A Walk-On’s Blueprint

By Tristan McCraw

I was always a smaller kid growing up.

Guess you could say I was that kid who, without the spark of athleticism I had, could just barely keep from being surpassed by all the bigger kids. 

I was a late bloomer, one could say.

Most of my work on and off the field was done in the shadows. My smaller size threw me into the stereotypical group of trivial athletes lacking physical prowess. Because of that, my family was the only real group of supportive people I had around me. Everyone else, couldn’t really care less how I ever played or was, to be honest.  

The passion comes at all different ages for people but mine came at the age of 3.

Baseball to say the least was and still is my lifeline. It goes beyond personal identity for me. Baseball allows me to express myself in no other way possible. 

The infinite amount of self-expression and passion I found within the game led me into playing baseball full time. I remember always traveling with friends to all sorts of different prospective, club ball events, and tournaments.

Although I had a great time with all this, my long-awaited meeting with reality followed shortly in high school.

High school was just not it.

My physical size made it extremely tough for me to even get a glimpse at the field let alone playing time opportunities. My only varsity innings came my senior night…

Ya, I was that kid. 

When my high school career came to a close I was left with no offers at any level of collegiate competition. 

This led to my only option left, to walk on at a junior college. 

I still remember like it was yesterday that my mom and I drove four hours to the middle of nowhere for me to try and earn another opportunity to play. Unfortunately, I became more of an experiment than a pitcher. Coaches tried working with me on new pitches and deliveries, even at one point recommending that I try to be a “knuckleballer.” For those of you not familiar with baseball, that sort of thing does not really just… happen. 

What did happen however was that I had entered a post-graduate role. 

I know what you’re all thinking. 

That at this point I decided baseball was over and I had had enough.

On the contrary.

I went on to spend almost every waking moment of the day in facilities working. Working on getting stronger, on becoming a better pitcher, and on keeping things upstairs positive. 

I could finally start seeing some light at the end of this tunnel that had started to feel more like an endless abyss at times.

Finally, I was able to climb into the low 90s. This is the speed that almost every division 1 coach needs to see to even let you think about walking onto their field. Luckily for me, I convinced them.

The following fall I walked on at my first D1 school. The hard work and time I had put in seemed to start paying off. I went on to earn a role that season on the 27-man roster that would travel. 

At this point, I honestly thought things were about to start rolling. 

And well, things started rolling, just in the wrong direction.

When I returned to school the next fall I found that a coaching personal change had left me at the bottom of “the totem pole.” Seriously, that’s what they told me. Discarded and categorized as a guy who couldn’t serve a useful role on the team, I was let go. 

Again, I felt like I was back to being the kid who couldn’t compete. 

As an athlete, more or less as just a competitor, this was shattering. 

Dreams and aspirations shattered in hand, I went back to the only place I ever belonged, home.

Not to play or give it a shot at another school but to train. My goal was to become so dominant I could not possibly be turned away. 

And that’s exactly what followed. 

I began waking up every day around 5 a.m. to get my school work done. Then heading to the facility mid-morning and often staying until 8 or 9 p.m. This time grinding and working away changed the trajectory of my career. 

I was able to gain 30lbs and my velocity soared up into the upper 90s. Upon consistently posting my pitching videos on social media and sharing my journey I started receiving offers. This led to me accepting an offer to play at Texas State University that was just too good to turn down. The coaches there believed in me, and I was going to return their investment in me tenfold. 

Looking back at my crazy journey of course I am beyond grateful and excited to continue this chapter in my career. But there is more to it.

The biggest thing I could stress to anyone and want to share with others is one particular element about my story. 

I walked on three times.

Three times, I openly put myself in a situation in which I would have to fight for every moment of playing time and attention. Three times I agreed to go in as the bottom of the barrel.

That’s just it though.

My journey through baseball has certainly been magical. But more than anything I want people to realize how dangerous it is to believe the “stereotypes” around them or made for them.

The only reason I got to where I am today is that I never gave up. 

I refused to believe that because I was smaller or less physically capable than others that I should somehow then be ENTITLED to certain opportunities. 

Entitlement is a dangerous thing.

I have seen it destroy careers and I was smart enough to not let it destroy mine. 

Working hard, staying neutral in thinking, using resources, asking for help, are all great things and yes they helped me get to where I am now.

Just remember to never become entitled.

As players and as human beings we aren’t really entitled to what we think we are. 

Entitlement leads us to believe we do not have to work as hard or that we are owed something we don’t really deserve.

When in reality, being a successful athlete at any level and making it through any level of difficulty in life is about seeking the most out of every situation, culminating in gratefulness for a chance to plan a shot at starting and accomplishing something people thought would be impossible.

What can I say…

It’s the blueprint of a walkon.