Guest Blog Post From Connor Burns: Advice to My 18 Year Old Self

Taylor Burns

Aug 4, 2025 • 3 min read

Happy Long Weekend! Today, I have a guest blog post for you - from my younger brother, Connor.

He pens a letter to his eighteen year old self, right before he was about to start his college baseball career. Enjoy!

In Atlanta, GA, in 2015 the last game I coached my brother. He'd go on to have a phenomenal collegiate career at Garden City CC and then Emporia State University. He is now the Co-Head Coach of our High School Baseball Academy.

This month marks 10 years since my first year of college. It seems insane that it has been that long. My older brother, Taylor, did always tell me that my college career would go by fast, and it did, but these last 6 years have transpired even more quickly

I thought I would write a letter to my younger self, fresh off a gap year with the old Prospects Academy and summer season with the Edmonton Prospects.

Pitching for the Edmonton Prospects in the summer of 2015

Dear Connor,

You're about to start your college baseball journey. People always say these will be the best four years of your life—it sounds cliché, but they’re not wrong. These years will challenge you in ways you can't yet imagine, but they will also shape you in ways you’ll never forget.

Right now, you think you're ready. The truth is, you're not.

You're about to meet the toughest coach you'll ever have. He’s going to demand more from you than you thought possible—accountability, discipline, mental toughness. At times, he'll push you to your breaking point. He’ll get under your skin. But one day, you’ll look back and realize how much you owe him—not for making things easy, but for making you better.

Day one will hit you hard. Your roommate will get kicked off the team ten minutes into the first practice. That moment? That’s when it sinks in. You’re not in high school anymore. This is real.

You’re going to run more in the next month than you ever have in your life. You'll feel isolated, physically worn down, and mentally exhausted. Practices will fill you with anxiety. Your body will ache. The 5:30 a.m. Tuesdays on the football field, the brutal lifts, the non-stop expectations—it’ll feel like hell. But it will also build something unshakable.

You’ll get through it. And you’ll be better for it.

The bond you form with your teammates will be worth every rep, every sprint, every early morning. And when spring finally comes, those next three and a half months will be some of the best of your life.

So embrace every moment—even the ones that suck. Because sitting here now, ten years later, I’d go back and do it all over again. And I wouldn’t change a damn thing.