I used to pray these “lasts” would hurry up. There was a time I was so tired, so beat down, so ready to be done with the grind and the pain, that I just wanted to fast forward to the end. I thought being finished would feel like relief. I thought I was ready to move on. But now that the “lasts” are really here… I don’t want them to come fast at all. I want time to slow down. I want to soak in every single part of this year. The good stuff, the hard days, the little moments I’ll never get back. The laughs in the dugout, the feeling of stepping onto the field, the quiet times in the grass where I remind myself, “you still get to do this.” It almost feels like borrowed time, and I don’t take it lightly. I’m grateful. I’m emotional. I’m fired up. And I’m soaking up every second God has given me here. One last fall ball. One last season. One last chance to love this game with everything I’ve got. Now, I’m not rushing toward the finish line. I’m holding on a little tighter and enjoying t...