01 FROM THE PLAYBOOK
📚The Countdown
Part Two of the opening ceremony speech.
Last week, we began a four-part series from a speech delivered to 2,200 young athletes at the National All-State Championships.
Starting the stats with 2.4 million kids who play youth baseball in America and followed the numbers all the way down to the athletes sitting in that stadium.
Chad ended Part One by telling them the most important number wasn't about how they got there. It was about how much of the journey was still in front of them.
This week, we find out what he meant.
← Missed Part One? Catch up ↗
PART TWO · THE COUNTDOWN
Opening Ceremony Speech · By Chad Scott
JUMBOTRON SLIDE
HOW MANY GAMES HAVE
YOU ALREADY PLAYED?
Players, let me ask you something. How many baseball games do you think you've already played in your life?
Most of you started around five or six years old. Rec ball, then travel ball. Some of you played sixty or seventy games just last summer.
Now think about how quickly those games add up.
JUMBOTRON SLIDE
≈ 600
GAMES
Run the math and most of you are somewhere around six hundred games.
Six hundred times you've buttoned up a jersey. Six hundred national anthems.
And here's what six hundred games does to a young player:
It makes baseball feel infinite.
It feels like there will always be another game.
Another season.
Another summer.
The Countdown
There will not always be another game.
It doesn't feel like it tonight.
But you can count what's left. And the numbers get smaller quickly.
JUMBOTRON SLIDE
8 OUT OF 100
Players on a high school roster will go on to play college baseball. Any level. Any division.
JUMBOTRON SLIDE
1 IN 1,100
High school players will ever wear a Major League uniform.
Those numbers aren't a reason to dream smaller. They're a reason to understand just how big the dream is.
You're some of the best young players in America, and somebody sitting in this stadium tonight might be that one in 1,100. So chase it with everything you've got.
But these numbers also tell us something we don't talk about enough: for most of the players in these seats, this chapter of baseball will end around eighteen.
Not because you failed. Because that's how this game works for almost everyone who has ever loved it.
SO LET'S COUNT.
JUMBOTRON SLIDE
≈ 300
Games between now and the end of high school. Give or take.
Three hundred sounds like a lot.
Until you realize it's a number you can actually count.
And somewhere inside that number is one game in particular.
★ THE LAST GAME ★
1
Somewhere out in your future (maybe your senior year, maybe further if you earn it) there will be a last game for this chapter of your life.
A last time you button up that jersey. A last time you take the field with those teammates. A last out. A last throw across the diamond.
And here's the thing nobody ever tells you: almost nobody knows it's their last game while they're playing it.
You'll think there's another one coming.
Don't take my word for it. Tonight, ask any grown man in this stadium. Ask your dad, your coach, the guy running the grill:
"When was your last game? And did you know it was your last game while you were playing it?"
Beyond the Speech
You don't have to be sitting in the stands to feel the weight of this part of Chad's speech. If you're raising kids, you know the feeling.
Suddenly there's this pressure to treasure every rain delay, cherish every 6:00 a.m. alarm, and soak up every tournament weekend because MY BABY IS GROWING UP. 😭
And now you've just realized that somewhere in all those games ahead is the last one you'll ever watch them play.
But I don't think the takeaway for parents is:
"There aren't many left! Appreciate every second!!!"
I think the heart of Chad's message is much simpler:
You don't have to make every game special. You just have to notice that you're in it.
Right now, we are all living in the middle of it.
The cleats by the door.
The dirt in the car.
The practices you don't particularly feel like driving to.
The same teammates you've seen 50 weekends in a row.
And because it's so repetitive, it feels permanent.
When you've already done something hundreds of times, why wouldn't you assume there will be hundreds more?
But put a number on it, and suddenly it doesn't feel quite so endless.
🏆 THE COUNTDOWN TAKEAWAY · FOR THE PLAYER
Be where your cleats are. In this moment. In this game. In this season.
Chase your dreams, but don't let the destination steal the journey. You don't know which games you'll remember forever or which will be the last you get to play.
So play hard, stay present, and make the one you're in count.
🏆 THE COUNTDOWN TAKEAWAY · FOR THE PARENT
Don't spend this chapter of life so focused on where all of this is leading that you miss where you already are.
You don't have to savor every second. You don't have to make every game a core memory.
This is part of their childhood, but it's part of your parenthood too. Just don't miss it while you're planning for what comes next.
And About That "Last Game"…
This week, I was sent a photo that felt especially fitting after everything we just talked about.
I couldn't not share it.
Seventeen teams full of players still showing up. Still competing. Still joking with their teammates in the dugout.
85 and STILL turning double plays?!
If that isn't inspiring, I don't know what is.
Seeing these guys putting on their jerseys decades after most players have played what they thought would be their "last game" felt like a pretty fitting reminder to end on.
The countdown isn't really about an ending. It's about recognizing that this version of it won't last forever.
The teammates may change.
The uniform may change.
Your place in the game may change entirely.
But don't mistake the end of one chapter for the end of the story.
These guys are living proof of that.
And the love of the game? There's no countdown for that.
And who knows… maybe your last game is a whole lot farther away than you think.
NEXT WEEK · PART THREE