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AJPettersen

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Blog Entries posted by AJPettersen

  1. AJPettersen

    Moving On

    By AJPettersen,

    We laid down on the floor for our last official night. The last night was spent the same as the first-on something other than a real mattress. Full circle.
     
    I always told myself I would be done playing if I experienced a long period of time without enjoyment. Passion and heart are what got me to such a point in my career and without them, it would become increasingly difficult. As this season wore on, I started to lose that heart and passion for playing the game I love. Managers, coaches and teammates noticed I wasn't the same guy I once was. My performance dropped, it wasn't the same as it had always been. For whatever reason, I didn't have the drive I once had. As my passion for playing wore off, my passion for coaching and teaching became even stronger. In Fort Myers, I was able to give tidbits of mental wisdom I had gained to young prospects. In New Britain, I discussed approaches with teammates. This kept me going, but I knew it couldn't sustain me as a player. So I retired from my professional career.
     
    Many people told me along the way to play until someone tore my jersey off and that's the way I played until this year. I gave baseball my all until the end, but once I lost that feeling, I didn't need the jersey ripped off because my dreams and priorities had changed. In my eyes, this didn't make my career a failure, it just made it complete. It was time to be done.
     
    I beat so many odds to play for as long and at as high of a level as I did. My parents thought I would grow up to be an artist when I was younger. Overnight, I became athletically inclined. At age 10, people said I ought to play 2B because I would never be big and strong enough to play SS. I didn't make the varsity team in high school until my junior year. I thought I would have a nice Division 3 college career until the head coach at Holy Cross told me I had what it took to be a Division 1 player. Later, I would sign to play at the University of Minnesota. Still I was seen as a 2B because I probably wasn't going to have much chance of playing SS at that level. I had no pro aspirations, I just wanted to get in the lineup. A little over a year later, I was Baseball America's First Team Freshman All American SS. A few years after that the Twins called my name in the 25th round, which may have been the most emotional moment of my career. I remember looking back in time that day and wondering how it could be possible. Two years later, I was the first player from my draft class to reach AA.
     
    Beyond all the accolades and accomplishments, the relationships I have made are what I will take with me. I met my wife through a baseball connection. Four of the groomsmen in our wedding were teammates of mine at one point. I stay in close contact with many former coaches.
     
    I learned a number of lessons through the game as well. I learned how to interact and communicate with people from all different backgrounds. I learned how to work through the lowest lows, I learned how to deal with the highest highs. I learned how to cope with stress in a game where every move you make is seen.
     
    So, as my wife and I roll along on one more cross country trip, we talk about what's next and we ponder the future. We are excited about the unknown and that we will be going into it together. We will never forget the memories we have forged through my playing career and we are looking forward to forging more in whatever is next.
     
    I want to thank my wife for putting up with me, for traveling all around the country and for always supporting me. My family members were the best fans-thanks for great advice, answering late night phone calls and living the dream with me. I also want to thank everyone else who had an impact on my career at any time and the Twins for the incredible opportunity to play professional baseball. Thank you to the Twins Daily community for following along and for caring to read my thoughts and ramblings.
  2. AJPettersen

    Moving On

    By AJPettersen,

    We laid down on the floor for our last official night. The last night was spent the same as the first-on something other than a real mattress. Full circle.
     
    I always told myself I would be done playing if I experienced a long period of time without enjoyment. Passion and heart are what got me to such a point in my career and without them, it would become increasingly difficult. As this season wore on, I started to lose that heart and passion for playing the game I love. Managers, coaches and teammates noticed I wasn't the same guy I once was. My performance dropped, it wasn't the same as it had always been. For whatever reason, I didn't have the drive I once had. As my passion for playing wore off, my passion for coaching and teaching became even stronger. In Fort Myers, I was able to give tidbits of mental wisdom I had gained to young prospects. In New Britain, I discussed approaches with teammates. This kept me going, but I knew it couldn't sustain me as a player. So I retired from my professional career.
     
    Many people told me along the way to play until someone tore my jersey off and that's the way I played until this year. I gave baseball my all until the end, but once I lost that feeling, I didn't need the jersey ripped off because my dreams and priorities had changed. In my eyes, this didn't make my career a failure, it just made it complete. It was time to be done.
     
    I beat so many odds to play for as long and at as high of a level as I did. My parents thought I would grow up to be an artist when I was younger. Overnight, I became athletically inclined. At age 10, people said I ought to play 2B because I would never be big and strong enough to play SS. I didn't make the varsity team in high school until my junior year. I thought I would have a nice Division 3 college career until the head coach at Holy Cross told me I had what it took to be a Division 1 player. Later, I would sign to play at the University of Minnesota. Still I was seen as a 2B because I probably wasn't going to have much chance of playing SS at that level. I had no pro aspirations, I just wanted to get in the lineup. A little over a year later, I was Baseball America's First Team Freshman All American SS. A few years after that the Twins called my name in the 25th round, which may have been the most emotional moment of my career. I remember looking back in time that day and wondering how it could be possible. Two years later, I was the first player from my draft class to reach AA.
     
    Beyond all the accolades and accomplishments, the relationships I have made are what I will take with me. I met my wife through a baseball connection. Four of the groomsmen in our wedding were teammates of mine at one point. I stay in close contact with many former coaches.
     
    I learned a number of lessons through the game as well. I learned how to interact and communicate with people from all different backgrounds. I learned how to work through the lowest lows, I learned how to deal with the highest highs. I learned how to cope with stress in a game where every move you make is seen.
     
    So, as my wife and I roll along on one more cross country trip, we talk about what's next and we ponder the future. We are excited about the unknown and that we will be going into it together. We will never forget the memories we have forged through my playing career and we are looking forward to forging more in whatever is next.
     
    I want to thank my wife for putting up with me, for traveling all around the country and for always supporting me. My family members were the best fans-thanks for answering late night phone calls, great advice and living the dream with me. I also want to thank everyone else who had an impact on my career at any time and the Twins for the incredible opportunity to play professional baseball. Thank you to the Twins Daily community for following along and for reading my thoughts and ramblings.
  3. AJPettersen

    Moving On

    By AJPettersen,

    We laid down on the floor for our last official night. The last night was spent the same as the first-on something other than a real mattress. Full circle.
     
    I always told myself I would be done playing if I experienced a long period of time without enjoyment. Passion and heart are what got me to such a point in my career and without them, it would become increasingly difficult. As this season wore on, I started to lose that heart and passion for playing the game I love. Managers, coaches and teammates noticed I wasn't the same guy I once was. My performance dropped, it wasn't the same as it had always been. For whatever reason, I didn't have the drive I once had. As my passion for playing wore off, my passion for coaching and teaching became even stronger. In Fort Myers, I was able to give tidbits of mental wisdom I had gained to young prospects. In New Britain, I discussed approaches with teammates. This kept me going, but I knew it couldn't sustain me as a player. So I retired from my professional career.
     
    Many people told me along the way to play until someone tore my jersey off and that's the way I played until this year. Once I lost that feeling, I didn't need the jersey ripped off because my dreams and priorities had changed. In my eyes, this didn't make my career a failure, it just made it complete. It was time to be done.
     
    I beat so many odds to play for as long and at as high of a level as I did. My parents thought I would grow up to be an artist when I was younger. Overnight, I became athletically inclined. At age 10, people said I ought to play 2B because I would never be big and strong enough to play SS. I didn't make the varsity team in high school until my junior year. I thought I would have a nice Division 3 college career until the head coach at Holy Cross told me I had what it took to be a Division 1 player. Later, I would sign to play at the University of Minnesota. Still I was seen as a 2B because I probably wasn't going to have much chance of playing SS at that level. I had no pro aspirations, I just wanted to get in the lineup. A little over a year later, I was Baseball America's First Team Freshman All American SS. A few years after that the Twins called my name in the 25th round, which may have been the most emotional moment of my career. I remember looking back in time that day and wondering how it could be possible. Two years later, I was the first player from my draft class to reach AA.
     
    Beyond all the accolades and accomplishments, the relationships I have made are what I will take with me. I met my wife through a baseball connection. Four of the groomsmen in our wedding were teammates of mine at one point. I stay in close contact with many former coaches.
     
    I learned a number of lessons through the game as well. I learned how to interact and communicate with people from all different backgrounds. I learned how to work through the lowest lows, I learned how to deal with the highest highs. I learned how to cope with stress in a game where every move you make is seen.
     
    So, as my wife and I roll along on one more cross country trip, we talk about what's next and we ponder the future. We are excited about the unknown and that we will be going into it together. We will never forget the memories we have forged through my playing career and we are looking forward to forging more in whatever is next.
     
    I want to thank my wife for putting up with me, for traveling all around the country and for always supporting me. My family members were the best fans-thanks for answering late night phone calls, great advice and living the dream with me. I also want to thank everyone else who had an impact on my career at any time and the Twins for the incredible opportunity to play professional baseball. Thank you to the Twins Daily community for following along and for reading my thoughts and ramblings.
  4. AJPettersen

    The Greatest Gift

    By AJPettersen,

    I laced up my spikes for another opening day, my 4th as a pro. Over all the years of playing, there have been a number of memorable moments. They can be best described by the feelings that accompanied them. The feeling of over 10000 fans shaking the ground beneath me at an NCAA regional final, the feeling of winning a Big Ten Championship, the feeling of clinching a playoff berth. It's feelings like these that stick in my head, it's these feelings that keep me trucking along.
     
    For so long, I have been on a quest for these feelings-splitting my attention between my quest and the seemingly mundane parts of the game. As professional seasons drag on, people often refer to players "grinding it out." I have bought into this mentality, trying to grind through the tough parts of the season to get to the meaningful moments-the big games, the playoffs, the extra inning finishes. For the past three years, these meaningful moments have been short lived and I have gone home wanting more.
     
    As humans, that's our nature. It's built in for us to be on the lookout for these times, these great feelings. We want a grand memory to hold in our minds. This way we can look back on our lives with joy. But what if we didn't have to look back?
     
    My friend, Charlie, recently sent a message wishing me luck on the season. He is a retired professional pitcher who now works with my dad. The last paragraph of his note caught my attention-
     
    "See it and hit it, guy. Savor the liners and the 3 for 4 days. No matter what, just do your thing. It's all cake."
     
    Lately, I have begun to look for these feelings in everyday life, trying to experience the big moments in the small and mundane times. The feeling of a barreled ball in batting practice becomes different, a range play off of a fungo becomes something more. Truthfully, it's the same feeling I get when I'm on a walk with my wife, in the living room dancing with my niece, or watching football on a Sunday afternoon on my parent's couch. I have been "savoring" these times. Paying closer attention to them-savoring the feelings, savoring the small moments.
     
    Less and less time is spent looking back on old moments or towards new ones when I realize they are always right in front of me. I can experience that joy every day, all the time. I'm not expecting anything big, just looking for life to happen and appreciating it when it does. That is the greatest gift-joy is always attainable, even in the smallest of moments.
     
    So this season, my battle and my grind is to stay focused on the little things. To appreciate the mundane moments I had previously skipped over. To savor each and every one of them, to spend less time searching and more time experiencing. Because at the end of the day, "it's all cake."
     
    Follow me this year on Twitter! @apettersen1
  8. AJPettersen
    He was there again this morning. In khaki shorts, an old t-shirt and a ball cap, he was unassuming. He easily could have been missed, but I noted his presence in the back of my mind. The first time I saw him, I couldn't figure out the meaning. He wound up and fired again and again. His easy left handed arm action suggesting he had done this many times before. The big wall in the center of the complex was his catcher, returning each throw on a roll so he could reload and unfurl another. Every pitch made the same low pitched 'thump' as the previous one. He needed no crowd, no cheers, no teammates. It was only him and the wall.
     
    Old lefty, what are you teaching me?
     
    I stumbled upon the article written by ex-big leaguer Adrian Cardenas again. In it, he details the reasons he quit baseball. Initially, I thought it was well written and interesting, but I didn't think it applied to me. While I appreciated the quality writing and the challenge to the norm, I couldn't relate to his reasoning. Then I read it again and the ending stuck out:
     
    "For whatever reason, I was never the sort of player who could enjoy a game, a play, or a hit before moving on to prepare for the next one. It was only after I quit that I wished I hadn't always kept my head down, relentlessly climbing to reach the top of the game, to fulfill an American dream. I wish I had looked up more often, even at the cost of some of my success. The American dream didn't tell me that an experience only matters if I acknowledge it, that losing yourself in the game is a good way to lose what makes life meaningful. When you're standing at the plate and you hit a sharp foul ball to the backstop, the spot on the bat that made contact gets hot; the American dream forgot to tell me to step back and enjoy the smell of burnt wood."
     
    Ex-big leaguer, what are you teaching me?
     
    So often I look for what's next. In minor league baseball, this is the steep mountain each player is attempting to climb. I slowly make my way up, but there is always the possibility of falling. So I keep my head down, only occasionally appreciating the moment, constantly worrying about the future. This can motivate, but it fails to encourage what Cardenas calls "acknowledging the experience." If I am always looking for what's next, what am I missing right in front of me?
     
    How often do you do this in your own life? How often do you reach for what's next, without acknowledging your experience? How often do you stop and appreciate the seemingly meaningless events that happen every day? How often do you enjoy the smell of burnt wood?
     
    So on a quiet morning, I have acquired wisdom from watching the old lefty. And on a slow evening, I have understood the cry of the ex-big leaguer. They both have taught me an important lesson-gratitude for each moment, each feeling, is the best way to gain experience. The quickest way to a more fulfilled life is appreciation for what is right in front of me-the feeling of fresh dirt beneath my feet and laces on my fingers. It is these present moments, on and off the field, where I find joy. So I hope more often this year I can stop and be grateful for the sounds, the smells and the moments just as they happen, because that's the way they were intended to be experienced. Whether it's professionally or as an old man throwing the ball against a wall, that feeling is never far away.
    Follow me on Twitter! @apettersen1
  9. AJPettersen
    He was there again this morning. In khaki shorts, an old t-shirt and a ball cap, he was unassuming. He easily could have been missed, but I noted his presence in the back of my mind. The first time I saw him, I
    couldn't figure out the meaning. He wound up and fired again and again. His easy left handed arm action suggesting he had done this many times before. The big wall in the center of the complex was his catcher, returning each throw on a roll so he could reload and unfurl another. Every pitch made the same low pitched 'thump' as the previous one. He needed no crowd, no cheers, no teammates. It was only him and the wall.
     
    Old lefty, what are you teaching me?
     
    I stumbled upon the article written by ex-big leaguer Adrian Cardenas again. In it, he details the reasons he quit baseball. Initially, I thought it was well written and interesting, but I didn't think it applied to me. While I appreciated the quality writing and the challenge to the norm, I couldn't relate to his reasoning. Then I read it again and the ending stuck out:
     
    "For whatever reason, I was never the sort of player who could enjoy a game, a play, or a hit before moving on to prepare for the next one. It was only after I quit that I wished I hadn't always kept my head down, relentlessly climbing to reach the top of the game, to fulfill an American dream. I wish I had looked up more often, even at the cost of some of my success. The American dream didn't tell me that an
    experience only matters if I acknowledge it, that losing yourself in the game is a good way to lose what makes life meaningful. When you're standing at the plate and you hit a sharp foul ball to the backstop,
    the spot on the bat that made contact gets hot; the American dream forgot to tell me to step back and enjoy the smell of burnt wood."
     
    Ex-big leaguer, what are you teaching me?
     
    So often I look for what's next. In minor league baseball, this is the steep mountain each player is attempting to climb. I slowly make my way up, but there is always the possibility of falling. So I keep my
    head down, only occasionally appreciating the moment, constantly worrying about the future. This can motivate, but it fails to encourage what Cardenas calls "acknowledging the experience." If I am always looking for what's next, what am I missing right in front of me?
     
    How often do you do this in your own life? How often do you reach for what's next, without acknowledging your experience? How often do you stop and appreciate the seemingly meaningless events that happen
    every day? How often do you enjoy the smell of burnt wood?
     
    So on a quiet morning, I have acquired wisdom from watching the old lefty. And on a slow evening, I have understood the cry of the ex-big leaguer. They both have taught me an important lesson-gratitude for
    each moment, each feeling, is the best way to gain experience. The quickest way to a more fulfilled life is appreciation for what is right in front of me-the feeling of fresh dirt beneath my feet and laces on my fingers. It is these present moments, on and off the field, where I find joy. So I hope more often this year I can stop and be grateful for the sounds, the smells and the moments just as they happen, because that's the way they were intended to be experienced. Whether it's professionally or as an old man throwing the ball against a wall, that feeling is never far away.
    Follow me on Twitter! @apettersen1
  10. AJPettersen
    I awake with sore hands and forearms, worry and stress cause me to clench my fists while I sleep-an outward manifestation of an inward feeling. My body tenses up in a reaction to the stresses of life. The only way I am able to defend against my stress reaction is through letting go, through surrendering. The truth is-open hands are always better than clenched fists.
     
    I cut through the Florida morning fog on the way to the complex and see the sun rising over empty fields. I walk into the clubhouse to over 100 peers. Over 100 teammates. Over 100 opportunities. This small space packed full of dreamers used to be chaos to all my senses, but now it appears different. I have changed its meaning.
     
    I have dreamed of playing big games on big stages since I was a kid, but the more I play, the more I realize that the journey has been the dream all along. Recently I have wondered if the journey is about more than me. I would love to make a career out of baseball in the big leagues, it is something I strive for, but what if it's about something more? What if I could be a small piece of someone else's dream? What if a little encouragement or advice could help them make a career out of playing in the big leagues? How cool would that be?
     
    I return home to see my parents have arrived-they are on vacation from Minnesota. They greet with smiles and hugs. Their presence reminds me of the wisdom they have shown throughout my life.
     
    My mom has struggled to see me fail over and over, but she let it happen because she knew I needed to learn. She has an incredible heart and she constantly reminds me that I ought to strive to have a heart like that for others.
     
    My dad still texts me before games and reminds me to play free. He knows that in the letting go, I am able to be my best. When I free myself of stress, worries and angst, I play differently.
     
    What if everyone let go and worked, learned or played freely? What if we set aside our own stresses and concerned ourselves with the stresses of others? What would that look like?
     
    I lay my head down for the night and mark a successful day because my journey has taken an unexpected, profound twist that has left it with far more meaning than before.
    Follow me on Twitter this year! @apettersen1
  11. AJPettersen
    I walked outside to grab the mail and a little girl came whizzing by on a bike. She stopped when she saw me. I knelt down and introduced myself, "I'm AJ," I shook her hand. "Hi, I'm Olivia," she responded. She told me she was 6 years old, later I met her twin 4 year old siblings, Alexis and Ray. They were all so full of life.
     
    I saw them the next day, and the next. Pretty soon they were ringing the doorbell everyday to ask if I could come out and play. Now, each day at 4:30, we hang out. We walk and talk. I hear about school projects, about home experiments, about weekend plans. Sometimes the light can shine through when you least expect it.
     
    Spring training is approaching fast. It's a month full of questions. Where will I be this season? Will I be around at all? The stress starts to mount as the chaos of 150 guys in one clubhouse is about to commence. I get sucked up in it all, worrying about what coach thinks what and what player ends up where. But everyday at 4:30 my friends are waiting for me and they don't care about those things.
     
    They remind me of myself when I was younger. The days when I would just go play, without attaching a stigma to the playing or stressing about where the next game would occur. I would live for the day and play until it was time to go in, then I would wait for the next time. Culture has a way of skewing what playing is really all about.
     
    I play a game for a living, it's the same game I played when I was 5, 15 and it's the same one I play now at 25. Somewhere along the way I started to stress about things that weren't connected with the playing. Things outside of my control. This is what makes me most thankful for my new friends-they play as I should. Why can't I be the same? They play to enjoy it and when it's over, they wait for the next chance. How simple.
     
    So I will continue to play with my friends-go on walks, ride bikes and scooters, because I know that's what I need. They will keep me playing in the present and they will stop me from worrying about the future. I have a lot to learn from Olivia, Alexis and Ray-they are who I was, and who I ought to be.
     
    Follow me on Twitter this Spring Training! @apettersen1
  12. AJPettersen
    I walked outside to grab the mail and a little girl came whizzing by on a bike. She stopped when she saw me. I knelt down and introduced myself, "I'm AJ," I shook her hand. "Hi, I'm Olivia," she responded. She told me she was 6 years old, later I met her twin 4 year old siblings, Alexis and Ray. They were all so full of life.
     
    I saw them the next day, and the next. Pretty soon they were ringing the doorbell everyday to ask if I could come out and play. Now, each day at 4:30, we hang out. We walk and talk. I hear about school projects, about home experiments, about weekend plans. Sometimes the light can shine through when you least expect it.
     
    Spring training is approaching fast. It's a month full of questions. Where will I be this season? Will I be around at all? The stress starts to mount as the chaos of 150 guys in one clubhouse is about to commence. I get sucked up in it all, worrying about what coach thinks what and what player ends up where. But everyday at 4:30 my friends are waiting for me and they don't care about those things.
     
    They remind me of myself when I was younger. The days when I would just go play, without attaching a stigma to the playing or stressing about where the next game would occur. I would live for the day and play until it was time to go in, then I would wait for the next time. Culture has a way of skewing what playing is really all about.
     
    I play a game for a living, it's the same game I played when I was 5, 15 and it's the same one I play now at 25. Somewhere along the way I started to stress about things that weren't connected with the playing. Things outside of my control. This is what makes me most thankful for my new friends-they play as I should. Why can't I be the same? They play to enjoy it and when it's over, they wait for the next chance. How simple.
     
    So I will continue to play with my friends-go on walks, ride bikes and scooters, because I know that's what I need. They will keep me playing in the present and they will stop me from worrying about the future. I have a lot to learn from Olivia, Alexis and Ray-they are who I was, and who I ought to be.
  15. AJPettersen

    New Cast Day

    By AJPettersen,

    After I received so many responses on my first post, I decided it would be cool to continue updating the Twins Daily community on my progress. Hopefully my journey provides everyone with a little insight into something different in the world of professional baseball.
     
    Today is exactly 13 days post op for me. My wife and I took a short jaunt down Highway 52 to Rochester and the Mayo Clinic. On the docket was a switch from a splint to a hard cast.
     
    We arrived at the 15th floor for my appointment. It's the kind of place that offers a surprise behind every door. Door A for pre op, door B for surgery, door C for casts-a super utility floor for a super utility guy. Makes me feel right at home.
     
    I was extremely excited for the arrival of a real cast as it meant a return to exercise, and a possible return to video gaming.
     
    The nurse came in and started cutting away, she got through all the fluff to reveal the forearm of a 7th grade boy. What happened?
    [ATTACH=CONFIG]5773[/ATTACH]
    You don't want to see what's under there
     
    A new nurse named Bill entered with the PA who was present during my operation. She said Bill was the best at this-he had been doing it for 33 years. He was an experienced casting magician.
     
    After my arm was cleaned and sanitized, he started the wrapping process, I swear I heard him call out a few spells under his breath. After sufficient pre-wrapping material, Bill started with getting the hard plaster material wet. He used some more wizardry and the cast began hardening.
    [ATTACH=CONFIG]5771[/ATTACH]
    Going to need a silver sharpie so all my friends can sign it
     
    When the PA returned I asked an important question regarding video games. She said one hour of Madden at a time would suffice.
     
    Working out for the first time in a couple weeks felt great, even though I am still unable to use both arms. I thought it would only prevent me from doing bench press and push-ups. What I didn't imagine was...tying my shoes. I mean really, have you ever tried to tie your shoes with one hand? Do yourself a favor and do the one-handed shoe tying challenge today. It is incredible. I used my teeth and my other foot, and eventually got them tied loosely.
     
    The next step to look forward in my recovery is when the hard cast comes off in four weeks.
     
    I hope you enjoy a look inside my rehabilitation. While not one journey is the same, many ball players go through the process sometime in their career.
     
    To follow my journey and the randomness that the offseason often brings, check me out on Twitter- @apettersen1
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