Man, Corey Phelan. That name, it just kind of sticks with you once you hear the story, doesn’t it? For me, it wasn’t just another headline I scrolled past on my phone. It popped up at a time when, honestly, I was probably too wrapped up in my own little world.
How It All Started For Me
I wasn’t, like, a super hardcore baseball follower, you know? I mean, I enjoy a game, but I’m not the type to know all the upcoming prospects in the minor leagues. I actually stumbled across Corey’s story in a kind of roundabout way. I think I was looking up something completely unrelated, maybe some local team news or something, and a link or a mention just caught my eye. Initially, I just saw “young athlete” and “fighting,” and I clicked, not really knowing what to expect.
And then I read about him. A pitcher, so young, with the Phillies organization, battling non-Hodgkin lymphoma. It just sort of stopped me in my tracks. You see these young guys, full of beans, chasing this massive dream, and then life throws something so incredibly heavy at them. It was a real gut punch, even for someone who didn’t know him from Adam.
My “Practice” From This
So, what was my “practice” here? It’s not like I suddenly started trying to learn how to pitch, or anything like that. Nah, my practice became something more internal. It was about perspective. A real shift in perspective.
I remember at that time, I was going through a phase where I was moaning about everything. My job was stressful, a project I was working on felt like it was going nowhere, I wasn’t making progress on some personal goals. You know, the usual stuff we all complain about. Silly things, really, when you think about it.
And then I’d read an update about Corey, or see his picture, and it was like a quiet voice saying, “Hey, what are you really complaining about?” It wasn’t about feeling guilty, not at all. It was more about… I don’t know, recalibrating what a “tough day” really meant. Seeing the dignity and the fight in someone so young, facing something so immense, it made my own daily hurdles seem almost insignificant.
My “practice” became trying to carry a little bit of that strength, that perspective, into my own day. When I’d hit a roadblock at work and feel like throwing in the towel, I’d pause. I’d think about that fight. It sounds a bit cheesy, I guess, but it genuinely helped me push through things I might have otherwise given up on. It was like, if he could face what he was facing with that kind of spirit, surely I could tackle my much, much smaller challenges.
- I started trying to be more present.
- I tried to appreciate the small wins a bit more.
- I definitely tried to complain less about the little annoyances.
A Personal Connection of Sorts
There was another reason it probably hit me a bit harder. Around that same period, my old man was having a few health scares of his own. Nothing as serious, thankfully, but it was a worrying time for our family. Lots of hospital visits, anxious waits for news, that kind of thing. And you’re in that bubble of worry, and then you hear about this young man, Corey, and his battle. It just resonated deeply.
It made me think about how we support each other. It made me want to be a bit stronger for my own family, to not add to the stress with my own minor grumbles. My “practice” extended to that too – trying to be a bit more of a rock, a bit more positive, even when things felt uncertain. I actually started making more of an effort to just check in with people, properly, you know? Ask how they really are.
So yeah, Corey Phelan. His story, for me, became this unexpected lesson in resilience and perspective. It’s not something I bring up in conversation much, but it’s definitely one of those things that subtly changed how I look at stuff. It’s a sobering reminder, for sure, but also, in a way, an inspiring one about the human spirit. And it’s funny how these influences can come into your life from unexpected places, right when you perhaps need them the most. It just sort of sticks with you.
