Take Me Out To The Ball Game
I wake up bright and early.
Another night spent dreaming of untold riches.
I sleep the same way I live – driven, focused…a man and his mission.
Sitting up, I exhale any of the doubt that rests in my belly. Inhale the collective wisdom of business titans who came before me.
Will this finally be the day my ship comes in?
If I see it, I can be it.
Time for some morning crunches. Fitness in the body leads to strength of the mind. And a cash windfall to come.
The foundation for success? Confidence. I say a few affirmations aloud. Taking a quick look under my boxer briefs and nodding with pride.
Not bad.
Not bad at all.
Bounding to my feet as if launched by a rocket ship, I make my way to the bathroom. Time is money. Did I wake up with some aches and pains like all the other humans? Maybe. But I’m too focused on making my first million to feel any of that. Mind over matter. Gotta show this day who’s in charge.
My mama didn’t raise no fool.
I splash cold water on my face. Catch a peek of my reflection in the mirror. Look myself right in the eyes. Much like the way Hugh Grant stared at Julia Roberts in the classic rom-com Notting Hill.
I fall in love with myself all over again.
This is how I begin each morning.
Time to get to work. Sun isn’t even up yet. An entire world sleeps peacefully while I’m on the hunt for financial freedom. Like a lion prowling across the jungle for food. Hungry for my pot of gold. Do I know exactly when lightning will strike? Of course not. So I stay laser-focused. Both eyes wide open.
This lion is always ready to pounce on the right opportunity.
I walk right past my coffee machine. Laughing at it as I boot up my laptop. People really need mugs of liquid energy?
Not this guy.
Already high on the natural caffeine known as life.
Any of my mornings could become the day. That’s why I keep all my bases covered. I’d rather die than let my Entrepreneur magazine subscription lapse. Go ahead, try to find an online deal forum I’m not subscribed to. Good luck with that. Better buy a scientific calculator if you want to add up the hours I spend chasing my home run. Do I listen to moneymaking podcasts? That’s like asking if a Kardashian likes selfies. This is what I do. I’m a hustler. By keeping every iron in the fire, I will eventually find my jackpot. Look, I even cut coupons and trim my own hair just to be able to throw a few bucks at memecoins that might explode. I’ve started dozens of businesses. Sit through countless seminars. Literally dig through piles of dusty junk at estate sales every weekend. Always striving for a big win. Treasure hunting. With as much passion as Leo DiCaprio in a roomful of 25-year-old models. If there’s a monetary bonanza to be had, you’ll find me nearby. My eBay feedback number? About as high as Warren Buffet’s net worth. All my waking hours are spent pursuing money. Looking for opportunities.
Mama didn’t raise no fool.
I woke up even earlier than usual today. A very rare schedule change. Had to get the daily hustling in before gametime. See, my parents are loyal sports fans. And, apparently, there’s some kind of huge home run record about to be broken today. Not sure of the details. And I’ll never understand why people enjoy sitting around watching other adults play with a ball. I think sports fandom might actually be a mental condition. Essentially paying money to waste time that could be spent making money. But it’s my mom’s birthday and she wants her son at the game…
Fine.
I’ll make this one exception.
Yada yada yada, so I’m here at the baseball game and my parents are having a blast. Cheering along with the other fans. Me, I’m just trying to get some work done on my phone. Not an ideal office setup, but opportunities are always knocking. And I’m willing to turn over every rock to find them. On the other hand, these people around me are staring at a bunch of grown men wearing pajamas. Random strangers swinging a wooden stick. Then, out of nowhere, everyone starts cheering loudly. It distracts me from my treasure hunting – but only for a split-second. My focus is like that of a surgeon. Better believe I have the ability to refocus myself.
Wait, why is the entire stadium standing up in unison?
Everyone in my section is reaching for the ball coming right at us…
My own parents look like a pair of enthusiastic toddlers with their hands waving at the air.
Working diligently on my phone, I feel something bounce into my lap. A slight distraction from the workday. So, I grab the object – an annoying little baseball – and shove it into my jacket pocket. Then return quickly to my mobile treasure hunt. In the midst of all these overgrown children wrestling around me. Can’t anyone see I’m working here? Now the usher from my section wants to be involved. He asks me to join him in a private room. Apparently, none of these people have any respect for the pursuit of riches. A team executive hands me an autographed jersey in exchange for the ridiculous ball. Ok, fine, whatever. I really do need to get back to my seat. Gotta turn over the next rock.
After all, my pot of gold could be right around the corner.
I hurry back to my section. Should’ve pointed out the excruciatingly slow wifi in this stadium. Oh well. Too many lost minutes already. Really need to get back to work. But now my parents keep distracting me with questions about where the ball is. Why so much yelling and screaming? Sports fans. Always some kind of panic at these games. I refocus on my work…asking my mother to stop bugging me about the ridiculous baseball. Not like I even have it anymore. I point to the jersey I exchanged it for. Wait, why does she look so pale? Almost as if she’s seen a ghost.
What’s she saying? There’s no sound coming out of her mouth.
I lean in.
Try to read her lips…
And, in a breathless whisper, she cries out:
“I raised a fool.”
—
Editor’s Note:
Here’s my creative process with something like this…
1 – Reading an article about yet another working Joe who caught a baseball worth six or seven figures.
2 – Trying to comprehend why so many of these guys hand over a life-changing gift in exchange for some merchandise. Basically giving it away for a pat on the back – from a team worth billions.
3 – My brain gets fried trying to figure it out.
4 – Pictures grow in my imagination. Becoming a daydream, maybe even a night dream. Eventually those pictures turn into a story that I share with you.
Anyway, that’s where this comes from. Have a great October!
(Oh, and if you happen to catch a baseball that could buy you a house…maybe hang on to it)
