“Dad, look I made it!”

“With the third pick in the 2026 MLB draft, the Philadelphia Phillies select…”

“Elijah Green, a Center Fielder from Oklahoma. Elijah is six-foot-four, 250 pounds, and a top prospect from the Phillies Scout team, along with four years at division two and division one schools.” I can’t wait for the time my name gets called.

“I am thankful for the great opportunity given to me by the coaches and scouts throughout the past five years, and mostly thanks to my dad, who didn’t believe I could do it. I. Did. It.” That’s exactly what I’ll say when Dad looks at me standing in front of millions with my head held high. I hold my little league jersey in place of the Phillies jersey I hope to get when I’m older.

“Sounds great honey, but your father just wants you to not go into his path, you know he is sensitive around the topic of baseball and the pros.” Mom knew it better than I did. I am indeed following in the same footsteps as my dad, but I feel that I can do it better. It’s a new age, new players, new coaching, and even new rules. I can do it. I’ve spent hours already dedicating my body to baseball, and it won’t stop there.

The weekend is over faster than it started. Rain shattered the weekend sun and left the fields doused with sadness. I of course have to wake up early every morning and head to the gym, and to no one’s surprise, Druw is waiting for me in the doorway. Our routine begins the same as usual, stretching. My muscles felt strung together and tight. While there isn’t another soul in the cages, I’m constantly reminded of the people my father said were working harder than me. I can’t seem to get it out of my head. Post-workout, Coach Nelly came over to chat about the last tournament of my High School career. The WWBA High School Baseball Championship.

“It’s the last one, you know that right?” Coach Nelly said.

“Yeah.” I think this is the only thing I want to say. I keep replaying the vision of me holding up the trophy in success. All the scouts and dads alike would be watching me and others celebrate. Coach Nelly wants to see my success go further than High School. I couldn’t think of anything to say because I don’t even know where to begin. Nelly is the man who let me take off, and with his big voice and an even bigger heart, he’s truly the one who wants it most for us.

“You boys better take this one home, it’s the last one you’ll get.” 

“Of course coach, we know it better than you do.”

Nobody wants to see us do it. A team of underdogs and nobodies, a group of boys with no prior records in the tournament, and a new team with teammates who lack chemistry. But for those who would figure this out the hard way, nobody wants it more than us. Nelly’s words echo in my ears like they were said in a tunnel, the words kept repeating, processing and replaying again. The last one.

“Elijah put the darn phone down. Who else is sitting around on their phone right now? No one!”

“Sorry, pops.”

“Being sorry won’t cut it. Sorry people don’t go anywhere. It’s why I’m not a millionaire, and neither will you the way it’s looking.”

That one hit me like a freight train. Why can’t he just leave me alone? I don’t get why he is so hard on me when I work out and practice almost every day for multiple hours. Doesn’t he realize all the good things I do for him and my team? Why is he always salty around baseball?

“C’mon, let’s go hit Ej.”

“Be right there, Druw.”

“Welcome to the 2021 WWBA World Baseball Championship!” The loudspeaker blast. My stomach churns like butter, and my head spun like a Merry-go-Round. Thousands of athletes stand hand in hand as the National Anthem plays for the first time in this tournament. Coach Nelly’s words refreshed over and over in my head. This is the last one. At this point, it’s down to who could want it more. The weight is on our shoulders.

Pool play is a breeze. Premier, FTB Green, Five Star National, and Cubs Scout team all were cake. I’m thrilled with our 4-0 finish to put us in first place in the Division. Nerves are becoming a factor though, as I see scouts camped everywhere from top colleges in the nation, like Vanderbilt, Mississippi State, and Tennessee. I know all of the work I’ve put into being here is paying off, but two things stand in my way: my dad and me. 

“Sixteen teams remain, and after this round of games, that number will half.”

“Half…” I’m now thinking to myself. That means eight teams from around the country are going to be in the spotlight of millions. 72 players on and off the field will have eyes of their future on them like beams. Everyone looks stone-faced, eyes cold, bodies ready. But I can’t tell what they are feeling inside. I ask myself one question to reassure my confidence.

Are you going to outwork and outperform everyone else on this field today? To my surprise, the answer is yes.

“Up to bat, from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, number two, Elijah “Ej” Green!” My mind is going insane. If I take a single look back, the camera, the radar guns, the eyes of scouts, my mom, everything I look up to, is sitting right behind the fence. I’m sinking in fear, my body shaking, eyes locked, as the pitcher begins his windup.

“And the pitch…”

“Nice try, boys,” Coach Nelly told us. With all fun comes no winnings. Second place just isn’t good enough. I know I could’ve done so much better. I shake my head in frustration and lack of execution. All of the eyes are leaving us and are going directly to the winning team.
“And your winners are… Canes National!”

Scouts clapping, parents clapping, coaches yelling loudly in happiness as their boys have done it for the third straight year. They are all ecstatic. The boys, now champions, celebrate with ear-to-ear smiles on their faces. But I’m not in the huddle. I am in the dugout simply congratulating just as my dad was twenty-one years ago. I’m falling in his footsteps, aren’t I?

“C’mon, second place again, to those kids, and I bet you they weren’t sitting on their phone all day right before a game. You didn’t see their Snapchat story blowing up with pre-game snaps, now did you?” Dad’s right, but I wouldn’t let him have this one. There just isn’t anything to prove to him. Nothing is going my way, and it’s because I’m not working hard enough for him. 

Emails are dinging on the computer, and for the first time, my dad is smirking, showing emotion. But that would quickly change. College offers, but from who? San Diego, Truman, Tampa Bay, Bentley, Grand Valley, Florida Southern. Division two. Not a single Division one offer.

“See, those Canes boys are committing to Tennessee, Vanderbilt, and Texas. Where are you going, oh, Truman? When was the last time Truman won the NCAA Championships? Never.” Dad is right again, Truman isn’t division one, Truman hasn’t won a championship. I always come in second.

Walking onto the Truman campus is both exciting and disappointing at the same time. Tons of athletes and students walk with me into the main building where I hope to be here for a short time. All of us likely with the same goal. Go division one. As well as all of us with the same realization. We aren’t division one.

“Welcome to Truman College Baseball, I am your coach, you can call me Coach Rick.” This guy sounds just like my dad. 

“I’m glad to have you all with us.” I for sure am not. I bet Vanderbilt has been practicing all winter. Now here I am, a month and a half behind my fellow teammates, likely worse than them all. 

“Up to bat, from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, number two, Elijah “Ej” Green!” My mind is going insane. If I take a quick peek back, the camera, the radar guns, the eyes of MLB scouts, my mom, everything I look up to, is sitting right behind the fence. I’m sinking in fear, my body shaking, eyes locked, as the pitcher begins his windup.

“And the pitch…”

“Great season guys!” 8-8. eight and eight Finishing the season .500 for me is like taking second place once again. It’s overall annoying, and I just want to transfer. The scouts are here for the opponents, the pitchers, not the random outfielders that don’t go division one.

“Have you learned anything? At this point, you should just quit. After college it’s going to be you living at home working at the gas station on Tower St.” Dad isn’t right, Dad will regret this. 

“With the third pick in the 2026 MLB draft, the Philadelphia Phillies select…”

“Elijah Green, a Center Fielder from Oklahoma. Elijah is six-foot four, and a top prospect from the Phillies Scout team, along with four years at division two and division one schools.” I can’t wait for the time my name gets called.

“I am thankful for the great opportunity given to me by the coaches and scouts throughout the past five years, and mostly thanks to my dad, who didn’t believe I could do it. I. Did. It.” I can dream. I dream of speaking to thousands on draft day,

Year three arrived, and as a Junior, I got announced as team captain, but I’m not trying to be. If I am being honest, I kind of want to get out of here. I want to go to division one. My dream still lives. My dad will feel the pain of seeing me succeed unlike himself.

Dear Tennessee University, I, Elijah Green, would like to transfer to the baseball program that your lovely college has… I was the ninth-ranked prospect in my class… I have gotten much better since high school… I am team captain and bat .300…

“Dad I told you this would happen.” I did it. I’m transferring to Tennessee!

“Welcome to the 2021 College Baseball Championship!” Quite honestly, I’m shaking. Yes, I’ve played in the division two championship and the high school championship, but never something quite as scary and nerve-racking as this. This is on TV, this is watched by thousands at this stadium, there are Major League Baseball players and coaches here watching myself and others.

“Up to bat, from Oklahoma City, Oklahoma, number two, Elijah “Ej” Green!” My mind is going insane. If I take a single look back, the camera, the radar guns, the eyes of scouts, my mom, everything I look up to, is sitting right behind the fence. I’m sinking in fear, my body shaking, eyes locked, as the pitcher begins his windup.

“And the pitch…”

Champagne scents linger throughout the campus. I feel the hangover like it was yesterday because it was. It’s only 62 days from the draft day now, and with a walk-off in the National Championship, my hopes can’t be any higher.

“With the third pick in the 2026 MLB draft, the Philadelphia Phillies select…”

“Elijah Green, a Center Fielder from Oklahoma. Elijah is six-foot four, and a top prospect from the Phillies Scout team, along with four years at division two and division one schools. I can’t believe my name is being called.

“I am thankful for the great opportunity given to me by the coaches and scouts throughout the past five years, and mostly thanks to my dad, who didn’t believe I could do it. Dad look I made it.”