It’s funny how perspective usually arrives decades after you really need it.

When starting high school in a large metropolitan area, there was absolutely nothing I wanted more than to make the baseball team. The sport was always a passion shared by my mother and me. I fell in love with the sport when I spotted the Pittsburgh Pirates donning what looked to me as outlandish yellow pajamas when they won the World Series in 1979. I was only four years old at the time, but I distinctly remember watching the celebration and jammin’ out to We are Family by Sister Sledge. That song is still a banger even if it is more than 45 years old.

At that time, I just assumed I would play baseball through high school and the Pirates would always be good.

I was wrong on both accounts.

When you are getting ready for kindergarten, nobody prepares you for disappointment. Adversity at that age means overcoming the sadness when you learn they don’t offer chocolate milk in those little cartons in the lunchroom. Sometimes, when you try hard and put in the time, you don’t get the results you desire.

Before high school, I was the first one at practice. I hung on to every word the coach had to offer. I spent hours on fielding and hitting throughout the entire year. I did off-season workouts. My preparation was off the charts.

My freshman year, I still got the word that I did not make the team. The coaches liked how I hustled, but they had bigger, stronger athletes with more power and upside. I joined an off-campus team and decided to focus on pitching to make the JV squad. I got beat out by a younger player named Kyle. I felt better nine years later when he started as a pitcher for the Milwaukee Brewers. He was probably better than me. Coaches may have been right. Or maybe Kyle took advantage of the opportunity I was never given.

It still stings.

That sophomore year in high school, I learned a new skill set. And developed a new dream. 

I helped start a men’s volleyball team at our high school. It had never been done before. We ended up playing 10 metro area teams, and I poured my heart and soul into that activity. For the last two years, we were a competitive team, and I was named MVP of the squad in my senior year. I made the most of that opportunity. The attendance for our games was usually about 90 percent less than the other activities like baseball. It didn’t matter. I worked hard to be the best player I could be, and I’m thankful to have had the opportunity.

When people at work mocked me for desiring a career in radio, I put my head down and worked hard to prove them wrong. If given the opportunity, I would make the most of it.

When caring for my adult son with autism spectrum disorder changed my career plans recently, it felt a lot like getting the word my name wasn’t on that baseball roster that day in 1991.

It stung.

It propelled me to create a new dream and to chase new adventures.

I can’t control all of the events in my life. I can control my responses to those events. 

Disappointment stings at any age.

I’m happy for Kyle on his baseball success. Thankful to coach Dan for helping me to improve at volleyball. My hope for the Pirates is still high.

Disappointment can lead to new paths in life.

Perspective.

Tony “Michaels” Michalski has been doing radio for nearly 30 years. He is currently broadcasting high school baseball games on the radio.