"Then, as it was,

then again it will be

And though the course may change sometimes

Rivers always reach the sea."

         - Led Zeppelin (Ten Years Gone)

This Sunday, I'm going to tell you a little about my story. Ten years to this very day, August 23rd, my love of pitching, my seemingly innate disposition to follow a different path, and my love of the Tragically Hip all intertwined in an inexplicable way.

It cemented my belief that the universe will show you signs that you are right where you are supposed to be when you are overcome with doubt. It will also help you know when you are not on the right path. The key, you see, is being open to seeing the signs.

If you know me, you know how much I love the Tragically Hip. They're my favourite band. So, yesterday, when I sat down to watch the ten-year anniversary of their final show, it dawned on me it was also the ten year anniversary of something else.

Ten years ago, I decided to do something crazy. At twenty-six years old, with one year of eligibility left, and one year left to finish my degree, I moved to Warrensburg, to (finally) play my senior season for the University of Central Missouri.

It was a huge risk. I had a life I loved in St. Albert with a solid career starting to bloom both running a baseball academy and growing a business as a personal trainer. I had great friendships and my family was all close.

Not only that, the bigger risk was my still pretty much injured shoulder. I had labrum surgery five and a half years prior and I wasn't able to return to the mound. Suddenly, in the winter  of 2016 I could throw hard again.

Fast forward five months and, yes I could throw 90 mph, but I had yet to throw two days in a row because my arm would be SO sore still from the day prior.

Regardless, I was going for it. My mantra was one that I picked up in Paulo Coelho's 'The Alchemist': You can always go back to being a shepherd.

I was going all in on trying to play professional baseball and win a national championship. Burn the ships. All of that.

I had to be down in Missouri for August 10th for the start of team practice and classes and so I quite literally packed all my stuff into my Honda HRV and drove the twenty-six hours straight to Missouri. I was hoping for the best: hoping my own resolve, and will and determination, and grace too - would get my shoulder back to 100% in time for the spring season.

I had coached the U18AAA Edmonton Cardinals that past season, and we won provincials, so after just a few days of being a collegiate athlete again, I left to go to Quebec for the National Championship Tournament for a week.

At the conclusion of Nationals in Quebec, I remember landing in Kansas City, on August 23rd, in the early afternoon and starting the hour plus drive to Warrensburg. Suddenly, a truly awful feeling started in the pit of my stomach before completely washing over me. "What have I done?"  

And then? Literally, a minute later, on a random US radio station, the song Bobcaygeon by the Hip came on. This couldn't - no it wasn't, a coincidence. The Hip never broke into the USA. They didn't get played on FM radio down there. They were my favourite band and just the night before I wept like most of Canada watching Gord's final show due to his battle with terminal brain cancer.

I don't really know how to explain it, but immediately the feeling went away and was replaced with: "this is exactly where I'm supposed to be."

Ten years later, when I feel lost in the fog, or at times (okay often times!) overwhelmed with the inevitable curveballs life throws at me - I remember when Bobcaygeon came on the radio and to trust my gut instinct to know what is right, and to follow my intuition wherever it may lead me.