Baseball has been part of my life since I was a baby; it’s in my DNA and part of the fabric of my whole life. I have pictures of me with a baseball in my hand before I was one years old. It probably was my destiny. The first time I remember holding a ball was when I was four years old. I was hooked. I went outside my parent’s apartment complex in the Bronx and threw the ball (a pink Spalding) against a brick wall for hours. When my mom told me we were moving from the Bronx to “upstate New York” I was devastated. Where would I throw my ball to catch it? I cried when we moved in to our ranch-style house in Carmel, NY. My dad, knowing how much I loved playing ball, would drive me to Kent Elementary to throw my ball against the brick wall so I could still play for hours. He always believed in me and did whatever he could to make me happy. There’s never been a day where he didn’t support my dreams and do whatever he had to do to be there for me.
My dreams and passion for baseball continue to grow in Carmel. I went from throwing my Spalding ball in the Elementary School parking lot to having a catch with my dad. I wanted to throw all hours of the day. I was so obsessed that he had to tell me we couldn’t go outside and play until sunrise. I would lie in bed and wait, awake already, until the sun kissed the sky around 5AM and would wake him up to come out with me. Groggy eyed from sleep and work, he always got up and shook off his exhaustion to throw to me. It’s a small gesture in the scheme of things but those are the memories I’ll always cherish with my dad, and more than that helped grow my obsession with baseball.
My parents supported my baseball dreams no matter what. They bought a soft toss machine for the house so I could hone my batting skills. I was constantly focusing on developing my skills and athleticism as my baseball career grew. My life was school and baseball. When I wasn’t learning Math and English, I was in our garage focusing on my speed, agility, strength, throwing and hitting. There is at least one garage window and one cat that was a sacrifice to my dedication; but I blame the cat on my sister even if he may have been hit while I was having a catch with her (she didn’t catch my hot ball, so clearly it was her fault).
My baseball career has enabled me to go everywhere I wanted to go. With my focus, dedication and training I went from Rec baseball and CYO to modified baseball as a young player. I played on the high school varsity team and American Legion. I traveled all over the place, my parents always finding a way to make all my games and practices. My dream was to one day be able to play Division 1 at Columbia University, and I worked really hard both academically and athletically to make it happen. Again, my parents did everything they could to support my dream and make it happen. During college, I also played for New England Collegiate Baseball during the summer.
Baseball was always a serious endeavor to me; I put everything I possible could into it. It was always who I was; It’s made me who I am. I’ve had the most amazing experiences because of it, and it’s helped me become who I wanted to be and achieve everything I wanted to become. And now, as a dad of a baseball player, I want to pay back what opportunities I was given to me by my parents and coaches who helped me along the way. The Garage is a place where I can pay it forward to my community and support all the players, teams, parents and coaches looking to make an impact on the world around them.
This place is also to honor my father. He did everything he possibly could to let me live my dream. He is always with me in everything I do because I wouldn’t be here without him. Brewster Baseball Garage is as much his at is mine, because he has always allowed, encouraged, and supported me. If I can take his legacy and not only bring it to my son, his team, and our community than I know I can do him proud.
My father passed from a brain tumor in March of 2020. Even though he’s not here, he is still here.