Full count with bases loaded

It’s October, which means I recently found $20 in a coat pocket and the World Series are back. Here in NYC, we don’t have any skin left in the game, but back when there was still hope for a Wild Card, way back in September, I found myself at Yankee Stadium. It had been years, as I usually hang with the Mets. I know there are those who find this blasphemous, but I feel like you can enjoy watching both. But besides the point, these were the seats. What’s not to enjoy?

When the Guerrilla Book Club started, a lot was happening. A lot of ‘somehow’ was happening. Somehow, the winning ticket in the Shine On Challenge ended up in my fingers. Somehow, this idea emerged. Somehow, even despite the setbacks, everything happened that needed to happen. Somehow, this herculean endeavor was willed into existence. Somehow, when the idea was first unveiled to a room of 100 bright, beautiful people, they received it with generous love and applause.

And, somehow, one day later, I was approached by a major publishing company. They invited me to discuss all the ways they could help make the GBC happen. Let’s not play coy about this – for a writer, this is like making it to the World Series.

So there I was marching into one of the most coveted publishing HQs in the world. Who the hell was it that walked off the elevator that day, cool as a cucumber? Was it really me? Because 10 years ago me, 5 years ago me, maybe even 3 years ago me, would have lost his shit. How was I not blinded by the twinkling literati stars glistening in my eyes? Perhaps I was just playing coy.

I knew the GBC was a valuable idea, and I knew what we could help publishers do with an idea like this. But I struggled to reconcile my moral instincts with realistic expectations. I didn’t create this whole project for publishers – I created it to help people find a way to positively change each others lives! Still, I wanted it to be successful, and I knew that meant I needed publishers to be my business partners.

We developed some marketing ideas that really would have taken the GBC to the next level. For a couple months, we kept working at it, but it was basically a slow countdown to the realization that it wasn’t our season yet. It was ok, though. I suppose I could have emerged feeling disappointed, but in a strange way, having all our big plans suddenly disappear opened up a new way of seeing things. All the questions I was having about this whole project – how to pull off a far-reaching philanthropic effort that requires hard business acumen – suddenly became crystal clear. I had a perspective I’ve never had before and a new game plan started taking shape.

It was kind of like sitting at that baseball game in September, where I had a perspective I’ve never had before. I could see the gameplay crystal clear. A bird's eye view from behind home plate. I could see the curve of the pitches. I could see the batter’s stance. I could see the demeanor of every player stepping on the field, and the competitive nonverbal dialogue that you never really see from the outfield.

I watched the next batter step up to the plate. I could see the thoughts inside his head as the count kept growing. 0 and 1. The next pitch came in. 0 and 2. 1 and 2. Every pitch that came in, I felt it. Was he ever going to swing? 2 and 2. 3 and 2. We were in the same situation. All of these “somehows” that got the GBC off the ground were all about getting to the plate.

But it’s possible to show up to the plate and still not swing.

You still have to swing. You have to swing for the fences.

Summer is over. The World Series are here, and baseball season is coming to an end. Let’s see if fall holds one more chance for the Guerrillas to knock one out of the park.

Play ball.

#WorldSeries #publishing #baseball