enough to have gear on.
Make Or Break
They allowed me to get another shot on March 27 at home against Purchase. They weren’t the ’27 Yankees, but even a week ago this would’ve been incomprehensible to give me a shot in an actual game. I warmed up and felt good, but I remember sitting in the dugout and thinking, ‘well, better not mess up again.’ I fell behind the first batter 1-0 and I kid you not, Osik got a reliever warming up. This was not out of the ordinary. I wound up taking a deep breath and actually throwing a strike. Even just that one pitch helped regain my confidence. I struck out that batter and felt like things had gone back to normal. I ended up going six innings, allowing three ER and striking out 10 against four walks. I got tagged with the loss and fell to 1-3 on the season, but somehow I felt much better about myself. Honestly, I should’ve escaped the sixth inning allowing no runs but with the bases loaded, one out a routine 6-4-3 double play was botched allowing the inning to prolong and they added a run on a sac fly to skew the line but it was still good to get double digit strikeouts. I emailed the guy behind baseball-confidence.com and thanked him for at least temporarily saving my career.
I got a stay of execution. I wound up getting wins against Yeshiva, NYU-Poly and John Jay to make my record 4-3 and I knew and everyone knew that I was not to be trusted in big games.
We won the Skyline Conference again – this time in three easy victories. I did not appear in any game. Coach told me I was slated to pitch the “if-necessary” game but honestly I think they would’ve used the grounds crew before me in a do-or-die game.
I did get another start and that was against a strong Ithaca team. I went five innings, allowing three runs. So basically it was better than what people expected from me but we lost. We went into the regionals knowing we had a shot to win it all but I would’ve had to contribute something.
We won the first game over Castleton, but lost the next two games to get eliminated. I came on to face a lefty with a man on second. I got ahead 0-2, then fell to 3-2. I got him out on a fly out to center but the second baseman said he left early and we should appeal. I came to a set, stepped off and threw to second. It went into center field and allowed a run to score. In a year filled with humiliation, it was towards the top of embarrassing moments.
That wound up being the last pitch I threw at Farmingdale.
Vinny’s Leaving
Around April, I was considering transferring to Adelphi. They had a better journalism program, they were in the midst of their best season of the century and my best friend, Jimmy, was the closer. Most of all, it offered an opportunity to start fresh. Nobody would know about my two horrific outings and I could just be the new lefty.
I wound up getting the release papers from the AD and contacted Adelphi. I made one critical mistake right away and that was tell Coach Scala that was I was pitching in the Skyline Conference championship. I did not pitch and he was not pleased I wasted his coach’s time. That was strike one against me already at Adelphi.
As is always the case, word spreads. So even though I only told a handful of people, naturally most of the teammates had heard about it. Nobody really mentioned it to me, maybe they were waiting for me to break the news, maybe they were hoping I wouldn’t change my mind. Who knows, but it all boiled over on the bus ride back from the regionals when everyone knew I was leaving. I got into a pretty heated argument with one of my roomates and it basically sealed the deal that I wouldn’t be returning.
May of 2011 was supposed to be an exciting time preparing for the College World Series. Instead I needed to move my stuff out of the house and get my life together as I prepared for a fresh start at Adelphi.
As the calendar flipped to June and then July, I was really embracing the change as I convinced myself that I just needed a new start. I pitched for the same team as the summer before, and I went 5-2. Although I still struggled throwing to bases (I made two errors in the 7th inning of my first start) I at least was throwing hard and throwing strikes. In one outing I actually faced two of my Farmingdale teammates. One hit a tapper back to the mound, I fired it to the first to record the out. “Where was that during the season?” he said.
I wish I had an answer.
That summer was really awesome as I felt that I was detoxing myself literally and figuratively. I had gotten myself into really good shape as I started to go to LA Fitness 5x per week. I was squatting 365 lbs, benching 245 and running 2.5-3 miles per day.
I had a new girlfriend and I was ready to re-invent myself.
In my last outing of the summer, I struck out a career-high 19 at Baseball Heaven on August 19. At that moment, I felt like the 2009 version of myself. Nothing could stop me, so I thought.
