Growing up in a family with two college athletes for parents, I have always been an immense competitor. Whether it was church league basketball as a kid or the baseball state championship, I always took pride in winning. My most strenuous athletic efforts took place on the baseball diamond. To say that baseball runs in the family is a grand understatement. Both my father and his twin brother played college baseball and my grandfather played shortstop for the cubs for two seasons before getting drafted to the Korean War. Many other people might have been burned out by seeing, hearing, watching, and playing baseball for countless days before even amassing the required theme ride height of 48 inches at Six Flags. However, some natural captivation surrounding the diamond engulfed me, and not a day went by that I did not play catch or watch the braves at dinner with my dad. Maybe it was the smell of the Georgia clay dirt, or the feeling of gliding across the freshly cut grass. My love for baseball fueled a passion for any chance to compete and challenge myself, whether it was spending countless hours running up and down the beach trying to learn a new skimboarding trick or needing to finish building a lego set by myself. Although I am no longer an athlete, my countless hours training and playing sports incited a set of ideals that inspire me to want to win. More importantly than winning, I learned how to deal with adversity and how to handle the pressure when competing at a high level. Scientists state that it takes 725,000 pounds per square inch of squeezing carbon to forge a diamond. Through my extensive experiences withstanding pressure, my life’s diamond was cultivated on a baseball diamond.