Agitating Claustrobia

The winter isn't a fun time for me. It never has been and unless I leave the frigid northeast, it may not ever be. I look back to high school and wonder what possessed me to want to attend college in upstate New York, where temperatures are rarely above freezing throughout the season. When I was a kid growing up just outside of New York City, all of my peers would be out building snowmen and having snowball fights and frolicking about like young children typically do. But young Josh would sit inside, with no expressed desire to join in the festivities. I've never liked snow or cold weather. And I really never will.

As the month of December nears closer, the cold weather looms even greater. And while my annual misery begins to set in- there is a greater issue that could be overbearing to me. It is something that I've thought about for quite some time, and knew that eventually it would occur. That reality, however, is upon me.

My college team spends our preseason indoors because we have no desire to fight the elements outside. Often times our first time on the field is during our annual trip to Florida to kick the season off, when we can finally set foot on the glorious dirt and grass of the minor league facilities we play on. From the time fall ball ends until that opening day in the 85 degree tropical sun, we spend all of our days indoors preparing ourselves for the season. As preseason rolls along and we progress in our workouts, we begin two-a-days. Waking up every day of the workweek before sunrise to head to the gym and sweat and push through our body's warning signs in order to be physically fit to perform once the season comes. After a while, all of the indoor work that we put in becomes rather frustrating. It is a depressing claustrophobia that sets in throughout all of my teammates. And for me, this winter's claustrophobia may very well be the worst of all.

Having not participated in a competitive baseball game since April, my time has been spent focusing on both the physical progression in the post-op recovery and the immense amount of schoolwork my professors have dumped on me this semester (note to college students: whoever tells you senior year is supposed to be easy is playing a mean joke on you). Much of the mental strength I've developed throughout the process has been outlined here on this blog, and has been found within my friends and family. The support group I have has been incredible, and continues to provide guidance as I move further along. But no one can control the weather. And it is the weather that is going to most likely frustrate me the most coming into the future.

In the past I've pitched competitively until the end of the month of October and then taken a few months to rest the arm. Then it was back on the grind again, getting ready for the upcoming season. Sequentially this makes sense- when the weather gets colder baseball players go inside. But that doesn't mean it is a preferable occurrence. I typically grow antsy as the winter goes along and I yearn to step back out on the field and continue playing the game that I love competitively...and that break is only for a few months. Thus far I've sat through a college postseason, an entire summer season and an entire college fall season without being able to step on the field. Now of course, that is not to say that I didn't enjoy the weather because I did. I just couldn't enjoy the baseball field.

Now that the winter is beginning to set in, that claustrophobia is magnified to an extent that I am highly unfamiliar with. Not only can I not enjoy a competitive game of baseball, but I can't even enjoy being outside anymore. My girlfriend has proclaimed that she's bracing herself for the misery I am most likely going to cause with my complaining, and to tell the truth she is probably right (if you read this Nicole I just publicly stated that you are right...you're welcome). And when the weather turns once again, I won't be able to enjoy the field with my teammates for several months after that.

One particular reason I feel as though this winter will wreak havoc on my mental ability to stay sane indoors is because of my throwing session yesterday. Yesterday marked the first day in which I was due to move up in the throwing program, and I threw 50 throws from 45 feet at about half effort. After warming up and releasing the ball a few times, I let one go and my throwing partner caught it right in the middle of the web. I instantly heard a loud pop that echoed throughout the arena. I smirked a little bit, reminiscing. I missed that sound...the pop of the leather mitt when the ball has enough velocity to make that sound. I didn't realize how much I missed it.

Tomorrow I'll step back into the arena and throw once more, and continue to do my physical therapy exercises. I hope that I hear the popping sound once more...that it'll give me the ability to build my confidence up ever so slightly. In the upcoming weeks I'll do the same, over and over and over again.

Unfortunately all of this will occur in the confines of Dewar Arena at the Alumni Field House. I'll have to trudge through the sorrows of winter entrusting the man-made radiators to dictate the temperature of my surroundings. And when the sun creeps out and the snow begins to melt in the spring, I'll be ready. Whenever that may be.