This wasn’t my first time on Cape Cod. Since I was a kid, I’d spent time in Brewster with my family every summer. Growing up, I’d frequent Whitecaps games, but I was too young to understand the appeal of the Cape Cod Baseball League.
Baseball has been a defining part of my life for as long as I can remember. As a diehard Red Sox fan from Massachusetts, my father introduced me to the sport as soon as I was born. I only played baseball through middle school, but what I enjoyed most was watching — paying attention to every little detail.
Trips to Fenway with my dad became highlights. In 2013, I was eight years old when he took me to Game 6 of the World Series. A rag-tag group of bearded brothers, led by larger-than-life hero David Ortiz, did the impossible. They had emotionally healed a city reeling from the tragedy of the Boston Marathon bombing just that spring. I’ll always remember Koji Uehara coming in to finish that game. “Boston Strong” was etched into the center-field grass. When he struck out Matt Carpenter for that final out with his devastating splitter, the top blew off a stadium with no roof. As long as I live, I won’t hear anything else that loud. Nobody left the stands as the Sox hoisted the trophy. After all, it hadn’t happened at Fenway Park in 95 years.
That’s what grabs the attention of baseball fans across the country — the atmosphere and the stories of the players. The crack of the bat. The sound of cleats on gravel. The pop of the catcher’s glove on a well-received fastball. The roar of the crowd. Dust rising from the field on a hot summer night. Beyond that, it’s somehow easy to forget that the people wearing jerseys on the field are just like us. Everyone has a story. The jersey acts as a magnet, but also as a shield. Everyone wants to know what’s on the players’ minds — what motivates them and drives them to keep practicing to get better each day. Just as easily, a player can be known as the sum of their on-field miscues.
The human element of baseball is what makes it so captivating. As everyone knows, it’s a game defined by failure. If a hitter succeeds just three out of ten times at the plate, they’re on a Hall of Fame track. The lessons of life and the lessons of baseball run parallel. Consistency is key. You can never get too high or too low. The best players show up every day as the same person. They are remembered not for how they carry themselves, not just after a win, but after a tough loss. Work hard, operate with grace and kindness, and that’s how your legacy will be defined.
When I’m faced with a tough situation in real life, I have to make a baseball-related analogy. It’s what I understand best. Tough test tomorrow morning that I didn’t study for? Bottom of the ninth, tie-game, two outs, bases loaded, full count. Better find your best pitch. Come up with a way to escape the jam. In life, you don’t always have your best stuff each day, but the last thing anybody wants to hear is excuses. Can’t spot the breaking ball? Try the changeup. Fastball down a few miles an hour? Try pitching to contact. Buckle down and get through this inning, or day, and keep moving forward. One foot in front of the other.
The 2026 Firebirds perfectly embodied both the struggle and great joy that living can bring. It was akin to a never-ending roller coaster ride. This Birds squad was one of amazing grit, persistence and adaptability. There were amazing highs; walk-off wins, crunch-time homers, and lights-out pitching performances. The lows were also present. Long losing streaks, bad luck with injuries, constant roster turnover, and devastating losses that took the air out of Eldredge Park. Through it all, the Birds stayed even-keeled. I was always amazed by the attitudes of the players. It was just summer ball, but it was Cape Cod League summer ball.
The men in the arena wearing the uniforms were playing for their futures. Scouts are always watching. Not just for on-field performance, but for attitude between innings and before and after games. The pressure was constant, but the positive attitudes stayed consistent. Every player to put on a Firebirds uniform carried themselves with integrity, but most of all, they had fun. Even after double-digit losses, the Birds still hosted the home fans on the field. They signed baseballs for kids, played catch, and answered every request for a photo — and still made time to talk with the rest of the media interns and me.
To me, that’s the defining atmosphere of Cape League baseball. On the surface, the sheer beauty of each field is captivating. All ten parks are pure baseball environments. Beautiful sunsets over harbors and outfield fences bordered by iconic Cape Cod pitch pine trees. No giant jumbotrons, no piped-in crowd noise, no unnecessary distractions. At most parks I was close enough to the backstop to hear the hitter question the umpire’s strike zone or to hear the pitcher console himself between pitches.
The best part though, was the environment of collaboration. Every intern, volunteer, and player is working towards the same goal. Help each other out, cover the events of a 40 game season, and start careers in baseball that should hopefully last a lifetime. I can’t say enough about all the help I received from everyone, and the great group of media and broadcast interns who made each day one to remember.
Working for the Orleans Firebirds this summer as the team writer was solidly one of the best experiences of my young life. Whether I was showing up early to talk with players between rounds of batting practice, watching and scoring from just behind home plate, getting postgame interviews, or writing a story, it was a summer of constant action. At points, it was surely a grind, but I was given the creative freedom and opportunity to chronicle a truly special season however I wanted.
Of course, the most important part of the job is to show up. After that, you’re required to be bold. Though that isn’t usually my strong suit, every day I employed the best piece of advice I’ve ever come up with myself: pick your target and start walking. It’s often that the brain psyches out the body. Don’t be afraid to talk to anyone. Approach people you haven’t talked with before. Uncovering stories is half the battle. It’s up to you how you’ll ask the right questions and bring words to life.
