Ain’t nothing like being a rookie and there ain’t nothing like taking a BEAT DOWN… 

Many people somehow think I somehow seamlessly transitioned from the baseball diamond into the world of endurance sports and triathlon… Gosh damn that couldn’t be any further from the truth. We wrap up our F*IT List celebration week with a chapter titled “Become Comfortable With The Uncomfortable.” I had no other choice…

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

Chapter 99

Become Comfortable With The Uncomfortable

“My life was going to be different. I felt my life changing. I made a deal with myself. A deal was struck. And I don’t care if it hurts, I don’t care if it’s messy, I don’t care how it looks, but I would finish. I would finish.”

-Julie Moss

 

As much as I loved my new job and was having a blast golfing, surfing, and playing slow-pitch softball, there was still definitely some sort of void in my life. I took the infamous beach cruiser for a spin one day in Half Moon Bay and ended up running into some grade school friends of mine over at States Beach that I had not seen in years: Kevin "Chops" Quellmalz and the Wray sisters, Erica and Lauren. They were telling me about a triathlon that they were going to be doing in a few weeks. I had always been intrigued by triathlons ever since I was a 6-year-old kid sitting on the couch with my dad, watching the Ironman World Championships and Julie Moss collapse at the finish line in Kona in 1982.

I always wondered what kind of event could possibly push somebody to the point of complete and total exhaustion, and what sort of person would put themselves through such extreme agonizing pain. Every year from that point on, I would watch the Ironman World Championships with my dad and we would marvel at the athletes that would put themselves through the challenge. All three of my friends were experienced triathletes and began trying to convince me to join them for the sprint distance triathlon.  

The problem was, like most of the people who get into the sport, I didn't really know how to swim. I surfed a ton growing up, but I was always attached to the board, which essentially serves as a flotation device. Swimming without a pool wall to stop and hold onto seemed daunting. Nonetheless, I took the challenge and had about 2 weeks to get ready. The race was the Pacific Grove Triathlon that took place in gorgeous Pacific Grove, California, right next to Pebble Beach and Carmel. The distances consisted of a 750-yard swim, a 12-mile bike, and a 2-mile run. Immediately, I headed to the swimming pool to figure out what I was working with. I started off swimming the first 25 yards freestyle. When I got to the other side of the pool, I was completely gassed. There was absolutely no way I could swim 50 yards, let alone 750. I needed a new plan. I then swam the next 25 yards breaststroke; albeit I was extremely slow, I actually felt okay when I got to the other end. That first day I swam two more lengths of the pool to finish up my first ever 100-yard swim workout! That was it; I was going to have to swim breaststroke so I could become confident that I wasn't going to drown. I did 150 yards the next time, then 200, 250 and so on, celebrating my miniature "50 yards more" victory every step of the way. I went to the pool just about every day leading up to the race and slowly built up to the 750-yard distance I was going to have to cover in the competition. 

Race day arrived a lot quicker than I would have liked, but I felt like for 2 weeks of preparation I had done all I could do. The morning of the race I was running late so I had Tarah drop me off as close to where the race started as possible. I hopped out of the car with my 5mm surfing wetsuit, my beach cruiser, and some board shorts to ride and run in after I got out of the water. When I got to the expo area,

This isn’t the first time we’ve shared the Kirk Gibson I X V = R story in the Daily Hustle, but trust me when I say it is well worth revisiting in its original fantastic F*IT List form… Enjoy and you’re welcome:

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

Chapter 60

I x V = R

“Image x Vividness = Reality.”

-Kirk Gibson

 

The 2003 season can best be described by the title of the Clint Eastwood movie, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. The season saw plenty of all three.

I spent the first several weeks in my standard role of coming off the bench to pinch hit, pinch run, or play defense with the occasional start against a left-handed pitcher. I was growing increasingly frustrated but continued to do everything in my power to keep a positive outlook and believe that my opportunity would come at some point. The Detroit Tigers were in town and one of my favorite players growing up, Kirk Gibson, was on the coaching staff. After our batting practice before the first game of the series, Gibby was on the field hitting fungos, so I snuck over and asked him if I sent over a bat to the visiting clubhouse, would it be possible for him to sign it for me and send it back? He hit one more ball then turned around and stared at me as if I just interrupted him during his at bat against Dennis Eckersley in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series. He eventually fired back, "Send it over." He quickly turned around and continued to hit fungos. Not exactly the warm reception I was looking for, but I had heard all the rumors of how intense he was so I did not let it bother me. As a matter of fact, it actually made me like him even more.

I sent the bat over and Gibby signed it and had the bat returned to me before the game even started. Mikey Thalbaum, the visiting clubhouse manager, wrapped it in a long sanitary sock. I kept the bat in the sock for protection and took it home. The next day when I was taking BP, Kirk Gibson came up to me this time. 

"You get the bat?" 

"Yes, sir, thank you very much."

"Have you read what I wrote?" 

"No, I took it home but I haven't taken it out of the sanitary sock yet.”

"Take it out, read it, figure out the meaning, understand it, then apply it." 

When I got home after the game, I immediately grabbed the bat and pulled it out of the sock. "To Eric, I x V = R." What could that possibly mean? How was I supposed to decipher this mysterious equation? 

I asked everyone I encountered the rest of the day and got nothing; nobody had any idea what it meant. The next day was a day game, so we were not taking BP on the field but the Tigers were. I absolutely could not take it anymore! I needed to know the meaning of I x V = R! 

As soon as I got to the stadium I went down to the dugout and essentially stalked Kirk Gibson until he came out onto the field. When he showed, despite being surrounded by several other Tigers coaches and players, I immediately bombarded him. 

"I take it you read the bat?" 

"Yup, I have asked almost everyone I know in the last 24 hours the meaning but nobody has a clue." 

"Not many people do. I X V = R, Image x Vividness = Reality. The more vividly you are able to imagine something the more likely it is to become your reality. This equation changed my career and it will yours as well." 

I immediately went up to the clubhouse and wrote it down.

Ironically, that very same day, Jermaine Dye hurt his knee in the outfield. Terry Francona, who was the bench coach in 2003, told Adam Piatt, another reserve outfielder and former Minor League player of the year, to grab his glove. As Piatt was getting ready to run out to replace Dye, Macha intervened, "Byrnes, get your ass out to right field." Assuming Piatt was going in,

This isn’t the first time we’ve shared the Kirk Gibson I X V = R story in the Daily Hustle, but trust me when I say it is well worth revisiting in its original fantastic F*IT List form… Enjoy and you’re welcome:

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

Chapter 60

I x V = R

“Image x Vividness = Reality.”

-Kirk Gibson

 

The 2003 season can best be described by the title of the Clint Eastwood movie, The Good, the Bad, and the Ugly. The season saw plenty of all three.

I spent the first several weeks in my standard role of coming off the bench to pinch hit, pinch run, or play defense with the occasional start against a left-handed pitcher. I was growing increasingly frustrated but continued to do everything in my power to keep a positive outlook and believe that my opportunity would come at some point. The Detroit Tigers were in town and one of my favorite players growing up, Kirk Gibson, was on the coaching staff. After our batting practice before the first game of the series, Gibby was on the field hitting fungos, so I snuck over and asked him if I sent over a bat to the visiting clubhouse, would it be possible for him to sign it for me and send it back? He hit one more ball then turned around and stared at me as if I just interrupted him during his at bat against Dennis Eckersley in Game 1 of the 1988 World Series. He eventually fired back, "Send it over." He quickly turned around and continued to hit fungos. Not exactly the warm reception I was looking for, but I had heard all the rumors of how intense he was so I did not let it bother me. As a matter of fact, it actually made me like him even more.

I sent the bat over and Gibby signed it and had the bat returned to me before the game even started. Mikey Thalbaum, the visiting clubhouse manager, wrapped it in a long sanitary sock. I kept the bat in the sock for protection and took it home. The next day when I was taking BP, Kirk Gibson came up to me this time. 

"You get the bat?" 

"Yes, sir, thank you very much."

"Have you read what I wrote?" 

"No, I took it home but I haven't taken it out of the sanitary sock yet.”

"Take it out, read it, figure out the meaning, understand it, then apply it." 

When I got home after the game, I immediately grabbed the bat and pulled it out of the sock. "To Eric, I x V = R." What could that possibly mean? How was I supposed to decipher this mysterious equation? 

I asked everyone I encountered the rest of the day and got nothing; nobody had any idea what it meant. The next day was a day game, so we were not taking BP on the field but the Tigers were. I absolutely could not take it anymore! I needed to know the meaning of I x V = R! 

As soon as I got to the stadium I went down to the dugout and essentially stalked Kirk Gibson until he came out onto the field. When he showed, despite being surrounded by several other Tigers coaches and players, I immediately bombarded him. 

"I take it you read the bat?" 

"Yup, I have asked almost everyone I know in the last 24 hours the meaning but nobody has a clue." 

"Not many people do. I X V = R, Image x Vividness = Reality. The more vividly you are able to imagine something the more likely it is to become your reality. This equation changed my career and it will yours as well." 

I immediately went up to the clubhouse and wrote it down.

Ironically, that very same day, Jermaine Dye hurt his knee in the outfield. Terry Francona, who was the bench coach in 2003, told Adam Piatt, another reserve outfielder and former Minor League player of the year, to grab his glove. As Piatt was getting ready to run out to replace Dye, Macha intervened, "Byrnes, get your ass out to right field." Assuming Piatt was going in,

Have you Daily Hustlers noticed the name Karl Kuehl continues to make repeat appearances in the Daily Hustle? Well, that’s for good f*cking reason, this dude was a mental mastery SAVAGE… 

Today’s F*IT List chapter is titled “You Have No F*cking Clue” and takes us back to when I first signed with the Oakland A’s and got to meet the LEGENDARY Jedi mind warrior… 

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

 

Chapter 37

You Have No F*cking Clue

“Do you know what it takes to play in the big leagues?”

-Karl Kuehl

 

Next stop was instructional league at the Oakland A's Minor League complex in Arizona. "Instructs" is generally reserved for an organization’s top 30 prospects. You practice in the morning then usually play games in the early afternoons. While there, they have mini-seminars teaching players about professional baseball and all of the things that may lie ahead. One of the days, Karl Kuehl — yup, the same Karl Kuehl that co-authored The Mental Game of Baseball, gave a talk about what it takes to play in the big leagues. 

"Hey guys. You are all here because you were the best in your high school or college. How many All-Americans do we have in here?" Hands go up all around the room. "How many Minor League all-stars do we have?" A bunch more hands were raised. "You guys have all had a lot of success. You gentlemen got a pretty good idea what it takes to play in the big leagues?" Heads around the entire room nod in agreement. 

Then he broke into the scene right out of Bull Durham when Kevin Costner described to the other minor leaguers what his experience in "The Show" was like. "You hit white balls for batting practice, the stadiums are like cathedrals, you don't have to carry your own bag, women all have long legs and brains." Everyone in the room has big smiles on their faces. 

"You guys get it. You all know what it’s like to play in the big leagues, you were born for this. Right?" Now everyone in the room is smiling and nodding. I couldn't help but think to myself, "You are gosh damn right, Karl!" He then proceeds, "Let me tell you something boys. YOU HAVE NO F*CKING CLUE WHAT IT TAKES TO PLAY IN THE BIG LEAGUES!!! Look around the room, gentlemen, look at the guy sitting to your left, look him in the eyes, look at the guy sitting to the right, look him in the eyes! There are 30 guys in this room and percentages say that only 3 of you will ever play a single F*CKING day in the big leagues! Who's it going to be?"

It became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Total silence. I then did what Karl asked us to do. I looked to my left and right; my two roommates and two of my best friends, Jason Hart and Burt Snow, sat there with a bewildered look on their face. Hart was the big slugger from Springfield Missouri and Snow a filthy right-handed pitcher out of Vanderbilt with a devastating slider. I then broke the silence, "Well boys, since there is going to only be 3 of us, you f*cks coming with me?"

Not exactly the direction I thought the author of the book that preaches eternal optimism and positive thinking was going to go, but effective nonetheless. This was real talk. We didn't have any clue what it was like to play in the big leagues, and ironically, there were exactly 3 guys from instructional league 1998 that ended up playing in "The Show." Karl Kuehl served as a huge mentor of mine throughout the course of my entire career.

 

Human Crash Test Dummy Life Lesson #37

Have a realistic perspective on your situation and then immediately get back to work.  It is the work that will give you the confidence to look around the room and ask who’s coming with you. 

 

Want more F*It List Life Lessons?

Click here and get your copy today.

 

-EB

Have you Daily Hustlers noticed the name Karl Kuehl continues to make repeat appearances in the Daily Hustle? Well, that’s for good f*cking reason, this dude was a mental mastery SAVAGE… 

Today’s F*IT List chapter is titled “You Have No F*cking Clue” and takes us back to when I first signed with the Oakland A’s and got to meet the LEGENDARY Jedi mind warrior… 

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

 

Chapter 37

You Have No F*cking Clue

“Do you know what it takes to play in the big leagues?”

-Karl Kuehl

 

Next stop was instructional league at the Oakland A's Minor League complex in Arizona. "Instructs" is generally reserved for an organization’s top 30 prospects. You practice in the morning then usually play games in the early afternoons. While there, they have mini-seminars teaching players about professional baseball and all of the things that may lie ahead. One of the days, Karl Kuehl — yup, the same Karl Kuehl that co-authored The Mental Game of Baseball, gave a talk about what it takes to play in the big leagues. 

"Hey guys. You are all here because you were the best in your high school or college. How many All-Americans do we have in here?" Hands go up all around the room. "How many Minor League all-stars do we have?" A bunch more hands were raised. "You guys have all had a lot of success. You gentlemen got a pretty good idea what it takes to play in the big leagues?" Heads around the entire room nod in agreement. 

Then he broke into the scene right out of Bull Durham when Kevin Costner described to the other minor leaguers what his experience in "The Show" was like. "You hit white balls for batting practice, the stadiums are like cathedrals, you don't have to carry your own bag, women all have long legs and brains." Everyone in the room has big smiles on their faces. 

"You guys get it. You all know what it’s like to play in the big leagues, you were born for this. Right?" Now everyone in the room is smiling and nodding. I couldn't help but think to myself, "You are gosh damn right, Karl!" He then proceeds, "Let me tell you something boys. YOU HAVE NO F*CKING CLUE WHAT IT TAKES TO PLAY IN THE BIG LEAGUES!!! Look around the room, gentlemen, look at the guy sitting to your left, look him in the eyes, look at the guy sitting to the right, look him in the eyes! There are 30 guys in this room and percentages say that only 3 of you will ever play a single F*CKING day in the big leagues! Who's it going to be?"

It became so quiet you could hear a pin drop. Total silence. I then did what Karl asked us to do. I looked to my left and right; my two roommates and two of my best friends, Jason Hart and Burt Snow, sat there with a bewildered look on their face. Hart was the big slugger from Springfield Missouri and Snow a filthy right-handed pitcher out of Vanderbilt with a devastating slider. I then broke the silence, "Well boys, since there is going to only be 3 of us, you f*cks coming with me?"

Not exactly the direction I thought the author of the book that preaches eternal optimism and positive thinking was going to go, but effective nonetheless. This was real talk. We didn't have any clue what it was like to play in the big leagues, and ironically, there were exactly 3 guys from instructional league 1998 that ended up playing in "The Show." Karl Kuehl served as a huge mentor of mine throughout the course of my entire career.

 

Human Crash Test Dummy Life Lesson #37

Have a realistic perspective on your situation and then immediately get back to work.  It is the work that will give you the confidence to look around the room and ask who’s coming with you. 

 

Want more F*It List Life Lessons?

Click here and get your copy today.

 

-EB

Here on day 2 of our F*IT List celebration, we go back to my Freshman year at UCLA where I faced my opportunities and opposition HEAD ON… The title of the chapter is “GO GET IT.” 

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

Chapter 25

Go Get It

“Look,

If you had one shot,

One opportunity,

To seize everything you ever wanted,

One moment,

Would you capture it,

Or just let it slip?”

-Eminem, Lose Yourself

 

When I finally got my opportunity I ran with it (pun intended). In my first at bat I crushed a ball off the right-centerfield wall and never looked back. I ended up being the starting right fielder and leadoff hitter as a freshman.  Knowing that I had done the work throughout the course of my life gave me the confidence for that one moment of opportunity. With my antics the day before, I knew that moment of opportunity could be short lived, but I asked for the test because I had studied. Confidence is fueled by preparation, and I had spent my entire life preparing for that one moment.

Now, as the starting right fielder for UCLA, I felt like I had a score to settle with Stanford. The school I grew up dreaming of playing for, only to have my heart broken at the last minute. The first chance I had to play against them was at UCLA. I homered on the first pitch I saw. I ended the 3-game series 6 for 12 with 2 home runs. A few weeks later, I went home to play at Sunken Diamond in front of over 100 family members and friends. I had 9 hits in 12 at bats. My communication skills at that point in my life were still developing, but my success on the field against Stanford throughout my entire college career seemed to be my personal way of telling the Cardinal to go F*CK themselves.

To further spice things up, toward the end of the 2nd game of the 3-game series, I was on first base when there was a routine ground ball hit to the short stop. As usual, I went hard into second base trying to beat the throw. Stanford 2nd baseman, Brian Dallimore, caught the ball for the final out. Then as my back was turned and I was facing the outfield, something hit me in the helmet. Stunned, not realizing what had happened right away, I turned around and watched Dallimore sprint off the field. It actually wasn't until the next morning at breakfast when long time big leaguer Doug DeCinces, whose son Tim was our catcher, explained exactly what had gone on. After Dallimore caught the 3rd out, he turned around and rocketed the ball from point blank range off my coconut. Apparently, he took exception to my hard slide at second base. I asked Doug what he thought I should do. He said it was very simple… "When you hit a double today, tell Dallimore that you thought guys at Stanford liked to play hard, and then ask him why he acted like a baby." In my 3rd at bat, I hit the double and asked Dallimore exactly that… His response… “Wait till you get into the box next time…” My response… "If I get hit, I am coming for you."

Kyle Peterson, Stanford's highly touted freshman pitcher, was on the mound when I came up for my next at bat. The first pitch hit me square in the ass cheek. Without hesitation I charged right passed the pitcher’s mound and headed straight for Dallimore at 2nd base. I was in a full sprint approaching the cut of the infield grass when I got absolutely smoked from my right side. It felt as if I was a wide receiver going across the middle and Ronnie Lott had just blind-sided me. Vince Behringhele, our first base coach, had come from the first base coaches box to relive his Loyola High School football glory days. He then did his best WWE impersonation, pinning me to the ground until I was able to calm down. Although I never reached my destination, I have to figure there is a good chance that was the first time in baseball history that somebody charged the 2nd baseman after getting hit by a pit...

Here on day 2 of our F*IT List celebration, we go back to my Freshman year at UCLA where I faced my opportunities and opposition HEAD ON… The title of the chapter is “GO GET IT.” 

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

Chapter 25

Go Get It

“Look,

If you had one shot,

One opportunity,

To seize everything you ever wanted,

One moment,

Would you capture it,

Or just let it slip?”

-Eminem, Lose Yourself

 

When I finally got my opportunity I ran with it (pun intended). In my first at bat I crushed a ball off the right-centerfield wall and never looked back. I ended up being the starting right fielder and leadoff hitter as a freshman.  Knowing that I had done the work throughout the course of my life gave me the confidence for that one moment of opportunity. With my antics the day before, I knew that moment of opportunity could be short lived, but I asked for the test because I had studied. Confidence is fueled by preparation, and I had spent my entire life preparing for that one moment.

Now, as the starting right fielder for UCLA, I felt like I had a score to settle with Stanford. The school I grew up dreaming of playing for, only to have my heart broken at the last minute. The first chance I had to play against them was at UCLA. I homered on the first pitch I saw. I ended the 3-game series 6 for 12 with 2 home runs. A few weeks later, I went home to play at Sunken Diamond in front of over 100 family members and friends. I had 9 hits in 12 at bats. My communication skills at that point in my life were still developing, but my success on the field against Stanford throughout my entire college career seemed to be my personal way of telling the Cardinal to go F*CK themselves.

To further spice things up, toward the end of the 2nd game of the 3-game series, I was on first base when there was a routine ground ball hit to the short stop. As usual, I went hard into second base trying to beat the throw. Stanford 2nd baseman, Brian Dallimore, caught the ball for the final out. Then as my back was turned and I was facing the outfield, something hit me in the helmet. Stunned, not realizing what had happened right away, I turned around and watched Dallimore sprint off the field. It actually wasn't until the next morning at breakfast when long time big leaguer Doug DeCinces, whose son Tim was our catcher, explained exactly what had gone on. After Dallimore caught the 3rd out, he turned around and rocketed the ball from point blank range off my coconut. Apparently, he took exception to my hard slide at second base. I asked Doug what he thought I should do. He said it was very simple… "When you hit a double today, tell Dallimore that you thought guys at Stanford liked to play hard, and then ask him why he acted like a baby." In my 3rd at bat, I hit the double and asked Dallimore exactly that… His response… “Wait till you get into the box next time…” My response… "If I get hit, I am coming for you."

Kyle Peterson, Stanford's highly touted freshman pitcher, was on the mound when I came up for my next at bat. The first pitch hit me square in the ass cheek. Without hesitation I charged right passed the pitcher’s mound and headed straight for Dallimore at 2nd base. I was in a full sprint approaching the cut of the infield grass when I got absolutely smoked from my right side. It felt as if I was a wide receiver going across the middle and Ronnie Lott had just blind-sided me. Vince Behringhele, our first base coach, had come from the first base coaches box to relive his Loyola High School football glory days. He then did his best WWE impersonation, pinning me to the ground until I was able to calm down. Although I never reached my destination, I have to figure there is a good chance that was the first time in baseball history that somebody charged the 2nd baseman after getting hit by a pit...

This week in the Daily Hustle (because nobody else is), we want to celebrate The F*It List - Life Lessons From A Human Crash Test Dummy.

While we still try to figure out where our Pulitzer Prize is for this masterpiece, let us grace you with a few small anecdotes of literary greatness...

‍Each day this week, we will share a chapter from different stages of my life that we believe have the ability to resonate with many of our Daily Hustlers on several different levels. For those of you GO HARDS that have already read the F*IT List, this is a fantastic chance to review the experiences and life lessons drawn from them… Way too often, I have read a book that has had an incredible impact on my life only to put it back on the shelf without opening it again. Remember, our brains need to be constantly CHARGED and our attitudes kept in check. The only way to do so is to feed it over and over again… 

For those of you who have not yet read The F*IT List, it’s time to wake the f*ck up and get on it… 

The book was written with the ADHD culture in mind, thus it has been broken into 129 short chapters that allows for easy reading/listening… More than once it has been called a great “bathroom book” so if you feel so inclined to stick it on your toilet, I am happy to share the porcelain with you… 

Today’s chapter takes us back to my St. Francis High School days and is titled: “Names Don’t Matter… People do.” 

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

 

Chapter 12

Names Don’t Matter… People Do

“What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” 

-William Shakespeare

 

After football season, I had a very difficult decision whether or not I was going to play basketball. Hoops was definitely a love of mine, and still to this day, I would argue that the 56 points I scored in an 8th grade basketball game would rank as the greatest accomplishment of my athletic career. Ultimately, my decision was made based on the fact that I felt baseball was my better sport and the basketball season would run several weeks into the start of baseball. Not to mention, if I wanted to make the team, and play more than a few courtesy innings, I needed to get to work and prepare for the upcoming season. Baseball tryouts brought out nearly 50 aspiring freshmen. Only 15 would make the team. The tryout started off with playing catch for 10 minutes, five ground balls, five fly balls, and then five pitches to hit off of a pitching machine. I froze up and took the first one; I swung and missed at the second, swung and missed at third, popped up the fourth, then hit a chopper on the fifth. I figured that was the first-round and we would no doubt get some more pitches to hit. 

I’ll never forget freshman baseball coach Dave Fererra hollering out after I took my feeble cuts, "That's it, you can go home now. The list will be posted tomorrow at 8 am on the south entrance door to Raskob Gym." That's it? That's all? You have got to be kidding me!!! There are 50 dudes out here and that's how you freaking knuckleheads are going to make a decision? I was doomed. I had no chance.

I hopped in Mom's WGN4KID license plated station wagon (no, that’s not a joke) and I started to cry like a 2 year old. All of my hopes and dreams of playing baseball at St. Francis just went by the wayside with five stupid-ass pitches. I wanted out, and I wanted out now. The competition was too much, the athletes too good, and the selection process too ridiculous. "Drive me to Woodside High School (the public school in the area), Mom. I didn't make it." Once the tears stopped I came around to tell her the actual team would not be posted until the morning, but my fate was sealed. I agreed to at least wait until the morning to make sure my name was not on the list,

This week in the Daily Hustle (because nobody else is), we want to celebrate The F*It List - Life Lessons From A Human Crash Test Dummy.

While we still try to figure out where our Pulitzer Prize is for this masterpiece, let us grace you with a few small anecdotes of literary greatness...

‍Each day this week, we will share a chapter from different stages of my life that we believe have the ability to resonate with many of our Daily Hustlers on several different levels. For those of you GO HARDS that have already read the F*IT List, this is a fantastic chance to review the experiences and life lessons drawn from them… Way too often, I have read a book that has had an incredible impact on my life only to put it back on the shelf without opening it again. Remember, our brains need to be constantly CHARGED and our attitudes kept in check. The only way to do so is to feed it over and over again… 

For those of you who have not yet read The F*IT List, it’s time to wake the f*ck up and get on it… 

The book was written with the ADHD culture in mind, thus it has been broken into 129 short chapters that allows for easy reading/listening… More than once it has been called a great “bathroom book” so if you feel so inclined to stick it on your toilet, I am happy to share the porcelain with you… 

Today’s chapter takes us back to my St. Francis High School days and is titled: “Names Don’t Matter… People do.” 

----------

Excerpt from the F*It List

 

Chapter 12

Names Don’t Matter… People Do

“What's in a name? That which we call a rose by any other name would smell as sweet.” 

-William Shakespeare

 

After football season, I had a very difficult decision whether or not I was going to play basketball. Hoops was definitely a love of mine, and still to this day, I would argue that the 56 points I scored in an 8th grade basketball game would rank as the greatest accomplishment of my athletic career. Ultimately, my decision was made based on the fact that I felt baseball was my better sport and the basketball season would run several weeks into the start of baseball. Not to mention, if I wanted to make the team, and play more than a few courtesy innings, I needed to get to work and prepare for the upcoming season. Baseball tryouts brought out nearly 50 aspiring freshmen. Only 15 would make the team. The tryout started off with playing catch for 10 minutes, five ground balls, five fly balls, and then five pitches to hit off of a pitching machine. I froze up and took the first one; I swung and missed at the second, swung and missed at third, popped up the fourth, then hit a chopper on the fifth. I figured that was the first-round and we would no doubt get some more pitches to hit. 

I’ll never forget freshman baseball coach Dave Fererra hollering out after I took my feeble cuts, "That's it, you can go home now. The list will be posted tomorrow at 8 am on the south entrance door to Raskob Gym." That's it? That's all? You have got to be kidding me!!! There are 50 dudes out here and that's how you freaking knuckleheads are going to make a decision? I was doomed. I had no chance.

I hopped in Mom's WGN4KID license plated station wagon (no, that’s not a joke) and I started to cry like a 2 year old. All of my hopes and dreams of playing baseball at St. Francis just went by the wayside with five stupid-ass pitches. I wanted out, and I wanted out now. The competition was too much, the athletes too good, and the selection process too ridiculous. "Drive me to Woodside High School (the public school in the area), Mom. I didn't make it." Once the tears stopped I came around to tell her the actual team would not be posted until the morning, but my fate was sealed. I agreed to at least wait until the morning to make sure my name was not on the list,

“Let us try to follow that example with our own children. If we want to raise grownups, there is no better education than letting them be around grown up conversation, and there is no safer place for them to make their first forays (and stumbles) in that world than the seat right next to us.” - Daily Dad 

As parents, it’s amazing how much we try to shelter our kids from the realities of the world... We do everything in our power to make them believe we are living inside the bubble of a Disney movie, and that’s just how this precious little world of flying pigs and dancing unicorns work... 

We do our best to shelter the kids from any sort of atrocities that occur on a daily basis around the globe and even more so in our own home... 

Then, as the kids get older they become exposed to the reality that we don’t actually live in Pleasantville and this isn’t the f*cking Truman Show... 

They figure out that there are sick & bad people out in the REAL world that do evil shit. Many times this reality whacks these kids HARD in the face and leads to all sorts of fears, insecurities & anxiety... 

So what are we as parents supposed to do?