08/28/2026
My freshman year of college baseball, our coach did something I've never forgotten.
He had every position player rank the entire roster, 1 through 20. Best player to last. And we had to include ourselves on that list.
Then he met with each of us, one at a time. He'd show us where we ranked ourselves. Then he'd show us where he actually had us.
I still remember the gap between those two numbers. It wasn't comfortable. But it was one of the most valuable hours of my entire career, because it forced something most of us avoid at all costs: an honest, unflinching look at where we actually stood, from someone who had zero reason to sugarcoat it.
I've spent the 16 years since watching this play out with other people's kids.
I've run a training facility. I've coached at the college level. And the single biggest thing separating players who develop and get recruited from players who stall out isn't talent, and it isn't money spent on trainers or recruiting packages.
It's whether someone in their life is willing to tell them the truth — and whether they're willing to hear it.
Most of the time, nobody wants that job. Parents don't want to be the one who tells their son he's not where he needs to be. Trainers who are paid by the family have a financial incentive to keep the relationship pleasant, not honest. Recruiting services are selling hope, not an evaluation.
So kids go years without ever getting the version of that conversation I had as a freshman — the one where someone who genuinely wants them to succeed sits them down and tells them exactly where they stand, gap and all.
Here's what I'd tell any parent, in baseball or anywhere else:
Self-evaluation matters, but it's not enough on its own — we're all a little blind to our own gaps. Find someone with no financial or emotional stake in flattering you, and ask them the question directly. Then actually use the answer instead of shopping around for one you like better.
It's uncomfortable. It's also the fastest path to real improvement I've ever seen, in baseball or in anything else worth getting good at.
I built a free tool that does a version of this for baseball families — an honest, objective read on where a player's tools actually stand against real college benchmarks, with no sales pitch attached. If you're a baseball parent and you've been wondering where your son really stands, that's exactly what it's for.
But even if baseball isn't your world: find your version of that ranking exercise. Ask someone to tell you the truth. Then do something with it.