I’m a professional baseball player. Here’s why the myth of ‘the overnight success’ is so destructive
I’m a professional baseball player. Here’s why the myth of ‘the overnight success’ is so destructive
“Our interpretation of success has set us up for failure.”
Jack Kruger is a catcher for the Texas Rangers. He’s also an entrepreneur, building products in the SaaS, productized service, and cryptocurrency industries. In this guest column, Kruger details his experience as a professional baseball player and deconstructs the myth of“the overnight success.”
I’m a professional baseball player. Here’s why the myth of ‘the overnight success’ is so destructive
By: Jack Kruger
I’ve never met anyone who didn’t want to be an overnight success.
Unfortunately, we’ve dug our own grave. We’ve handed out the title to headline-worthy personas we know little about only to learn through our own trials and tribulations that this glorious title is nothing but a farce. The “overnight success” could be more accurately depicted as the “1,000-nights success.” But if no one saw the 1,000 nights, did they really happen?
As a professional baseball player, I’ve been offered many titles. Some flattering, some not. It’s not surprising — it comes with the territory when your colleagues play on national TV nightly for millions of dollars. As a minor league baseball player with 1 day in the big leagues, I’m hardly living a similar lifestyle.
Unfortunately, our circumstances are significantly different than those of our major league counterparts. Twelve-hour bus rides through the night, endless peanut butter sandwiches, and I distinctly remember a 2-month period where seven of us squeezed into a 2-bedroom apartment. Nevertheless, when we reach the big leagues, we are often dubbed “overnight successes” — never mind the fact that your average major league player spent 5 years in the minor leagues.
I don’t think my story counts as an “overnight success.”
In high school, I committed to playing baseball at the United States Military Academy at West Point. Though it’s possible to play professional baseball after West Point, it’s very unusual. After acceptance and enrollment, I understood that I was likely hanging up my MLB dream. Instead, a bizarre medical disqualification on the first day of summer training sent my West Point plan into a tailspin. With the fall semester beginning in 2 months, I had to find another opportunity – fast.
Thanks to many behind-the-scenes partners in the baseball world, I landed at the University of Oregon. Amidst shock and sadness, I found myself grateful for another Division 1 baseball opportunity.
After a disappointing freshman season, I received a phone call. Oregon pulled my scholarship. Determined to prove my value, I returned to campus for my sophomore year in the best physical shape of my life. But at the end of fall camp, my status worsened: I was 4th on the depth chart at the catcher position.
In an attempt to revive my career, I transferred to Orange Coast College – a junior college in Costa Mesa, California. To this day, it’s still the biggest risk I’ve ever taken. In a moment of daunting uncertainty, it was time to bet on myself.
Though originally skeptical of junior college, I loved my experience — competitive baseball, late-night LA Fitness workouts with teammates, and lots of Baskin Robbins. The risk paid off: I stayed healthy, played well, and earned my way back into D1 baseball. My new home — Mississippi State University.
After a couple of years of heartache and grit, I found myself in one of the most prestigious baseball programs in the country. This momentum catapulted me forward. After a breakout season and a First Team All-SEC honorable mention in 2016, I was drafted in the 20th round by the Los Angeles Angels. The same kid who was 4th on the depth chart a year earlier was now a professional baseball player.
In my sixth season of professional baseball, I finally got the call — I was headed to the major leagues to play alongside Mike Trout, Shohei Ohtani, and Anthony Rendon. Though my time in the big leagues turned out to be short — one day, exactly — it was still perfect. However, I’m almost certain that it would not have been as sweet, rich, and fulfilling if the quest to get there had been easy.
Success is meaningless if not accompanied by an arduous road. The storied pilgrimage is what ultimately makes the mountain top glorious. Without pain, there is no fulfillment — without challenge, there is no reward.
We expect the moment of victory, the mountain top, the crossing of the red tape to plant a monumental stake in the ground: we’ve made it. Instead, what we find is that many of the things we’ve been chasing — once caught — are underwhelming. We expect a filet mignon, but receive a burger from the diner down the street.
Our interpretation of success has set us up for failure. It’s comically ironic considering that we’re addicted to a good story. We scour social media for the business that boomed amidst years of net loss or the athlete who persevered through multiple injuries to achieve a lifelong dream only to return to our own journey with disgust and contempt for our underachievement.
If our journey is tainted with the stench of impatience, we’re missing the crux of success.
There will come a day when your determination, effort, and courage will culminate in the greatest achievement of your life. You’ll spend countless nights fighting for the future you’ve dreamt of for so long. When you reach your mountain top, you’ll be filled with unmistakable joy and unparalleled pride.
And yet, someone will have the audacity to call your blood, sweat, and tears an overnight success.