The reason I started to love baseball was because of my brothers’ constant success and the fun they clearly had while doing it. The problem with that is the fact that no one seemed to tell me that baseball is actually rarely fun for long periods of time. And the fact that how good my brothers were when I watched them and how good their teams were day in and day out was not a natural occurrence. Everyone also failed to mention how it would be growing up behind them in these leagues and teams.
Now don’t get me wrong, I am so thankful for every opportunity and game I got to play or be in, but at the same time following behind the likes of Jake and Paul Peevyhouse in the state of Arizona was not very fun for a while. Paul was just always this scrappy player, never the biggest or the best, but he would always compete and find a way to succeed and win. No matter what game or who he was playing against he was calm collected and was going to win. It was in his nature. I guess he kind of passed that along to me. That being the will to win, and the want to do anything in order to come out on top. The only issue being I was nowhere near as talented as he was on the mound.
I mean I wasn’t really bad, but like he could dominate and he did more often than not. Thus the lofty expectations I would put on myself began, and never could I reach those, especially in pitching. I would go so into my own head while pitching that more times than I can even count I left the mound in tears and anger and just a sad story. Everyone knew about Paul and his pitching prowess and, up until I was about 14 years old (which was when I stopped for the better), I expected myself to do that. I knew some people did too, so I had to. It wasn’t a want for me. It was just the fact that my oldest brother did it, so I had to in order to impress him and everyone else. I felt that if I didn’t go out and win every game I pitched I was an absolute failure and didn’t deserve to play. Thankfully I gave up pitching and any expectation to be successful before Paul went on to play junior college baseball for Gateway in Arizona where he would be there closer and help lead them to the World Series. While Paul was the beginning of my expectations put on myself, those were only the beginning and when Jake became more and more known, I made myself hate baseball.
When Jake played little league was when s*** hit the fan in the absolute worst way. He absolutely dominated, like the other kids were not even close, he was miles better and flat out dominated. Of course that is little league, but this is a kid where when he decided to not play on an all-star when he was 12 and they lost in the state tournament all the parents blamed him. After they were trying to get him to be put on the roster once he was back from a different tournament. One in which he played along side Zach Davies and Bryce Harper (both major leaguers) when they were 12 in Cooperstown, N.Y. At this point, my expectations really weren’t anything more than a typical little leaguer, I made every all-star team I tried out for, played on good enough travel ball teams to win but not ones like Jake did. I was good, but I wasn’t even close to his talent, and that pissed me off. Why? I have no idea, the kid was basically a God amongst men in his younger years, and I was an average Joe out there.
It was in high school where I made it real bad on myself. Jake was a four-year varsity starter, consistent player who dominated and would get all-league and all-conference honors for Arizona. He would play on the Team Arizona Junior-sunbelt team (top players from each state go to Oklahoma and play in a tournament representing their team), this Arizona Firebirds team that went to New Mexico for the Connie Mack World Series for two years (seven teams from the U.S. and one from the Caribbean play a tournament on television and in front of a lot of major league scouts) and he would commit to Arizona State University as soon as he legally could.
Meanwhile, there I was, barely starting for my high school freshman team, throwing tantrums and breaking helmets all because I took this sport that is just a game and made it all a do or die thing. For the first two seasons of my high school career, I was ruining baseball all because of a simple sentence; “Hey are you related to Jake/Paul Peevyhouse?” This simple phrase made me put more pressure on myself than anything else. No parents or coaches or players or random person ever could come close to what I was mentally doing to myself during baseball games. I was so angry all the time because my brothers were always so wildly successful and they made it seem so easy (pro tip: it's so not easy) that when I didn’t succeed, I was a disgrace and I didn’t deserve my last name. I, myself was ruining the single most important thing I was doing in my life. I was taking all the fun out of it, and I wouldn’t stop doing that until one day it just finally clicked.
On Facebook, I was saying something about baseball and some kid I had never even met before commented, “You suck anyways, you haven’t even made your varsity team yet and your brother did it all four years? Have fun living in his shadow all your life.” That one single comment changed everything. Yeah, I was pissed as all hell at this kid, but for some reason I didn’t respond - and for some reason it made me realize how stupid I was for trying to be like my older brothers. The next two years of baseball were the best I played, and the most fun I had because I finally realized it’s a stupid f****** game and that what I do in that exact moment will never matter to anyone else but me, my family and my teammates. Then, the weight, the pressure, the stupidly high expectations were gone, and this game became just a game. I was actually enjoying myself now, and I was actually becoming a good ball player. Now, it’s taken me to Oregon for college and Colorado this past summer. So thank you random asshole on Facebook four years ago, for you, sir, changed my life and got me to leave Arizona and start where no one knew my brothers.
Until Jake was assigned to a minor league team that was 15 minutes from my college campus - because that’s how life goes, right?
