The Character Test

Don’t wish it were easier, wish you were better

Everyone wants the big job. The important project. The responsibility. The promotion.

But the truth is, most people don’t want to hear: your character shows up in the small stuff first.

When someone is given a simple task, something basic, even minuscule, and they underperform, it tells you everything you need to know about that person.

Because that task wasn’t given to insult you. It wasn’t given because you’re not capable of something bigger.

It was given because details matter, and the small things are where you learn them. The small tasks are where you dial in your work ethic and where you learn to take pride in your work and your company.

Every. Little. Detail.

Washing dishes. Cleaning countertops. Dusting shelves. Wiping menus. Putting things back where they belong.

There’s a moment in Memory of a Killer where Dutch breaks it down in a way that sticks. He tells Joe that washing dishes isn’t about dishes. It’s about discipline. It’s about doing something simple, the right way, every time. Because if you cut corners there, you’ll cut corners everywhere. https://www.hulu.com/series/cb030381-ce34-4204-86ba-ba6fcff7d5b1?cmp=&utm_source=bing&utm_medium=cpc&utm_campaign=&utm_term=memory%20of%20a%20killer&&msclkid=1664af4b69c517bebd40c6a546b13ed7&gclid=1664af4b69c517bebd40c6a546b13ed7&gclsrc=3p.ds&gad_source=7&gad_campaignid=23234781091

Do the job the right way, even when nobody is watching… Because the truth is, someone is always watching.

Those small actions reveal something important: PRIDE.

People who take pride in simple work tend to be the ones trusted with complicated work later.

The opposite is also true.

If someone can’t handle the small things with care, attention, and effort, then handing them a bigger project with dozens of moving parts isn’t a promotion. It’s a disaster waiting to happen.

Because bigger jobs are just hundreds of small details stacked together. For example, my business could use someone to take on more responsibilities, but that pride and character we look for hasn’t presented itself just yet.

And if you ignore the little things, the big things collapse. Every great worker, leader, or craftsman understands this instinctively.

You earn trust by proving one thing first:

That no job is beneath you, and every task you touch will be done the best way you know how.

Not because someone told you to. But because that’s who you are.

Waiting in Queue of Life

You ever sit on hold during a phone call or stuck in a drive-thru line and start thinking, this is taking way longer than it should?

You check the clock. You shift in your seat. You start debating… Do I hang up? Do I pull away? Or do I just keep waiting?

Lately, that’s exactly what my life feels like.

Like I’m in a queue. Waiting.

Waiting on answers about my health. Waiting on doctors to decide what comes next. Waiting on someone else to come up with a plan for my life.

I’ve done everything I’ve been asked to do… and I’m still here.bStill waiting.

And then there’s the bigger question that creeps in when things get quiet…

Where am I actually going? How long is it going to take to get there?

And the one that hits the hardest… Do I ever get there at all?

Because I don’t mind working. I never have. I love cooking. I love creating. I love giving people something they enjoy.

But right now? I don’t get to do that.

And maybe one day I will again. Maybe I’ll get back to doing what I’m good at, what I love.

But until then… I’m stuck in the queue.

And the longer I stand here, the more I start thinking about everything I’m missing.

Not just retirement, that fantasy we all chase like it’s guaranteed, but the simple things: Travel. Time with people who matter. Sitting in a chair with a book and no interruptions.

I see people my age doing those things… and yeah, there’s a little jealousy there. I won’t pretend there isn’t.

Because while they’re moving forward… I’m still waiting for my number to be called.

They say timing is everything. That everyone’s opportunity comes at a different moments.

Maybe that’s true. But waiting has a way of messing with your head.

It makes you compare timelines. It makes you question your path.

And if you sit there long enough… it starts to break your faith in the whole process.

People love to say, “Be patient. Trust the process.” But what if the process never calls your name?

So then you start asking different questions…

Is this time supposed to be preparation? Am I building something while I’m stuck here?

Because if I’m being honest… I don’t feel prepared for some peaceful, easy life down the road.

And that’s when the hardest truth shows up. We love to blame external factors, bad timing, bad luck, things outside our control.

And sure, some of that is real. But not all of it. Some of the reasons I’m still in this line?

They’re mine. Bad decisions. Wasted money. Choices that felt small at the time but stacked up over years.

Nothing intentional. But real, nonetheless. And those things? They don’t just disappear.

They stand right in front of you… holding your place in line.

So for now… I stay on hold. In the queue.

Not because I love it. Not because I believe in it.

But because I don’t know what happens if I step out of it. And maybe that’s the real question… How long do you stay in line before you finally decide… to hang up?

Growth Over Ego

The moment you stop defending… is the moment you start improving

“I used to think being right meant I was winning. Turns out, it just meant I wasn’t learning.”

Back in the 90’s, my family owned a small dive bar in Follansbee, West Virginia. Behind the bar hung a simple sign:

“Politics, religion, and high school football are prohibited.”

Not because those topics weren’t important, but because they were guaranteed to turn a conversation into an argument, and an argument into something worse. Everyone had an opinion. More importantly, everyone believed theirs was the right one.

Looking back now, that sign wasn’t really about avoiding conflict.
It was about managing ego.

And ego shows up everywhere.

It shows up in business.
It shows up in leadership.
It definitely shows up when you’re dealing with people.

I’ve seen it firsthand with staff over the years. You can explain exactly how you want something done… clearly, repeatedly, and still watch people default back to their own way. It’s easy in those moments to think, “They’re not listening.”

But growth forces you to ask a harder question:
“Am I communicating this in a way that actually connects?”

Because leadership isn’t about being right. It’s about being understood.

Before owning a business, I spent time in law enforcement. And like a lot of people in that field, confidence comes with the territory. You have to trust your instincts and make decisions quickly.

But there’s a fine line between confidence and ego.

If I’m being honest, there were times I didn’t think I was wrong, often enough to cost me opportunities to learn. And I saw others take it even further, where being right wasn’t just a belief… it was their identity. And that’s a dangerous place to live.

Because the moment your identity is tied to being right, you stop being open to being better.

One of the best reminders I’ve come across didn’t come from business or law enforcement… it came from the mats.

At my jiu-jitsu gym, there’s a decal on the front door:

“Leave Your Ego At The Door.”

And inside one of my gis, it says:

“Flow without ego.”

You can’t learn if you’re trying to prove something. You can’t improve if you’re too busy defending yourself.

The mat has a way of humbling you real quick. It doesn’t care about your opinions, your past, or your excuses. It just shows you where you stand and where you need to grow.

That lesson applies everywhere.

In conversations.
In leadership.
In life.

There’s a quote from Charlie Kirk that fits this idea well:

“You should be constantly testing your beliefs against others. If your ideas are strong, they’ll hold up. If they’re not, you’ve just learned something.”

That’s the shift. Ego wants to win the argument. Growth wants to understand why it was wrong.

And the truth is, most of us walk around thinking we’re open-minded… until we’re challenged. That’s when ego shows up. That’s when we defend instead of listen. Someone once told me, “it’s hard to listen when your mouth is always open” They weren’t wrong.

But if you can pause in that moment, just long enough to ask, “What if I’m missing something?” That’s where real growth starts.

Not in proving a point. But in being willing to reconsider it. Because at the end of the day, being right doesn’t make you better.

Getting better does.

So the next time you feel the need to defend your position… ask yourself—are you protecting your ego, or pursuing growth?

Building Culture or Tearing It Down

“A man’s character isn’t measured by the job he has, but by how well he does the job in front of him.”

There’s a silent problem happening in a lot of workplaces today, and most people don’t even realize it’s happening.

It’s not bad management. It’s not low wages. It’s not even the economy.

It’s culture.

And culture isn’t created by mission statements, motivational posters, or manager speeches. Culture is created by what people are willing to do… and what they refuse to do.

In today’s society, too many people believe certain work is beneath them.

The janitor is treated differently than the CEO.

The dishwasher is overlooked while the chef gets the praise.

The person sweeping the floor is invisible to the person signing the checks.

But here’s the truth most people miss:

The tedious work is what keeps everything running. Floors have to be swept. Bathrooms have to be cleaned. Equipment has to be wiped down. Prep has to be done. Trash has to be taken out.

These aren’t glamorous jobs. No one brags about them. But without them, businesses fall apart faster than people realize.

You can have the best leadership, the best product, and the best marketing in the world… but if the little things stop getting done, the entire operation slowly starts to decay.

I’ve seen it happen more times than I can count.

The Family Business Trap

In family-run businesses, there’s another problem that quietly develops.

When employees don’t do the small jobs, the family steps in and does them.

The owners start to clean, wipe and pick up, where employees don’t.

Someone stays late or comes in on closed days to clean and prep what should have been done during a shift.

At first, it seems like the responsible thing to do. You care about the business, so you pick up the slack. But over time, something dangerous happens.

Employees learn a lesson without anyone saying a word:

“If we don’t do it… the family will.”

And just like that, culture starts rebranding itself.

Not because employees are bad people, but because standards are no longer enforced. The invisible work always gets done… just not by the people who were supposed to do it.

The “That’s Not My Job” Mentality

One of the biggest cultural shifts I’ve seen over the years is the rise of the phrase:

“That’s not my job.”

When people start deciding which tasks are “beneath” them, the entire system breaks down.

Successful teams…. whether in sports, the military, or business, all share one common mindset:

Everyone handles the small stuff.

The small tasks are not punishment.

They are the foundation.

When the small things are handled well, the big things become easier. But when the small things are ignored, the big things start falling apart.

Pride in the Work

Some of the best workers I’ve ever known weren’t the ones with the biggest titles.

They were the ones who took pride in whatever task they were given.

Mopping restrooms? Dusting shelves. Raking yards. Shoveling walkways.

They made sure it was all perfect and spotless. They didn’t leave a trail behind them.

It wasn’t about the job itself. It was about pride in doing something well.

That kind of mindset is rare today… but when you find it, it changes everything.

Culture Is Built Through Standards

Here’s the reality most owners eventually learn:

Motivation doesn’t build culture. Standards do. Clear expectations. Accountability. Consistency.

Not speeches. Not slogans. Not empty promises.

If the soda gun needs cleaned, it gets cleaned.

If the floor needs swept, it gets swept.

If the fryer needs scrubbed, it gets scrubbed.

And when it’s someone’s responsibility, they own it. Not tomorrow. Not when someone reminds them.

Right now.

The Hard Truth

When a business starts struggling with culture, it’s easy to blame employees.

But the truth is a little more uncomfortable.

Culture is built or destroyed by what leadership allows.

If the small jobs are constantly ignored and someone else quietly fixes them later, the standard slowly disappears.

People don’t rise to unspoken expectations. They rise to enforced ones.

Respect the Broom

A workplace becomes a stronger place to work when people respect every job, from sweeping the floor to running the company. Because when people take pride in the small things, the big things take care of themselves.

But when the small things are ignored, the entire system begins to crack.

Culture isn’t built by titles.

Culture is built by the willingness to do the work that no one else wants to do.

And sometimes the most important tool in any business isn’t the computer, the fryer, or the cash register.

It’s the hands that hold the mop.

Pride in the Small Things

I was watching a scene from A Memory of a Killer recently that stuck with me.

In the scene, a young guy finishes washing dishes and thinks he’s done. The boss checks them and tells him to do them again because they aren’t clean enough. The kid protests, saying someone else doesn’t even do dishes. The boss responds with something simple but powerful: when his own son had that job at the same age, the dishes were spotless because he had pride in his work.

When the kid shrugs and says, “It’s just dishes,” the boss gives the real lesson.

It’s not about the dishes.

It’s about being given a task and doing it right.

That scene resonated with me because it reminded me of something I learned long before I ever ran a business.

My first job started at midnight.

I worked for the city park and pool from midnight until eight in the morning. While most people were sleeping, I was cleaning bathhouses and helping with pool maintenance. It wasn’t glamorous work. Nobody was applauding the guy scrubbing floors in the middle of the night.

But looking back, those hours taught me something important: the size of the job doesn’t determine its importance. The pride you take in doing it does.

Later on, when I worked for a tree service, I learned the same lesson again. After the cutting was done, I was told to rake and sweep the yard and the street. Nothing fancy about that job either. But I made sure that place was spotless when I finished. The yard looked better than when we arrived.

That’s when it really clicked for me.

Small tasks aren’t meaningless. They’re where character is created.

Anyone can step up when the moment is big and everyone is watching. But the people who take pride in the small jobs, the unnoticed ones, the ones nobody brags about, those are the people you can trust with bigger responsibilities.

Great responsibility isn’t handed out randomly. It’s earned in the smallest tasks.

Because the way someone handles a simple job tells you exactly how they’ll handle a complicated one.

The task may be small, but the character it reveals never is.

If the City Manager Runs the City… Who Exactly Are We Electing?

I’ve been thinking a lot lately about how city government actually works, not how it’s explained in civics class, but how it functions in real life.

Take a city like Steubenville.

We have a city council made up of seven members. We have a mayor. We have a city manager. We have full-time police and fire departments that constantly need funding for equipment, training, and staffing, along with neighborhoods that need representation and real attention.

And like a lot of taxpayers, I keep coming back to one simple question:

Who’s actually in charge here?

Because from the outside looking in, it feels like everyone has a title, but nobody has clear responsibility.

In our system, the city manager runs day-to-day operations. They oversee departments, budgets, and execution. For all practical purposes, they are the CEO of the city.

The mayor? Mostly ceremonial. Runs meetings, represents the city at events, and breaks tie votes. Which raises an uncomfortable question: could those duties be handled another way and save taxpayers money?

City council approves budgets, passes ordinances, and hires the city manager, but they don’t run departments or manage operations. They create laws, yet they aren’t responsible for enforcing them.

So when residents see police officers needing equipment or firefighters asking for resources, frustration builds quickly. Taxpayers naturally wonder why solutions move so slowly when so many elected officials are involved.

And that’s where confusion turns into distrust.

Because when something goes wrong, responsibility becomes blurry.

Residents blame the mayor, who doesn’t control operations.
Council points to administrative limits.
The city manager, the person running daily operations, isn’t elected by voters.

Everyone holds authority, yet no one appears fully accountable.

To be fair, this system wasn’t created by accident. The council-manager model was designed to prevent corruption and political favoritism (unfortunately, these still exist) by separating politics from administration. The idea was simple: let professionals run the city while elected officials set policy and represent the people.

On paper, it makes sense.

But in smaller cities facing tight budgets and aging infrastructure, the structure can start to feel disconnected from reality. Essential services fight for funding while residents struggle to understand who is responsible for fixing problems.

And maybe that’s the real issue.

We elect council members to support, represent, and solve problems within their wards and neighborhoods. If residents don’t see that happening, it’s fair to ask why those positions exist at all.

The question isn’t whether these roles should exist…. it’s whether the people holding them are visibly leading, communicating, and owning decisions.

Because government works best when responsibility is clear.

Right now, many residents are left wondering:

If the city manager runs everything… who exactly are we electing?

And more importantly, who answers when things don’t get done?

Welcome to Social Media: Where Everyone Talks and Nobody Listens.

Social media is a lot like Peter Parker’s famous lesson, with great power comes great responsibility.

At least, that’s what it started as.

For me, social media was originally about connection. Keeping in touch with friends and family. Networking. Creating group pages where coworkers, relatives, and communities could actually communicate and help each other. It felt useful. Positive. Almost… wholesome.

Then the pages multiplied.

“I’m From This Town” groups. Neighborhood watch pages. Crime alert feeds. Jeep groups. Toyota groups. BMW groups. Hobby communities. Local discussion boards.

And honestly? Most of them began with great intentions. Need advice on a vehicle modification? Ask the group.
See a safety issue in your neighborhood? Share it.
Want to warn people about a hazard or help someone solve a problem? Post it.

Simple. Except somewhere along the way, the problem stopped being the platform… and became the people using it.

Now, genuine questions are labeled stupid. Helpful posts get mocked. Someone trying to inform others gets buried under sarcasm, criticism, and outright bullying. Half the comments are people tearing someone down, and the other half are arguing with those people.

We’ve somehow turned community spaces into digital food fights.

Tone doesn’t translate well online. Humor gets mistaken for insults. Sarcasm becomes outrage. Someone is always offended, someone else is always furious, and the modern battle cry has become “FAFO”, usually typed by someone who has probably never confronted anyone face-to-face in their life.

Let’s be honest: most keyboard warriors wouldn’t say a single word in public. The confidence only exists behind a screen, drinking a diet Dr. Pepper.

And yet, here’s the irony, we’ll all keep using social media.

Some of us use it for genuine connection. Some to share experiences, journeys, and photos. Some to learn. Some to help.

But understand this: even your happiest moments… your vacation, your success, your progress, will attract negativity.

Not because you did anything wrong.

But because jealousy and boredom are powerful motivators for people whose biggest adventure is scrolling through someone else’s life.

Social media didn’t change humanity.

It just gave everyone a microphone.

Confusing Attention With Relevance

Why Social Media Has Turned to Sh*t (Even Though Many of Us Still Use It for Good)

There was a time when social media actually meant something. People shared ideas. Businesses connected with customers.

Conversations, actual conversations happened.

Now?

It’s a digital carnival of noise where attention is mistaken for importance and relevance is buried under a pile of fake outrage, staged videos, and algorithm-chasing nonsense.

Somewhere along the way, we stopped asking “Is this valuable?” and started asking “Will this get clicks?”

And that’s when everything went sideways.

Attention Is Not the Same as Relevance

Let’s clear something up that social media desperately refuses to understand:

Getting attention doesn’t mean you matter. It just means you were loud enough, absurd enough, or annoying enough to interrupt someone’s scroll.

“Look at this!”

“Watch till the end!”

“Most people can’t answer this!”

“How many dots do you see?”

None of it is insightful. None of it is meaningful. It’s mental spam.

Attention is cheap. Relevance is earned.

But relevance takes effort, honesty, and God forbid, thought. So instead, people chase the fastest dopamine hit the algorithm will hand them.

Algorithm Farming: The New Side Hustle Nobody Admits

Let’s call it what it is: algorithm farming.

Posting content designed solely to trigger:

comments – arguments – outrage – emotional reactions

Not because the creator believes it. Not because it adds value. But because engagement equals visibility, and visibility might equal money.

“How many dots do you see?”

“If you believe this, unfollow me.”

“Only idiots disagree.”

It’s not conversation, it’s bait. And millions of people take it daily.

The worst part? The algorithm doesn’t reward truth, intelligence, or usefulness.

It rewards:

anger – stupidity – division – repetition

So guess what rises to the top? Fake Videos, Fake Reactions, Fake People

AI voices. Scripted “random” encounters. Influencers pretending they just discovered something groundbreaking that’s been common knowledge since 1998.

Everything feels staged because most of it is.

We’re watching people perform authenticity for engagement, while real experiences get buried because they’re not dramatic enough to trend.

Reality doesn’t scream. Clickbait does.

“If You Voted for ___, Unfollow Me”

This is where social media fully jumped the shark. Instead of discussion, we get ultimatums. Instead of nuance, we get tribal warfare.

It’s not courage. It’s not conviction. It’s insecurity disguised as a moral stance.

Shutting down conversation isn’t strength…. it’s fear of being challenged.

And ironically, the people screaming for tolerance are often the least tolerant of disagreement.

Why This Makes Social Media Miserable

Most of us didn’t sign up for this.

We joined to: promote our businesse – stay connected – share ideas – learn something new

Instead, we got force-fed outrage, nonsense, and fake urgency.

The problem isn’t that social media exists. It’s that it’s been optimized for engagement at the cost of sanity.

And your brain feels it. That constant low-level irritation? That feeling of being talked at instead of talked to?

That’s not you aging into irrelevance. That’s you recognizing bullshit.

The Quiet Truth

There are still people using social media the right way:

creators – small business owners – educators – thinkers

They’re just harder to hear over the noise. Social media didn’t turn to shit because people stopped caring. It turned to shit because attention became more valuable than integrity.

And until relevance matters more than reach, the loudest voices will keep winning, regardless of how empty they are.

If you’re exhausted by social media, congratulations. It means you still have standards. And in a world addicted to clicks, outrage, and fake importance, that alone makes you relevant.

Things I’m Supposed to Accept… But Don’t

We live in a world where inconvenience is enforced immediately, but accountability moves slowly… or sometimes not at all.

There are things everyone pretends make sense, and I’m not buying it anymore.

Ladies and gentlemen, I keep being told everything I’m about to mention is normal. That it’s just how business works. Just how people are. Just how the world is.

Today I’d like to submit a simple argument: normal is not the same thing as reasonable.

Let’s start small.

It is apparently normal to drive fourteen miles down the interstate with your turn signal on, passing exit after exit, never turning. At some point you stop wondering if it’s accidental. Eventually, everyone else just adjusts, drives around the confusion, and moves on.

That’s what acceptance looks like. Not agreement …. exhaustion.

Now let’s talk about business.

Every business depends on basic services like trash pickup. You sign a contract expecting a service, not a lifetime membership. Shop around, find a better rate, try to make a smart financial decision, and suddenly leaving becomes nearly impossible.

Cancellation windows, automatic renewals, clauses buried deep enough to require a legal team and a flashlight. Contracts so complex David Blaine couldn’t escape them.

A service confident in its value doesn’t need traps to keep customers.

And then there are issues that stop being frustrating and start being serious.

We are told justice is blind. We are told accountability applies equally. Yet time and again, ordinary people face immediate consequences while powerful people seem protected by delay, influence, or silence.

Justice loses credibility the moment people believe status changes outcomes.

We fine ordinary people instantly.

We bind businesses with contracts they can’t escape.

We tolerate daily dysfunction without question.

And when accountability approaches the powerful, suddenly patience becomes endless.

Maybe the issue isn’t confusion.

Maybe we understand perfectly, and we’ve simply been told long enough to stop objecting. I don’t accept that anymore.

And if questioning that makes me unreasonable, then maybe reasonable isn’t the standard we should be defending.

The ABC’s of Baseball… and Life

For years, my son played travel baseball.

And during a few of those seasons, our travels took us to Aberdeen, Maryland.

What started as another stop on the travel-ball map turned into something much bigger. Not only did we face some seriously competitive baseball, but we also met a lot of great people along the way. One person, in particular, left a lasting impression on me, Billy Ripken.

Yes, that Ripken. Brother of Cal. But Billy wasn’t there to talk about stats, trophies, or highlight reels. He talked about something far more important: how to approach the game.

Billy introduced the players to what he called the ABC’s of Baseball… a simple framework, but one packed with lessons that went way beyond the diamond.

The ABC’s of Baseball

A – Abner Doubleday. The beginning. The game wouldn’t exist without him (1839).

B – Bunting. (1st learn how to hit)

C – Compete. Compete with yourself. Compete with teammates. Compete against the other team.

D – Drills. Do them right.

E – Errors. Make fewer errors than the other team and most of the time, you’ll win.

F – First pitch strike. Be ahead in the count.

G – Get better every day. Compete. Improve.

H – Hit… then hit some more.

I – Instincts. Pay attention. Learn the game.

J – Jump to the next level. Compete and get better—opportunity follows.

K – K’s. Don’t strike out. Stop swinging and missing.

L – Little things. Handle the little things and the big things take care of themselves.

M – Mistakes. Don’t make the same mistake twice. Learn from it.

N – Numbers. Play the game and have fun—don’t obsess over stats.

O – Outs. Make the routine outs.

P – Perfect practice makes perfect. Practice like a moron, you’ll play like one.

Q – Quick first step.

R – Runs. Score them or drive them in.

S – Simple. Keep it simple.

T – Thanks. Be thankful. You’re not entitled. Thank your parents, coaches, teachers.

U – Underhand flip.

V – Versatility. Learn as many positions as possible.

W – Walks. Be ready to hit, but take the bad pitches.

X – X-Factor. Give 100% honest effort. Work hard. Be thankful.

Y – Yell. Be loud. Communicate. Help your teammates.

Z – Zzzzz’s. Don’t fall asleep. Pay attention. Know what’s going on every inning.

During those long drives between tournaments, I’d go over these ABC’s with my son. Over and over. At the time, I thought I was helping him become a better baseball player.

What I didn’t realize was that these “rules” were teaching him how to be a complete competitor, on and off the field.

Then baseball ended.

High school wrapped up. Uniforms were hung up. And suddenly, real life was standing on the mound.

Fastballs came in the form of responsibility. Curveballs showed up as setbacks. And there was no coach calling time-out anymore.

But here’s the thing…

Just because baseball ends doesn’t mean the ABC’s stop applying.

Take a second look at Billy Ripken’s ABC’s, but this time, step out of the batter’s box and into the workforce. Into school. Into adulthood. Into life.

Compete.

Get better every day.

Do the little things right.

Be versatile.

Communicate.

Be thankful.

Give honest effort.

Don’t make the same mistake twice.

That’s how you earn a promotion.

That’s how you level up in school.

That’s how you grow as a person.

I relate these ABC’s to my life every single day. And my hope in sharing this is simple: maybe you take something from it. Maybe you apply it yourself. Or maybe you pass it on to someone who needs it.

Because after all—

life and baseball really do go hand in hand.