| Marshal Davis |
Senior shortstop Marshal Davis, in his fourth and final seasonas a Roadrunner in 2009, will write a blog about the ins andouts of the two-time defending Southland Conference Championshipbaseball team for goUTSA.com this spring. The Conroe native is a two-time team captain and he entered his final campaign having played in 126 games (117 starts) with a .255 batting average, 14 doubles, five triples, 47 RBIs and 84 walks.
Tuesday, April 28 ? "Practice"
Two weeks ago, one of our games was cancelled during the week, allowing for three consecutive practice days in a row. This is a major rarity with our treacherous schedule in which we usually average five games for every seven days. With all the travel and games, we hardly get one practice in a week, so three is completely out of the question.
I think a lot of things motivate the baseball athlete. Some guys long for the competition. They want to outperform the team on the other side and, most importantly, they want to win. The competitive nature drives most athletes. Some are competitive in a team perspective, some in an individual perspective, most in a cocktail of the two. Competition is at the core of the game of baseball. If you're not going to play to win, then why play at all?
Three days of practice is God send for me. I don't say that flippantly, because I love practice and enjoy it immensely. Maybe because I'm the analytical type, but I like to break down every single ground ball and every single swing in the batting cage. There is something therapeutic about it. I love competition, don't get me wrong, but practice has a special place in my heart.
Practice is a time where competition is laid aside and it becomes just about you and the game, striving for perfection and excellence. No scout is picking apart the way you field or opposing team trying to find the hole in your swing. It's just you and yourself, bonding with the game, honing your ability to greater skill than ever achieved before.
Grumbles and frustrations surround practice at times. Especially in the Texas heat in the middle of the long season and the stresses of school, mainly our upcoming final exams, begin to weigh heavily on our minds. However, practice always has been a love of mine, a passion so to speak. The sweat and dirt, the monotony and tediousness, the inglorious and unrecognized moments. Those are the moments I love and will miss when it is all said and done. Not the competition.
Monday, April 20 ? "Change"
This morning I woke up and looked up at the ceiling. The same white paint cracking over my bed that has been there for the past three years since I moved in to this house. Not much has changed in the appearance in the last three years. Maybe a few knick knacks here and there that have been picked up along the way. There's a little more dust on the fan there was a few years ago (yes, I have dusted it), but things seem pretty much the same.
Life on the other hand, seems to be different every day. Even in the monotonous routines of everyday living, little deviations occur throughout each day that make them unique. At 23, I do not feel like I'm old and definitely not wise, but playing 16 years of baseball has shown me a lot of different perspectives. I was just thinking about how many jerseys I have worn at UTSA alone, different styles and different colors. There are way too many to count up or remember. There has been so many things that have changed in my life.
However, a couple things do not ever seem to change in my life. Regardless of what's going on and how different the day is when the sun breaks through in the morning, love, faith and baseball (maybe I'll talk about the former in the future) always seem to remain constant. Baseball seems to transcend time in my life. No matter school during the day, the lack of sleep the night before or how bad the morning has been, I can always look forward and treasure the three hours out on the baseball field.
There is just something so pure about the game. It's a perfect balance of individual effort mixed with team determination. Baseball remains steady. Minor differences in rules, but there are not enough to impact the game. The smells, beauty and sounds of the game. Baseball has become a sanctuary of sorts. It is a place for rest and peace. Few words can describe the feelings of being on the baseball field and competing from day to day.
I'm glad I have baseball with all the change and uncertainty in the world. There are not many things you can count on, but each spring, the sun warms the grass and, as flowers begin to bud, baseball players lace up their cleats and take the field. Many people do not understand the game and I'm not even sure even do, but there is something great, wholesome and right about it. It teaches those who play, humbles them often and gives people joy unlike any other sport can.
Wednesday, March 18 ? "Our Day Off"
In a busy season, it is important to treasure your days off. I'm going to take you through our day off this week to give you a little insight into the day of a college baseball player. The glamorous, exciting and desirable life of the college student-athlete.
Technically our day off starts at midnight, where I find myself arriving at the front of the Convocation Center from our trip back from Arlington this past weekend. Caught in the half-awake, half-asleep state, I head off the bus and out to my car. I always tend to fall asleep five minutes before we arrive home. I drive home and consider unpacking, but then I realize we leave the next day and I have one less clean underwear than I need for the trip the next day. I decide to sacrifice and stay up and do the much-needed laundry. As my last load gets done in the dryer, I lay down my head for the night at 2:30 a.m.
I awake startled by my alarm at 7:30. I have to quickly shower, repack and get to school to meet my teacher for all the classes I have missed in the past couple of weeks. I pass fellow players with baggy eyes as I try to will myself awake on the walk to class. After a overwhelming meeting with my teacher, in which I realize I'm a month behind it seems, I have to head off to the 40-foot limo waiting for us, also known as our bus. I then arrive at airport and scramble for the "right" seat on the plane.
After we land in Dallas, we have layover and it is there that I muster up the courage to walk up to Donald Braswell, who was a recent finalist on NBC's America's Got Talent, and I have a brief, albeit interesting, conversation with him. At the same time, I wish someone would tell the Dallas-Love Field airport their air conditioning is broken. Now we get on another flight, this time I'm one of the last to board, so it's an all-out fight for my seat. A old man in front of me goes to the restroom. I eat a few peanuts and the old man goes back to the restroom. An hour and a half later, we arrive in Kansas City! We finally get to our destination, Manhattan, Kan., after a two-hour bus ride. It's now 8 p.m.. I eat dinner and crash into bed with some homework that needs to be done. Absolutely exhausted, I fade off to sleep.
Think you know what playing college baseball is like? Well, that was our relaxing day off from our busy schedule.
Monday, March 2 ? "Meeting At The Mound"
After each win, we line up in the middle of the field and congratulate each other on the victory. Each guy gets to see the eyes of every teammate and, in brotherly love, give him a high five. Sounds corny on paper, but for each guy, we long for that "meeting at the mound" after the game. The culmination of hard work and good play for three hours is rewarded in those 45 seconds.
It was windy and bitterly cold in Tulsa, Okla., this weekend. VERY windy and VERY cold. Enough so that on the ride home, cheers and claps sprung forth as we crossed state boundaries into the 'promised land' with a big sign that read "Welcome to Texas." It will not be a road trip that will be soon forgotten in the near future. Entering the clubhouse after Sunday's win, I began peeling of my eight layers of clothing, and eight is not an exaggeration, it is literal. With each layer I took off, I felt the weight of a long weekend in the Sooner State being taken off my shoulders. It was a disappointing weekend because we lost two out of three against a quality Oral Roberts team.
I recently came across a quote by author and inventor Robert Kiyosaki, "The size of your success is measured by the strength of your desire; the size of your dream; and how you handle disappointment along the way."
Three things have changed in my tenure here; the desire instilled into each player, the size of each player's dream; and the success that has come from the former two.
This year's team has taken it even further. The goals have been limited in my first three years. Either to win this title or achieve a certain goal that we could see with our two eyes. Eight games into this season, our desire is burning and my small eyes can barely contain the enormity of our dreams. We have set ourselves to expectations beyond anything ever imagined before. Our desire and dream is there.
Which leaves the last part of the quote, handling disappointment. How we handle adversity will determine our success this spring. It was frustrating to lose the first two games of the series and it would have been really easy to cower in the corner on Sunday, but I feel as though it was our deep desire and aspirations that prepared us to bow our necks and face the adversity to persevere in game three. So I held my head high and was proud of the 30 guys that battled and met me on the field after the game. Adversity and disappointment presented themselves and we met them face on.
I truly look forward to many more "meetings at the mound" this season.
Wednesday, Feb. 25 ? "When Day One Comes"
After nearly eight months, we laced up our spikes and took the field last weekend. Eight months can be both a long and short time. After redshirting last season, adding another 12 months to the eight made me very anxious to get out and don the Roadrunners blue and orange again.
I say that eight months can be a short and long time because each day as you count down to the first pitch of a new season, minutes feel like hours and days feel like years. Time creeps as you look forward to running out onto the fresh cut grass and raked dirt for the first time. There is nothing like it. Short because, as I sit in the locker room and realize today is the first day, I look back and wonder where the last year went. It seems like a blur. Am I ready? Have I lifted hard enough in the weight room? Have I taken the extra swing I need or the ground ball to my backhand?
With anything new, uncertainty makes itself present. In my locker, I sit and look to my left and right as new faces surround me. In five years, many names and men have been lined next to me. Many stories of accomplishments and disappointments come to mind. Many trials, battles, victories, joys and heartache. I grab hold of the past good memories and cannot help but crack a smile.
It seems like the younger guys on the team always get dressed the fastest and are already out waiting for the bus, blissfully ignorant to the grueling season ahead. Meanwhile, the older guys, like myself, seem to take it a little slower and take in every second before the treacherous battles begin. Experience tells me that there is no rush, it will go by quick enough, and therefore I try to cherish even the smallest of things.
As I walked toward the bus for the first time this season yesterday afternoon, I breathed in the fresh spring air and the warm sun hit my face. In a two-minute walk to the bus, many questions arise. Questions that will only be answered in the next five months. Will this team meet its potential? Will the early-morning workouts and running to the point of exhaustion be enough? Countless hours of training, lifting weights and three-hour practices prepare us for what is ahead. Are we, in fact, ready?
As I threw my bag under the bus, I took a look up to the beautiful sky, took a deep breath and climbed the steps up the bus for the first time in more than a year-and-a-half. Everyone is there (I’m usually the last). I did a quick scan of the faces to see the atmosphere of the team. With each pair of eyes I looked in to, I felt what they felt. One guy was bubbling with excitement. The next was anxiously waiting or maybe even nervous. Each guy has a different story and emotions. I felt each of them as I took my seat in the back of the bus. I took off my hat and gazed to my left out the window. I replayed each guy I just made eye-contact with and took it all in. I thought about the work of each and every one of them put in every day for the past eight months. Another smile overtook me as I stared off into the distance. A smile for what is ahead. A smile knowing we are prepared as much as anyone in the country. A smile of anticipation and confidence. It will be a fun season and, most importantly, we are ready for what lies ahead.