Reflections on the Draft.

Following the news about the 2009 MLB Amateur Draft reminds me of the day when I was drafted. The phone rang about 1:30 in the afternoon on that fateful Saturday and the voice on the other end asked, "Is this Paul Reynolds?" Now, for those of you who don't know me so well, my legal name is Paul Reynolds (although I go by Chance). My Dad is also Paul Reynolds (Jr...I'm the III, or turd, as my Mom used to say), so when people would call our house and ask for Paul Reynolds, the call was usually for my Dad. So I asked in return, "are you looking for Paul Reynolds, the Dad or Paul Reynolds, the Son?" And the unknown voice on the other end said, "I'm looking for Paul Reynolds, the Catcher." Once I heard that, I knew my dream of playing professional baseball had come true.

I looked at my Mom and gave her a thumbs up and listened to the voice on the other end of a phone call I had waited my whole life to hear say, "Paul, this is Bobby Gardner and I'm calling to tell you, you were just picked in the 54th round by the San Francisco Giants." The rest was a blur as my Mom cried, and I tried not to. My mind raced with excitement. I was to catch a plane the very next day and report to Everett, Washington, where I would be joining my new teammates and we would all begin an even crazier journey to one day try to play in the Big Leagues.

Draft Day is a very emotional moment in a ballplayer's life. Some guys never get the call, and their dreams usually end with the silence. But the ones that do, can always say "I was drafted." And it's a small fraternity of ball players that can say that. We all ran around on a Tee-Ball field together, but eventually the bottle has a neck, and the MLB Amateur Draft is the beginning of that neck.

Congratulations to each and every player who was drafted. I wish you all the success in the world!