It all started two weeks ago. I set my alarm for 6:45 for the impending tarp duty the next morning. Little did I know the horror that awaited.

I woke up sick at 4 in the morning and spent the next eight hours hugged up to the toilet. Some guys on the team had contracted a virus that had seemingly spread over the last few weeks, so I guess it was my turn.  

If it was in my body, it was coming out; so with no end in sight, I decided it was time to go to the hospital. My teammate, KP (who also doubles as editor-in-chief for the journal) thankfully was available to take me to the hospital.

With the sounds of my nausea echoing through the emergency room hallways I was hastily moved to a back room. I spent the rest of that Thursday receiving IVs and getting shot up with other medicines.   

I would like to tell you that I was able to play in the upcoming series with Furman, but there was no gutting this one out. Unfortunately, the only thing I was able to do was to force down some saltine crackers the next few days. You never fully appreciate the value of a saltine until you need them the most.

The Phoenix were cruising right along without me, winning 15-4 and 8-3, but just like many times this season, we were unable to complete the sweep, dropping the final game of the Saturday doubleheader.

I’ve tried to reason what might be worse, spending the day in the hospital wishing for a good meal and an easy stomach or watching a conference series slip away with very few left on the slate for your career. I can’t quite decide, but they both share in their misery.

I was able to get back on the field Tuesday against UNC Wilmington, but the sickening feeling remained. We were cruising along with a four-run lead in the eighth, when the wheels fell off. After I misplayed a bunt, Wilmington completed the comeback and went on to win 8-7.

It was not the way we wanted to go into the biggest weekend of the year against Western Carolina. The Western trip is the worst trip of the year simply because there is nothing there. I remember two years ago when we tried to find a place to eat and everything was closed. I think they roll up the sidewalks when the sun goes down in the mountains.

The way the next three games turned out would make anybody sick to their stomach. We lost Friday after Western scored to break a tie game in the eighth; Saturday we blew a lead in the ninth, and Sunday we lost in extra innings. 

There’s something about losing one-run games in baseball. You seem to go over every at-bat, every pitch call and every situation to somehow justify, or in this case, pin the defeat on one scenario.

But, what makes baseball such a unique game is that every pitch is an opportunity, so in every losing effort there is that opportunity where you could have done more. That’s what has been especially tough to swallow, being so close in so many games with very little to show but a bunch of second guesses.

Fortunately for us the final three conference series are at home. It is always nice to play at home; hopefully, we can use the home field advantage to get on a roll going into the conference tournament.

But first we head to Clemson to take on the Tigers tomorrow. It is always exciting to head down to Clemson and play a great team in front of a large crowd.

One of my favorite quotes is, “Fire is the test of gold; adversity, strong men.” The season has not gone how we wanted, but it is not over. The next month will unmask what guys are made of.

Drew Davis

(photo courtesy of Elon Media Relations Office)