Career Minor Leaguer Still in Big Leagues

My first season covering baseball was 2013. I had just finished my junior year of college, long abandoned my plans of becoming a comedy writer after joining the school newspaper, and realized that my plan of “what if I became a tech writer so I could stay in the Bay Area after college” was a horrendous idea.

I was told I was a breath of fresh air in Cal League press boxes when I was 21. I wasn’t really there to do prospect evaluation — something I did later and hated so I quit and went back to writing about what I love writing about — and I cared about what I was reporting on. In my heart, I still carry the Cal League and the Pacific Coast League and wear it on my sleeve.

There never were any goals of leaving the Cal League, but then it left me — the restructuring and losing Modesto was a big hit to how I approached covering the game. There were a lot of changes that I knew I needed to keep tabs on, and still do. But I realized that there were so many more stories I was drawn to, minor league and big league.

I’m not 21 anymore, either. The longer I’ve been around the sport has shown me that my reporting has to evolve. When I started in 2013, the idea of unionizing the minor leaguers still was a pipe dream, and something that players didn’t feel comfortable openly talking about on the record. I got to know a lot of these guys, though, and still remain in contact with them after all these years to get their insight.

The time after my first season and maybe the 2025 season was a period of my life where I had the worst negative thoughts in my head. I had gotten a C-PTSD diagnosis midway through the 2014 season because of the rape and abuse I experienced before the season began. Running away to the California League was what I needed at the time and immersing myself in covering the Lancaster JetHawks’ championship run probably kept me alive, even if I didn’t think about it then.

My 13th season was probably the first time since my first season where I didn’t have the thought of leaving sports journalism because the thought got put into my head by someone I cared about when I was 21¹. I’m about to enter my 14th season as a baseball journalist — and the person who put the thought of leaving the industry in my head is now someone who’s shown me support for my success in spite of telling me to leave. It’s a wild concept to wrap my head around.

I’ve been told I’m a blessing to the industry because of the stories I write, that I have a spine to ask hard questions and that my hard news background is necessary in baseball, and that I have the range to ask serious questions and also silly ones.

I’m still the Minor League Baseball person, a label I hold dearly even as I get adjusted to the national side. I’m still going to Cal League and Pacific Coast League games this season; I’ll never let that go. It will always be the 120 places I call home.

Even more importantly, I’m not running away anymore. I’m running towards a place² and knowing what my purpose is as a baseball writer. After years of having my head clouded from voices who hurt me, I’m somewhere I can manage it and regaining my sense of who I am even if I have to keep saying it so it becomes normal in my brain. I know healing is never linear and probably resembles the 2017 NL Wild Card Game WPA more than anything but at least it’s happening and I just hope I’m not once again witnessing an Archie Bradley triple in front of my eyes³.

But I’m still here. I’m on the national side and I’ve got a lot of stories to tell. Thanks for sticking with me if you’ve been here all this time. Play ball.