It's Not Easy Being In Pinstripes
- Paul Semendinger

- 53 minutes ago
- 9 min read
By Paul Semendinger
August 26, 2026
***
(Forgive, please, the child-like references. I just became a grandpa, again, and have been spending lots of time with (the most wonderful) small children in the world.)
It's not easy being green - and it's not easy being a Major League shortstop.
In my discussions on this topic, I feel that so many do not understand the pressure of playing in the Major Leagues. Everything is different - different and harder and more difficult and more pressure packed and more intense and more relentless than anything that person has ever experienced before. It is more intense and overwhelming than anything most of the experts and analysts and fans and writers and commentators have ever experienced.
The players are bigger and stronger. The pitching is better. The batters hit the ball differently - and harder. Everything is faster - and at a level that that player has never seen before.
The stadiums are bigger. The games are louder. And brighter. And noisier. The cities are bigger and noisier too.
Everything is new and grand and majestic and gigantic. Everything. Not just the baseball itself, which, in reality, is only a small part of what that player is experiencing. It's everything. Reaching the Bigs is life-changing in profound ways.
And the activity in the clubhouse is faster and more intense. There are more writers and reporters and microphones and cameras. There are more coaches and clubhouse personnel. There is less privacy and there are more expectations both on and off the field.
In fact, once the game is over, the life is vastly different than that person has also ever experienced. There is big league food. And big league hotels. And big league places to go. And big league people to meet. And big league people and hangers-on who follow big leaguers in any (and many) sorts of ways. Everything is there. Everything. Stuff that wasn't at one's finger tips just days before.
And the comforts and securities and people of home are often hundreds of miles away. It's tough to be on your own.
George Lombard just turned 21-years-old. Less than 90 days ago, he wasn't even old enough to buy an alcoholic drink. That's how young he is. And now he is thrust into one of the brightest lights imaginable.
It's a new world - a whole new world. (Please forgive me again...)
I would like every reader to pause and stop for a bit and just reflect on what I am about to ask them to honestly consider...
Try to remember your first day at college, especially if you were away and on your own.
Try to remember your first days at your first job.
And try to remember your first days at your current job - which is possibly your career right now.
Think of the expectations and the pressures you faced. Think of all the self-doubt, the wonder. Remember how everything was different - how people looked at you differently
Think of your colleagues. Think of your bosses. Think of the feelings of inadequacy. Think of the workers in your employment who might have made things difficult on you. Think of how people act in public and in private. Think of the expectations they all had of you. The rules. The unwritten rules. There was so much...
And then, once you fully remember all of that, and appreciate it, imagine all of that along with the pressure of imagining that as you did your job, that 45,000 live people were watching you, in person, and that million of others were watching you on line and on television.
Think of trying to perform in the most intense environment you have ever experienced. And think of knowing that every mistake you make is going to be written about, discussed, analyzed, and highlighted over and over.
When you stop and really consider all of this, it can give a window into what it must be like for a rookie to be called-up to the big leagues.
It's a ton of pressure to be a big leaguer.
There's more pressure coming up in New York.
There's even more pressure playing for the Yankees.
And there is vastly more pressure playing in New York for the Yankees in the middle of a pennant race.
On top of all that, imagine being the person being who is being asked, in a very large sense to be the savior (in very real expectations) of the Yankees in New York during a pennant race during the summer in which you just turned 21-years-old - an age when most readers here, I am sure, were still at college and thinking they had it rough with the expectations they were being asked to do. ("You want me to write a five page paper for the next class - the one five days away?!" And you want me to speak about it, in front of fifteen people? The whole class?")
And on top of all those other pressures on Lombard, he is being asked to handle all of this while playing one of the key positions on the field.
Yeah, welcome to the world of George Lombard, Jr.
***
At the start, when everything is new, we can often perform over our heads. Our talent takes over. We don't think, everything just happens.
But then, the initial novelty wears off and we have to actually think about our decisions, the reactions, the questions that'll be asked, and the answers we will have to give.
("I didn't actually think... of that...")
Most of us have been in these situations in our lives, except they happen quietly - not in front of millions.
We might be told, "I know you made the sale, but what did you actually say? No, that's not how we do things here." And then we might wonder to ourselves, "I hope the other six people in my department don't know about this. What would they say?"
(I play piano, but not well. Due to my busy schedule, I am often away from the keyboard for months on end. Sometimes when I sit down to play and I try to read the music I get stuck, - frozen. I have no idea what to do. (I try to reason, "Every Good Boy Does Fine, that's a F.") My hands are completely useless.
But other times, I'll find a song I haven't played for years and my left and right hands know exactly where to go as if I'm not even trying to read the music. Talent and reactions and past practice take over - but when we think too hard, it doesn't work as naturally. Yogi said, "You can't think and hit at the same time." That goes for fielding as well - and so much more.)
There is a fine balance between the thinking game, natural ability, pure talent, and performing. At some points, the raw talent, the millions of repetitions, the muscle memory takes over. At other times, the ability to concentrate and focus is what matters. (This is why, also, it is so difficult, to move a player to a position he has never played before at the Major League level and expecting that player to not just play the position, but to play it at a Major League acceptable level. Expecting a player to know the nuances that another player who has spent decades perfecting that position is simply unrealistic.)
I know some mocked me the other day. It's easy to poke fun. It's easy to make jokes. But anyone who has ever played the game at a competitive level knows that there are different pressures put on a player in different spots of the batting order. Fans can joke, "Ha, ha, sixth or seventh, what's the difference..." But there is a difference. A very real difference. There is an internal pressure and higher expectations on the player when he bats in more important spots. The uninformed can laugh, but they're just, plain, wrong.
There is the least amount of pressure batting ninth. No one has ever batted ninth and said, "Whew, that's a lot to ask." Ninth is where pitchers used to almost exclusively bat.
And ninth is where a rookie should bat. At least one a team believes has a future. The Yankees should have let George Lombard, Jr. acclimate, slowly, to the expectations of being a Major League baseball player - and all that entails, both on and off the field.
Because acclimating to the Major Leagues is hard. Playing for the Yankees is harder and more challenging immeasurably. Doing this in a pennant race - even more so.
We have heard stories, and seen, the pressures on veteran players that have come to the Yankees. Stars. Accomplished big leaguers, We have seen them struggle when arriving in New York. Reggie Jackson struggled. Roger Clemens struggled. Good Gossage struggled. Jason Giambi struggled. Tino Martinez struggled. None of those were 21-years-old who began that season in sleepy old Somerset County, New Jersey.
We have all heard, and seen, stories of players who let one aspect of their play impact another. ("He was thinking of that last at bat, as the ground ball came at him...")
This happens with veterans. It's even more difficult on rookies.
Remember everything in the big leagues is moving at a speed unlike anything that person, the rookie, has ever imagined.
And then, here comes a hard hit grounder, going faster and with a spin that isn't like anything he experienced before. And then another. And another. And that guy running towards the base... he's...huge. And fast! And... more intense. And the ball from the second baseman comes faster than I expected - all while the noises around me are distracting...
Those guys on the other team also aren't kids like me any more. Those guys are the ones I saw on TV. Those guys were my heroes as a kid. I had their baseball cards. And I am supposed to be able to play at their level? Me?
Sure, there are times when instincts take over, but when the player needs to concentrate, a bad swing the previous inning can impact one's concentration in the field - just as a muffed grounder can impact a future at bat... and so forth. On and on.
George Lombard came up and from the instant he arrived, just on the field of play, without all of the other distractions, and has been expected to be the Yankees' savior. He has performed admirably. He really has but...
He made an error last night. It was his 18th big league game - and he made his fifth error. He's on pace for a 45 error season over 162 games.
I thought he was already a big league fielder. That's what everyone said.
Except, it's just not that easy. It simply is not. There is a lot more to being a big leaguer than talent and skills alone.
***
Teams need to be very smart when they transition kids to the big leagues, especially the highly rated ones.
My concern with the Yankees is that... they aren't very good at this, at all.
They Yankees are asking too much of the kid right now. Logic screams that the Yankees are setting him up for failure.
Think about this - they have actually featured George Lombard, Jr. on the promotional ads for upcoming games - something reserved for established stars, not kids in their first days in the Majors.
Recent history demonstrates that the Yankees done this many times - put too much pressure on a kid far too soon. We have seen this numerous times before.
It wasn't easy for Kermit to be green.
It's less easy for George Lombard, Jr. to be a Yankee. The pressures he faces are unlike anything most people have ever experienced.
And that is why the Yankees should have eased him into this new spot and should still be easing him in.
Rookies make mistakes. Mistakes are part of learning and growing. Teams need to give young players the necessary space to make those mistakes. And that just is something the Yankees fail to do time and time again.
I am rooting for George Lombard, Jr. I hope he succeeds. He seems like a player we can root for for decades. (But we thought the same about Anthony Volpe, a player handled in much the same fashion.)
I wish the Yankees approached his entire call-up process and the way they are handling Lombard completely differently.
He might rise to the challenge, but, on the other hand, he might also become the next in a long line of players with great talent who were expected to do too much too soon.
I hope I am wrong. I really do. But each time I hear about a George Lombard error, I can't help but think of everything going through his mind and wonder if his transition to the Majors was handled differently if things would be a little different. I think they would.
I have said this before, but the failure of Anthony Volpe to be the Yankees shortstop of today and the future, in part was on him, of course, but also, in large part on the way the Yankees handled his transition to the Major Leagues. The Yankees own much of Volpe's failure. And yet they're doing many of the same things and making the same mistakes, with George Lombard, Jr.
Just a little common sense was needed - something the people who run the Yankees seem to lack or fail to use far too often.
***
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I cannot find fault with your reasoning and conclusions.