Letter to My Younger Self

To a 13-year-old Teige,

Man, I miss you, such a simple thinker and the most unproblematic version of yourself during your early teens. You weren’t the smartest kid though. You're pretty oblivious to a lot of things that are common sense to most, but who cares, not you.

But just a reminder, make sure you rent wrist guards at the roller rink for the 6th grade graduation party. Sakai Intermediate School is not the best at funding large field trips, and they won’t give you the option to buy wrist guards and surprisingly a helmet. So, just be smart and ask mom for extra cash for specifically wrist guards so you don’t miss summer baseball with a greenstick fracture, just do it, thanks.

Also, stop telling your friends you’re going to ask out a girl and never go through with it, they all know your scheme where you talk a lot of game but never end up doing anything. Then again, you just sound like a regular 6th grader. Just do you man.

Regardless, I do have some things to share with you that your stubborn butt may not like to hear, or maybe you will. It’s been a while since I’ve thought like you.

I know you wish to play football, but your parents won’t let you yet, don’t be mad, they just don’t want their boy getting hurt. Instead keep focusing on baseball, that’s your sport and it’ll be your sport for years to come. I know you’re good for your age, I know you have a good bat and are one of the fastest kids on your team, but you have to let go of the failure in the game of baseball. Getting all upset because you struck out once and ending the game 3-4 with a home run and two doubles shows how competitive you are, but you need to eventually learn how to channel that frustration into a well-taught lesson of discipline.

Never change Teige, we all see the competitive drive in you, to be perfect, to never fail. But you will, everyday you fail and that’s not a bad thing. Listen to dad when he says, “regret is worse than failure, so you might as well fail.” He’s trying to tell you to control what’s in front of you because the past is the past and you can’t change that.

Unfortunately, Teige, we did not get drafted at 15-years-old, so quit playing like you are trying to be a big leaguer when you’ve barely made it out of Little League. Just go out there and play ball, forget the looks, and focus on your positive attitude towards a game you love so much. I wish I had someone like myself to tell you this, because I get how hard it is to listen to mom and dad. Especially when it comes to mom.

Mom wants to be there for you, she likes hearing what’s going on, she’s a problem solver or strives to be one most of the time. Tell her what’s going on, tell her your experiences so she’s included on her boy’s life. She’s not looking to get you in trouble, she just doesn’t want to miss anything important in your life.

Though, Teige, there are things I want you ready for, but I won’t tell you. They shaped the current person that’s writing this letter to you. That person is comfortab… mostly comfortable with themselves, we’re getting there though. Heavy amounts of emotion will be weighed upon you in the next four years, but always look on the bright side.

Allow yourself to be emotional, holding it in will bring you to depths that you never wanted to discover and quit saying, “mom I’m fine.” Stop brushing off one of your only support systems you have Teige, quit trying to be tough.

But don’t worry, you’ll power through it. I think it’s a good thing you’ll experience these occurrences, you’ll be amazed on how you turn out.

I’ll quit my little tangent.

Little man, I miss being you, enjoy it while it lasts or you’ll be writing a letter like this in a sports journalism class in your junior of high school at a school you’ve never heard of, but that you’ll love. But that’s for later, enjoy what you have and never stop being you.

I’ll see ya,

Teige Halligan