“One Day” is a firsthand account, written by a professional athlete, of a single greatest moment in their career. This latest “One Day” is from 2009 Atlantic League All-Star Game MVP Mike Just, who has spent time in both the minor leagues and major league spring training.
The best day of my professional career is something I’m very proud of. There have been other eventful moments in my career, but none that can surpass the array of emotion I felt during the 2009 Atlantic League All-Star Game. If I can somehow dip into a tiny portion of my past to give you an idea as to why it was so important to me, then maybe you can sense some of that emotion too.
My career has been a movie to say the least. Sometimes I fall asleep at night wondering if anyone would be interested in scripting the “unusual path to success”, or whatever you want to call it. You see, playing in Independent Ball to most players is a letdown, because they were already in the Big Leagues, or they were knocking on the door, or they received their signing bonus and expected big things, yet before they knew it they were back to square one…fighting once again for an opportunity.
For me, playing Indy ball was the opportunity. The word opportunity in my life, when associated with baseball, has been few and far between. However, when I received a call in July of 2006 to play for the River City Rascals in the Frontier League, opportunity rang.
You see, out of college I wasn’t drafted, yet I had the numbers to certainly achieve that honor. I broke records offensively and defensively of many who were drafted and some who even played in the Big Leagues. A scout, later verified by another coach from the same school, told me that my Head Coach had something to do with it…that he said negative things about me to scouts. I could believe that because I have more info I won’t disclose. Sadly, these things happen all the time for copious reasons. I was devastated when I was told by that scout the day before the draft that I was not going to get drafted by any organization because of what was said about me. The scout turned out to be right. As a matter of fact, he felt so bad for my situation that he made a call for me and got me signed with the Rascals to start somewhere in pro ball.
After leading the Rascals in hitting in 2006, I was willingly traded to the Northern League in ’07 for 5 guys. I was impressed yet shocked that some team in North Dakota thought I was worth half a starting line-up! That year I received Rookie of the Year and was signed by the Houston Astros. Another opportunity and a grand ‘ol one as it seemed! The way I saw it was that I finally made it! I proved that I was supposed to be there. Entering Spring Training I made sure I was ready. I practically did everything right. I played hard, hit well, fielded well, stole bases, and threw hard…what more can you do? I was the last release from their organization at the end of March. I was told it wasn’t because I wasn’t good enough because my nickname amongst the coaches in the organization was “Secret Weapon”, but that there was no room for me. They had to keep the guys they invested money in and see them through. It was just like any other business on Wall Street. Should I have expected them to keep the best guys or play politics? Welcome to what we as business men in the country do best.
Devastated from that false opportunity I called up the Newark Bears who saw me at a tryout in Florida with the Phillies. At that tryout, I went 6-for-9 with two stolen bases and was told by scout Mal Fichman that I could not field and throw. Did he know I had the assists record at my four year college? Did he also know that I only committed 10 errors my entire college career at second base? How about the fact that I only made 23 errors in over 360 games of playing second and third base in pro ball? That’s about an error every 16 games, but that guy can’t field, right? Well Bears manager Wayne Krenchicki and the Bears thought otherwise!
They gave me an opportunity and started me opening day at third base. I couldn’t believe I was playing amongst the guys I was pitching with in video games. I was honored to be on the same field as them, but you better believe when I stepped in the box that their life was not going to be easy. I would make them work to get the “no-named” Just guy out. The season was going well and I was hitting right below .300 at the All-Star break. Not long after that, a Big Leaguer was brought in to play third. I found myself on the bench. Krenchicki gave me an option, he said that I could stay and get in here and there, or I could get traded to a team in another League and start every day. It seemed like a no brainer to me. I can’t get signed unless I’m playing so I guess I needed to take the other opportunity and play everyday.
Before I went in to talk to Krenchicki, Benito Baez (a pitcher for the Bears and strong Christian man) asked me if I prayed about the situation. I myself am a Christian too, but in this situation I figured what was there to pray about? It seems pretty obvious to me. I have to take the opportunity right? Well I decided to pray and I felt a strong peace about staying on the team. We had a Bible study group daily with this team and I was helping some guys out with their life situations. I went in and told Krenchicki and he said “that sounds fine with me.”
The rest of the ’08 season I didn’t play much. As a matter of fact, my average suffered some because of it. But is the most important thing in life someone’s batting average, or the difference they make in someone else’s life? Not long after that Bears season ended, Patrick Stanley turned his life around and became a strong Christian because of our daily talks on the team. God had a plan all along!
During the off-season I wasn’t sure if I should play an ’09 season. I called teams in the Atlantic League, but no one was interested. With one week to go before the start of Spring Training, Butch Hobson and the Southern Maryland Blue Crabs traded for my rights to get me aboard. I was ecstatic! Not only was that the team I wanted to play for, but also my fiancée lives 45 minutes from that field in Maryland.
My motto from the start of the season was to “have fun.” Over the past years I played in pro ball, I was always trying to make it up to the next level that I was forgetting to enjoy my time at hand. I guess life is that same way sometimes.
The season started off well for me and I was confident I was going to prove everyone wrong and do something great. Around the All-Star break I had great numbers! I thought that I had a great shot of making the All-Star team. When the ballots were released and my name was left off of them I was once again disappointed. I discussed the matter with our announcer Paul Braverman and he said that it was completely ridiculous! He did give me hope however because he told me that I could get enough write in votes to still get in. Was this the same false hope that Houston promised when signing me? Also, when you go to a presidential ballot and the occasional idiots write in Hulk Hogan, does he even get a percent? Based on the odds, I figured my “opportunity” was dwindling once again. I played each game hard and hoped and prayed for votes. When Butch sat me down and told me one-on-one that I had made the All-Star team I was in shock. I told him about how I always get screwed in those situations and how I was so thankful I was going! He responded with, “Not this year. I’m your manager now.” What a relief to hear that! My manager was pulling for me! It felt like the first time since high school.
The All-Star game took place in Newark, NJ. I live 25 min. north of there. I had a block of 50 tickets set aside for my friends and family to attend and just about every ticket was accounted for. I knew that this could be something great. My whole career had been a letdown for opportunity up until this point. Carpe Diem came to mind when I was warming up in left field. Could I seize the day? I figured players and scouts might think, “The little Just kid who never had an affiliated at bat should just be thankful he is here.” Perhaps that crossed my mind too, but also what if? What if I take full advantage of this day and do everything right. Would I get signed? It’s not even about that anymore. It’s about much more than a little contract of politics. It’s about proving my right to play against Big League players and making them remember the little Just kid…respect.
It was the fifth inning and we were losing, but not by much. I remember thinking that I have at least two more at bats in the game. What if? What if the game is on the line and I get up? If the score remains similar, they will bring in none other than Armando Benitez…the pitcher I rooted for as a kid. I grew up a Mets fan and I remember thinking as a child, it’s a good thing I don’t have to face that guy. Now I was thinking, that could be my moment to get MVP of this All-Star game and shock my antagonists. But what are the odds everything would fall into place for that to happen? I guess we will see how the pace of the game goes.
Before I knew it I was on deck in the top of the 9th. We were down two runs with runners on second and third and Benitez was on the mound. I knew my friends and family were rooting for the same moment. They knew my career, they knew the letdowns, they wanted me to succeed. “The Art of War” was a book that a friend of mine recommended me to read a few years ago. It primarily discusses how to outsmart your opponent via strategic maneuvers in war. It also tells you to be more prepared about your competition than he will be about you. In battle of “David vs. Goliath” as one article put my encounter with Benitez, I was ready. Watching him throw as a kid, knowing his aggression is his sign of weakness when he gets rattled, even throwing with him on video games…I was prepared. Knowing how all 5’8 of me looks walking into the box, even with a base open, he was going to come after me. Sometimes size can be an advantage if you can strategically plan accordingly.
I was up with two outs. I had visualized the moment an hour ago in the field. I had known I was more prepared than he stepping into that box. I knew this moment for me was a hundred times the moment for him (given where he has been and what he has accomplished.) I was ready. First pitch…fastball, ball one. He snapped at the ball with his glove when the catcher returned the ball back to him. Based on his frustration after that pitch I could figure out that he wasn’t trying to throw a ball. Therefore concluding with what I had originally thought; he was trying to go after me, regardless of the open base. Next pitch…fastball, ball two. Men are on base and the tying run is at second. He knows this, and wants to go after me. Next pitch…fastball, ball three! Could I have over-analyzed the situation? Was he pitching around me? Now I stepped out of the box to take a breather and re-gather my thoughts. I’m not going to second guess myself. The moment is here and it’s now. I’m sticking with the original plan. He’s going after me and I’m not walking. I step in and wait for the 3-0 delivery. Strike. And it was about two inches off the outside corner. Had I made any gestures to go to first, I might have gotten the walk because good umpires can read the hitter’s body language on close pitches.
Instead, I stayed in the box as if I knew it was a strike all along because I wanted to hit. I was destined for this moment. I re-gathered myself under control and waited for the 3-1 fastball. The pitch was on its way and it was hittable. I took a swing and swung right through it. At least I thought it was hittable because I was sitting dead, red fastball. It was a 3-1 slider. As a hitter, if you convince yourself that a certain pitch is coming, you can almost change the look of the pitch halfway to the plate believing that you are right…that is until reality sets in and it moves in a different direction.
It was a 3-2 count. Runners still on second and third with two outs in the top of the ninth. He had thrown a slider on 3-1? The slider wasn’t even his best pitch. His diving split complements his 94 mph sinking fastball exceptionally well. I stepped back into the box with the 3-2 count. I was now thinking slider, but was ready to foul off the fastball if he went with it. It was a good plan because of Benitez’s experience; he saw me look foolish on the 3-1 slider and would most likely throw something off-speed again. The pitch was on its way. I recognize it and instantly think, not a fastball…wait…wait…swing! Foul ball! He threw me a 3-2 splitter. Now I had him right where I wanted him and here’s why. I showed him I’m waiting on his off-speed when I fouled off that splitter. Meanwhile I have yet to swing at one of his fastballs. He knows I’m not a power guy and has no reason to throw three off-speed pitches to me in a row when he throws a sinking fastball at 94! I stepped out and when I stepped back in the box, I stepped a half inch further out from the plate than I had previously set up. It was enough for me to notice a difference, but not enough for the catcher or Benitez. I did this because when he throws that fastball, I want to make sure I stay inside of it. Being it’s sinking hard in on my hands, if I try and pull the ball, I will most likely ground out. I was playing the odds and I was ready for the 3-2 pitch.
Benitez released the ball and it was a fastball which started at the inner third part of the plate and was running towards the inside corner. I kept my hands inside of it and barreled a line drive single up the middle scoring both runners! I had done it! My friends and family where going crazy! I could hear them for the first time all game as I briefly zoned out. But, I quickly regained my focus because I knew my job wasn’t done. The game was only tied. Knowing Benitez and how rattled he must have been at this point, I took the liberty to steal second on the first pitch, figuring that he was focused in on getting the hitter out. I stole it standing up. Luis Lopez, a former Big Leaguer, was up and on the next pitch he ripped a liner to left and I scored the go-ahead run. We ended up pushing across one more run that inning and when Big leaguer Bill Simas came in to close out the game I felt I had captured the opportunity. Could I get the MVP? As we shook hands I heard guys saying to me, “Great job MVP!” I had a flash back.
In high school I hit two homeruns in one game in the County Tournament which tied a County record. They walked me three times in the championship game. One time on four pitches with the bases loaded. When it came time for MVP of the tournament, all the guys were cheering my name and saying you got it. Soon after, they announced a pitcher as the MVP for making a certain amount of appearances. I was dejected. Would this happen again to me?
As I got to the end of the line, Butch Hobson pulled me aside and said wait here. I knew at this point that I had done it. Soon after, Joe Klein the commissioner said congratulations to me as they were presenting the award. I remember the look on my Dad and Mom’s face. My fiancée was shaking and all the pictures were blurry. My friends and rest of the family were standing on the seats screaming. Spencer Ross, the Bears announcer, came out and presented me with the award. I couldn’t say too much in the mic. I was choked up. It was a big moment for me; the biggest of my career and I knew it right then and there. The guys all came to hug and congratulate me. Even guys from the opposing team did the same. I overheard Vito Chiaravalloti say, “He deserves it after what he must have been through because of his size.” If everyone only knew. As the guys walked towards the clubhouse, my family and friends were still there roaring! I held the crystal cup up and yelled to them, “I did it!” As I walked towards my family, the GM of Newark Mark Skeels, who knows my story quite well, stopped me to say, “Walt Disney could not have written this story better. Congratulations Mike!”
Mike Just runs the “Just Hits Professional Hitting Academy” in Montvale, NJ. For lessons, either call (201-264-4308) or e-mail (mike at justhitsllc.com). You can also visit them online at JustHitsLLC.com.
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