- Josh Gessner
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- You need to be "cringe"
You need to be "cringe"
as a baseball player
Yesterday, I decided to make a video while walking around in public.
But the whole time… I felt so cringe.
People were around, the Diamondbacks’ stadium was right there, crowds were walking past, and here I was with a camera pointed at myself.
As an introvert, that’s not easy.
But that uncomfortable moment was the perfect setting to explain this truth: being “cringe” isn’t bad in the slightest.
For baseball players, being cringe simply means doing something out of the norm.
And that’s exactly what you need to do if you want to separate yourself.
If you do what everyone else does, you’ll get what everyone else gets: nowhere.
The reality is this—if you’re in the middle of the pack, you won’t get recruited to big-time D1 programs or go pro.
Only the very top percentage of players ever reach that level.
To stand out, you have to do what not many players are willing to do.
And that often comes at the cost of being called “cringe.”
When I was 16, I threw 78 miles per hour.
I followed the team workouts, did what everyone else did, and it got me nowhere.
So, I started a velocity development routine.
At the time, weighted balls and specialized training were frowned upon.
My teammates thought I was weird.
They called me “cringe”.
But here’s the thing: I was the only one from that team who went on to play above the Division 1 level.
Not one of those guys who stuck to the “normal” route did.
Being “cringe” is one of the most powerful methods of personal development.
When you embrace being cringe, you build something I call the “f*** it muscle.”
Every time you feel nervous, insecure, or worried about what people think, and you decide, “f*** it, I’m doing this anyway,” that muscle grows stronger.
It’s one of the most powerful muscles you can develop—not physically, but mentally.
When I had the yips, I realized I didn’t have that muscle built.
I cared way too much about what other people thought.
I let other people’s opinions weigh more than my own.
That insecurity crushed me.
If I had been strong enough to say, “f*** it, I don’t care what you think, I’m doing me,” I never would have gotten the yips in the first place.
As a 16-year-old, I was willing to be cringe.
But at 18, in professional baseball, I was an insecure introvert trying to fit in.
I went from being a big fish in a small pond to a small fish in an enormous sea.
And instead of leaning into being different, I pulled back.
Here’s the takeaway: sometimes you need to be cringe.
Being cringe means you’re doing things not many others are willing to do.
And that’s exactly what separates you.
It’s what develops you.
It’s what builds the “f*** it muscle” that allows you to stop caring about other people’s opinions and focus only on your growth.
If you want to go further than the rest—whether in baseball, business, or life—you can’t just follow the norm.
You need to be willing to stand out.
To look weird.
To do the thing that makes people point, laugh, and call you cringe.
Because in the end, being cringe is what puts you ahead of your competition.
I’m rooting for you.
Josh