Beyond My Understanding
Blake Treinen and Tom Hager
In partnership with Athletes For God
As I sat in my parents' car in 2010, I was at one of the lowest points in my life.
It had been several hours since I heard the news from the Miami Marlins, but the shock had yet to wear off. When I woke up that morning, I was a prospect with the Marlins organization and had a bright future ahead of me. Even if I was only a 23rd round pick, I was still a professional baseball player. I had already signed a contract, and allowed myself to envision what a future might look like pitching for the Marlins.
By the time I rode in that car at 2 a.m. that night, that had all come crashing down.
I actually knew something bad might happen when the day started, because I was one of only two players drafted that the Marlins had kept around from the day before. While all the other players left the previous day after getting their physicals, I was still around, wondering why they had kept me so long.
There was no good way to break the news to me, but when I was called in to meet up with the team, they did their best to try.
"We've got some good news and bad news...The good news is, your MRI came back clean - there's no tears or anything. Everything is strong, clean, good," they told me. "But the bad news is our doctors think there's too much inflammation - we don't want to take a risk on you, so we're voiding our contract."
Just like that, my career with the Marlins was over.
As I was fighting back emotions, I had to walk into the locker room and pick up my gear to go home. The Marlins bought me a one-way ticket back to Kansas, and although their journey with me was finished, my own anxiety was just getting started. I had no idea if I was going to head back to college, or if I was even eligible to play, or where my baseball career was headed.
The one thing I did have was my faith. Before my parents picked me up that night, I called the team chaplain from my summer team. Little did I know it, but he was about to give me the Bible verse that changed my life.
If there was a reason I was so emotional that day with the Marlins, it was because of all the work I had put in to get there. Along with the belief that this is where God wanted me. It was all so confusing.
The dream to join the big leagues started long ago...before I ever broke through in 2014, and way before I ever was blessed with the chance to be an All-Star in 2018. That journey really began in 2007, when I made the decision to pursue baseball after high school. I didn't even start playing with the varsity team until I was a junior at Osage City High School, but by the time I graduated, I wanted to see how far baseball could take me.
The only problem was that I couldn't find a single NCAA team to take me. Not Division 1. Not Division II. Not Division III. The only team willing to take a chance on me was Baker University, but that was at the NAIA level....on the junior varsity squad.
My parents were helping me through school, and after my freshman season I just couldn't justify the money they were spending on my education there. I was on a small scholarship, and I wasn't even studying my intended major of landscape architecture, so I decided to head out to the University of Arkansas to pursue my dreams both in the classroom and on the field.
UA had a great landscape architecture program and one of the top baseball programs in the country, and it made sense for me to go there. I transferred to their campus in Fayetteville and arranged a meeting with the coaches to tryout for the team, and everything seemed like it was starting to fall in place.
Then I got a quick reality check when I actually showed up for the meeting. I was the only one who had remembered about it, or at least took it seriously, and when I told one of the assistants I was there to try out for the team, I'll never forget what he said.
"Come on man."
At first I was holding out hope, like maybe he meant it was an inconvenient time, but come on man, pick up your glove and let's head down to the field. Unfortunately it was the other kind, like I didn’t belong in that office.
"We're not doing walk-ons," the coach told me. "If we did a walk-on tryout we'd be here for three weeks, trying out everybody in the state of Arkansas, because everybody wants to be a Razorback. Sorry, I'm not going to do that."
I wasn't going to quit on my dream like that, so I tried to plead with him. I told him that I had a mutual friend with the head coach, which was true, and I thought that might just be the opening I needed.
"(He) is in Tennessee on a recruiting visit," the assistant said.
It seemed strange to me, because I could tell his door was open. I was either being lied to or the head coach left his office open during his recruiting trip.
Seconds later, that coach walked in the building and sat down in his office. I started to get a sense of what was going on, and in case I started to have any ideas of a sudden meeting now that the coach arrived, his assistant squashed that idea too.
Have a good day.
That conversation could have easily been the end of my career. At that point I was 20 years old and I had yet to throw a collegiate pitch on a varsity team, much less in the Big Leagues. And yet I still felt like God was nudging me to not give up on my dreams.
You see, God put these big dreams on my heart...not easy ones.
So with the setback in Arkansas, I headed back home toward Kansas. Not to abandon my dreams, but to keep pursuing them.
My career looked to be at a dead end, but I decided to view it as a crossroads. I returned to Kansas, and found a pitching coach willing to give me some mentoring. His name was Don Czyz, and if it wasn't for him, I don't know where I would be today.
He was willing to put me through one of his clinics for just $20, and with no college opportunity on the horizon, the price seemed just right. I was excited to restart my career, until I actually went over to a pitching mound the night before. I hadn't thrown a baseball off a mound in 6 months, and it felt like it. I didn't feel like I was throwing the baseball; it felt like the baseball was throwing me. My fastball, which needed to be in the 90s to even have a chance at the majors, felt like it was 70 miles per hour...at best.
With a fastball that slow, I would be lucky to find any suitors for me, at any level. My fastball just didn’t have enough zip on it to impress so I leaned on my curveball, and on that first day of the clinic I somehow was throwing the best curveball I had ever thrown in my life. The catcher was barely able to catch it, granted he was a high school catcher, nonetheless it gave me the confidence that maybe this baseball thing could work out after all.
My fastball started to come back to a competitive velocity. It was nowhere near an elite level - it was closer to 83 or 84 mph, but at least it was respectable. Don started to reach out to colleges on my behalf, and by the grace of God I found a taker in South Dakota State.
They had just turned Division 1, and they weren't even eligible for the NCAA Tournament yet, but my dream was still alive. I was now going to be a D1 college pitcher. To make it better, they offered a degree in landscape architecture. Things were starting to come together.
My performance on the mound was continuing to progress as well. During that year when I had to sit out due to NCAA transfer rules, I started to hit all the targets I was setting for my velocity. I remember hitting 90 mph during the transfer year, and by the time I was actually pitching (now as a redshirt junior) I was actually hitting 93 mph...I couldn't believe it!
With the improved velocity came better results on the field. I felt like there was a chance I was going to get drafted my redshirt junior season, but I told myself not to take the offer unless it was a top-20 round pick. And then when I got picked in the 23rd round, I decided to readjust my standards. It was a little later than I thought I was willing to take, but when you actually find out that an MLB team wants you in their system, it's hard to say no.
Even if you're the 707th overall pick.
So when the Marlins took a chance on me, I packed up my things and headed out to West Palm Beach to begin my career as a professional baseball player. This was actually happening.
And that's when I got the physical exam that altered the course of my life. It changed my baseball career, but more importantly it changed my faith.
Up to that point I was a strong believer. My parents raised me in a Christian household, and I understood that my parents' faith couldn't be mine. I developed my own relationship with Jesus, and I knew that He alone was going to be my path toward salvation.
The thing was, even though I thought my faith was strong, it had never been tested like it was on that particular day. Before that point, when I was going through all that adversity, my baseball career had never developed to the point where I could take my MLB dreams seriously. It wasn't until I got drafted and signed that contract that it felt tangible. And now that I had finally achieved that dream, in one instant it was taken away from me.
When I heard the news that my contract was being voided by the Marlins, I instinctively leaned on my faith. I decided to call my chaplain from my summer baseball team. I had only known him for two weeks during the summer ball season (after my junior year at SDSU but before I reported to the Marlins) but it seemed like of all the people I could turn to in a time of crisis, speaking with a chaplain was a pretty good idea.
After I explained everything that had just happened, the chaplain gave me a Bible verse from Proverbs 3: 5-6. Just stewer on it, he told me, and I'll be praying for you.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding," the verse says. "In all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight."
The verse is beautiful and profound, but I was so deep in my own negativity that I couldn't even take it in. At that point, it didn't seem like that verse was going to fix the thoughts swirling in my head.
Alright cool, so trust in God and everything will be hunky dory...Well that doesn't really help me in this situation. I feel lost.
The significance of the verse seemed lost on me, but later that night God had a pretty emphatic way of making sure that I got the message.
My performance on the mound was continuing to progress as well. During that year when I had to sit out due to NCAA transfer rules, I started to hit all the targets I was setting for my velocity. I remember hitting 90 mph during the transfer year, and by the time I was actually pitching (now as a redshirt junior) I was actually hitting 93 mph...I couldn't believe it!
With the improved velocity came better results on the field. I felt like there was a chance I was going to get drafted my redshirt junior season, but I told myself not to take the offer unless it was a top-20 round pick. And then when I got picked in the 23rd round, I decided to readjust my standards. It was a little later than I thought I was willing to take, but when you actually find out that an MLB team wants you in their system, it's hard to say no.
Even if you're the 707th overall pick.
So when the Marlins took a chance on me, I packed up my things and headed out to West Palm Beach to begin my career as a professional baseball player. This was actually happening.
And that's when I got the physical exam that altered the course of my life. It changed my baseball career, but more importantly it changed my faith.
Up to that point I was a strong believer. My parents raised me in a Christian household, and I understood that my parents' faith couldn't be mine. I developed my own relationship with Jesus, and I knew that He alone was going to be my path toward salvation.
The thing was, even though I thought my faith was strong, it had never been tested like it was on that particular day. Before that point, when I was going through all that adversity, my baseball career had never developed to the point where I could take my MLB dreams seriously. It wasn't until I got drafted and signed that contract that it felt tangible. And now that I had finally achieved that dream, in one instant it was taken away from me.
When I heard the news that my contract was being voided by the Marlins, I instinctively leaned on my faith. I decided to call my chaplain from my summer baseball team. I had only known him for two weeks during the summer ball season (after my junior year at SDSU but before I reported to the Marlins) but it seemed like of all the people I could turn to in a time of crisis, speaking with a chaplain was a pretty good idea.
After I explained everything that had just happened, the chaplain gave me a Bible verse from Proverbs 3: 5-6. Just stewer on it, he told me, and I'll be praying for you.
"Trust in the Lord with all your heart and lean not on your own understanding," the verse says. "In all your ways submit to Him, and He will make your paths straight."
The verse is beautiful and profound, but I was so deep in my own negativity that I couldn't even take it in. At that point, it didn't seem like that verse was going to fix the thoughts swirling in my head.
Alright cool, so trust in God and everything will be hunky dory...Well that doesn't really help me in this situation. I feel lost.
The significance of the verse seemed lost on me, but later that night God had a pretty emphatic way of making sure that I got the message.
As I sat there in the car that night explaining everything to my parents, I also told them about the Bible verse the chaplain gave me.
No sooner had I mentioned that verse from Proverbs than God gave me a sign that He was listening. This was at 2 in the morning in rural Kansas, and for an hour we hadn't seen another car on the road. Not a single one. Until I mentioned that verse.
Moments later, a red cavalier passed us on the road, with a customized license plate. And as if God was speaking directly into my heart, the license plate said "PROV 356"
We have all wondered about God's existence at one point or another in our lives, but sometimes God makes it really clear for us. And for me, this was that moment.
As it turned out, that verse was completely right. I decided to lean on God, and not my own understanding, and everything actually seemed to work out for the best. I found out because I had been a professional player for less than 48 hours and I hadn't hired an agent, I was still eligible for my senior season at SDSU. And with a stronger belief in God's plan, I made the most of that season. I got to be on scholarship for the first time in my life, and I had the best season of my career. My fastball had now improved from 93 to 97 mph, and by the time that following year's draft rolled around, I was no longer a 23rd round pick.
I was now a 7th round pick with the Oakland A's, and I received a signing bonus that provided me some financial security for the first time in years.
And when it seemed like things couldn't get any better, they did. As I was making my journey through the minor leagues, I met someone. But this wasn't just "someone"... this was the most amazing person I've ever met in my life. I met Kati when I was in Omaha in the offseason before being traded to the Washington Nationals organization. My teammate from the previous season created an online profile for me without my consent. But it was a blessing in disguise. As I went to delete my account I stumbled across my future wife on the website ChristianMingle.com. To this day what a crazy gift a simple prank in my life had turned out to be! God brought us together in the most unlikely of circumstances.
Kati was a former athlete too, so she understood what I was going through. We clicked right away, and within a few months, as both my career and relationship were progressing, I kind of hit the panic button. I told her I didn't deserve her, because I knew the amount of work and time I was going to have to put in just to become a major league pitcher. She deserved someone who could devote more time to her, and even though I was in love with her, I thought she should be with somebody else.
But she didn't give up on me.
When I saw the unconditional love she had for me, which is similar to the unconditional love God has for all of us, I had a change of heart. Instead of thinking I couldn't become a major leaguer with her in the picture, I realized my big league dreams would never become true without her.
I didn't get back together with her so I could reach the big leagues - I got back together with her because I loved her. I still do. I proposed on Christmas Day of 2013, and today I get to call her my wife.
I still remember the proposal, because I had become part of a family tradition. Two years earlier, at her family's cabin in Idaho, her brother-in-law proposed to her sister. Then in 2013, with the whole family at the cabin, I got down on one knee. Two years after that, her brother proposed to his girlfriend there. So now the joke is that her younger brother needs to propose there too. So if any of you readers are looking for beautiful mountain views and a great man, there might be someone I'd like you to meet.
Being engaged to Kati was one of the best things that ever happened to me. Imagine spending every day with your best friend, and that's what being with Kati is like.
She also provided a huge amount of support in my career, because once I got to the big leagues, my dreams were on the verge of slipping away once again.
Joining the Nationals organization was really special. I had an amazing catcher in Sandy Leon who rose through the system with me, and once I got to the big leagues, I had some incredible teammates like Adam LaRoche, Craig Stammen, and Ian Desmond. All four of those guys helped me understand the level of maturity and the mindset it takes to be successful at the big league level, but they were also just genuinely good people. One of my goals is to be an ambassador for Christ and to be as good of a teammate as they were with me.
Thanks to their help, I was able to not only break into the big leagues in 2014, I was able to find immediate success. My 2.49 ERA in 2014 allowed me to stick around for the 2015 season. Unfortunately, that's when my adversity returned. Even though my ERA was still respectable that year at 3.86, I was struggling with my command, and as a result I was optioned back down to Triple-A.
That can be hard on anyone, but now that I was trying to support both Kati and I, it felt like it was snowballing. Not only was I failing to stay in the big leagues, but now my happiness was being dictated by how I did on each particular outing. If I had a bad game, I would come home feeling down on myself, and when Kati's encouragement wasn't able to lift me up, that only made her feel like she was failing too. Which of course only made me feel worse. It was a terrible snowball effect.
In this moment Kati was monumental with her support for me. So was God. We started to remember that we needed to enjoy this time in our lives because God has blessed us with so many things. A fraction of one percent of kids who play baseball growing up ever get to do what I do for a living, and we just needed to enjoy everything God has given us.
I was careful not to confuse my gratitude with complacency, and as I grew in my faith I continued to push harder to get back to the big leagues. When I started the 2016 season with the Nationals, I was able to stay there the whole year and put up solid numbers again (2.28 ERA). That performance earned me the closing role to start out the 2017 year, but the yo-yo of my career was not done yet. I was consistently behind batters in one count after another, and before April was even over I had already lost the closing job.
The ups and downs of playing baseball can be exhausting, but it was time to get back to my special verse.
Lean not on your understanding. He will make your paths straight.
I was kept on the big league roster, and tried to make the most out of my role as the setup man. Plus, I understood there was a bigger story going on than my own personal trials. We were in the middle of a playoff chase, and for a brief moment, it looked like I was on a World Series contending team.
I still remember hanging out with one of my friends back in July of that year when they told me the rumors. The Nationals were going after A's closer Sean Doolittle, and the deal was all but done. One of the best pitchers in the game was joining our club.
And that's when it hit me - I'm getting traded.
If Sean was joining the Nationals, that roster spot had to come from somewhere, and it probably wasn't going to come from the batting lineup. Sure enough, I got a tap on my shoulder from Mike Maddux. The Nationals were trading me to Oakland.
What's funny is that I felt a strange peace about the situation. Maybe it was from all the work I had been doing on handling adversity to that point. But whether it was my special verse or the Holy Spirit working within me, I felt like everything was going to be okay. I could almost hear God saying, "I got you, you don't have to worry."
I think it might have something to do with a Bible verse from Luke 16:10, which says "Whoever can be trusted with very little can also be trusted with much." I had shown my faith through my previous struggles, and now God was trusting me to handle this big change with grace.
My pastor's wife once told me that when you feel heavy and under attack, to start rejoicing because there's a big breakthrough coming. I always held onto hope that could be true, but even for a big dreamer like me, I'm not sure I could have envisioned what would transpire when I got to Oakland.
I think one of the coolest things about the Bible is that God picks some of the unlikeliest characters to fulfill His purposes and write incredible stories. It's almost like the more unlikely the person is, the more it reflects how awesome God's power can be. It also shows that no one is ever too astray to feel His grace.
When I began last season for Oakland, most people didn't know who I was. I was a failed closer in Washington D.C. and a mop-up pitcher for the Nationals. I used to write "Proverbs 3:5-6" next to my name on every autograph, but only the biggest Nationals fans even knew who I was. From the outside perspective, there seemed to be little reason to believe 2018 was going to be any different. But that's not the way God sees things.
We began the year as the trendy pick...to finish in last place. The Astros were the defending World Series champions, while the Mariners had a loaded lineup. The Angels added Shoehei Ohtani, while the Rangers still had pop in their bats. Meanwhile, the A's had finished last in the division in three straight years, and people thought 2018 would be more of the same.
"There are signs of a potential turnaround," the Associated Press wrote about us, "but rebuilding will still take some time."
For the first few weeks of the season, the doubters seemed right. We started the season 5-10, but on one particular day, things began to change for our team. It also happened to be the day things changed for me.
We entered the May 2 game against the Mariners with a 14-15 record, seeking to get back to .500. Just from a mental standpoint alone, a win in this game would have been big. We trailed 2-0 in the game heading into the 8th inning, but Jed Lowrie hit a huge home run to tie things up.
With the game now hanging in the balance in the bottom of the 8th, manager Bob Melvin called my name. I remember this day in particular because up to that point, I had been trying to find consistency and confidence with my sinker. God has given me the ability to throw a 97 mph pitch with sink, but for whatever reason I couldn't throw it with much effectiveness to the spots in the zone that I needed to throw it to. The pitch was my best weapon but I just hadn’t quite found it yet.
Until that day.
I still remember this game, because I had the bases loaded and one out. Stepping to the plate was none other than Nelson Cruz, one of the most established hitters in the game and a tough out. I got ahead in the count to 1-2 against Cruz, and then threw a 4 seamer to get him out. Now all we needed was to get one more out and we would escape the jam.
There was just one little problem...I still had to face Mitch Haniger, who was on fire last season. I decided to trust the sinker. With my first pitch I threw the sinker to get a quick strike, and decided to go right back to it. Now the count was 0-2.
You can't be "finding" your sinker right now I told myself. Just see your spot and throw.
This time I didn't mess around with waste pitches out of the zone - I went right at it again. And just like that I saw my best sinker of the year. I was fortunate to get Haniger to swing and miss again to keep the game tied at 2-2. In the top of the ninth inning, Mark Canha hit a deep shot to left field that cleared the fence to give us a 3-2 lead, and as the game went to the bottom of the ninth, Bob Melvin sent me right back out again.
I remember putting guys on first and second, but with two outs I just needed one more good pitch to end the game. Dee Gordon hit a little chopper towards our second baseman, and I thought that might be it, only to watch as Dee raced down the line and beat out the throw.
This was the situation every pitcher dreams of - or fears. One-run lead. Bases loaded. Two outs. Bottom of the 9th. Now with nowhere to put the runner.
But God had made me fearless at this point. With the 1-1 count, I threw another 97 mph pitch to enduce a groundball. Matt Chapman, our third baseman, grabbed it off one hop and fired over to first base for the win. We had trailed almost the entire game, but that win marked a turning point in our season.
We went 17-10 in June, 17-8 in July, 18-9 in August, and by the end of September we had won 97 games. And with a newfound confidence in my sinker, and great team baseball, we closed out the last 15 appearances - over the course of 17.1 innings - scoreless. I say this not to brag, but only to show God's glory...but the same kid who was reaching 83 mph in 2008 and then holding back tears in the Marlins complex in 2010 had just finished the year of my career. Thus far. With a 0.78 ERA.
I had the kind of year every closer dreams of, but God had one more lesson to teach me last season. I would need to persevere one more time.
As great as the regular season was, most people didn't get to see that version of me.
I play on the West Coast, most people on the East Coast weren't staying up until 1:30 a.m. to watch the Oakland A’s.
That was all supposed to change when our team traveled to New York for the Wild Card game. And the narrative going in was that we were going to have one reliever start the game and play it by ear which reliever would pitch next.
The bright lights of New York and the postseason were shining bright on our team, and when it counted the most, I had the worst game of the entire season. Through 162 regular season games I felt like I did my job to help my club win ball games. They scratch away and get runs and our bullpen arms close the door late. But that night I came up short of my best effort.
As we entered the bottom of the 6th inning, our team only trailed 2-0. It was still a winnable game, but when the Yankees grabbed a 3-0 lead and put runners on second and third, Bob Melvin called upon me to help minimize the inning.
This game was a big game, but I had done this before. Just trust the sinker. Expand your slider. You've got this. Unfortunately for whatever reason, my slider just didn't work. After a long at bat, Luke Voit hit a shot off the wall to clear the bases and suddenly make the game 5-0. I then gave up a sac fly to make it 6-0, and before my night was over I gave up a home run to Giancarlo Stanton as we lost 7-2.
It was the most disappointed I had been over a loss in a long time. The best part about baseball is you usually only have to wait another day to get back on the mound and wash a loss out of your system. For me, it's been nearly four months since my last pitch, and I have yet to thrown in a game since that night.
It took me about three weeks to truly come to terms with it, but Clemson quarterback Trevor Lawrence said it best.
"Football is important to me but it's not my life,” Lawrence said at a press conference. "...That comes from knowing who I am outside of that - I know no matter how big the situation is, it's not going to define me....putting my identity in what Christ says; who He thinks I am."
If my career has taught me anything so far, it's that I should stop putting limitations on God's power. I used to pray for attainable goals rather than big ones, but I'm not doing that anymore. Even though most people would look at my ERA last season and consider it a fluke, I know that the creator of the universe is capable of way more things than a 0.78 ERA. So I don't look at last season at the peak of my career.
I just always think to dream big, because dreams come true. If you're one of those kids with my "Proverbs 3: 5-6" autograph, or if you've ever seen me smiling with my wife and kids, you'd know that I'm proof.