- GROWING UP -

 I played a lot of sports growing up, but I always loved baseball the most. From Little League to playing in the Los Angeles Dodgers organization, my journey has been filled with challenges—each one testing my resolve and shaping the person I am today. Despite the obstacles, setbacks, and pain, I never wavered in my belief in myself. It’s been an incredible journey, and I’m a better man for having persevered through it all.
 

I believe I have a unique story—one that has given me a lifetime of unforgettable experiences. By the age of eighteen, I had lived on two different continents and in seven different U.S. states. Through it all, I learned to rely on routine for stability, to embrace new challenges, and to believe in the power of hard work. I held onto the confidence that I would eventually reach my goals—I just had to keep grinding.
 

I come from a military family. I was born in Japan on Yokosuka Naval Base and spent my early years there. From Japan, we moved to Washington, then Rhode Island, back to Japan, then Virginia Beach, Hawaii, Washington D.C., Singapore, California, and finally settled in Round Rock, Texas for my senior year of high school. All that moving wasn’t easy. I constantly had to adapt to new schools and make new friends. But through it all, baseball was my rock. No matter where we moved, baseball always found its way back into my life. I relied on it, I learned from it, and I respected it—even when it didn’t seem to respect me back.
 

One of my biggest challenges came when we moved to Singapore while my dad was stationed at the U.S. Embassy there. I was in fifth grade when we arrived, and we lived there for five years. Finding ways to train and play baseball wasn’t easy, but I found a unique opportunity through a Japanese youth baseball club. It was a major culture shock—their approach to training and discipline was unlike anything I had experienced before. But looking back, that experience instilled in me a mental toughness and discipline that became foundational to my growth as a player. It wasn’t easy at twelve years old, but I’m incredibly grateful for it now.
 

After my dad retired from the military, we moved to Thousand Oaks, California. That’s where I spent my  junior year of high school—and it’s where I began to get noticed. At first, it was smaller schools showing interest. Then more programs started to take a look. Before I knew it, I had some great options in front of me. It ultimately came down to UCLA and the University of Oregon. At the time, George Horton was the head coach at Oregon—a legendary figure in Southern California baseball with a national championship at Cal State Fullerton. I was drawn to the Ducks’ program and committed during the summer between my junior and senior year.
 

Then came the next curveball.

 

My dad accepted a new job in Austin, Texas, and we moved again—this time to Round Rock—for my senior year of high school. As tough as the move was, it turned out to be a blessing. I joined a powerhouse 6A program with a strong baseball tradition. I had a great season as a two-way player, earned All-State and All-District honors, was named Area Newcomer of the Year, and helped our team reach the state semifinals. Despite new interest from regional programs, I honored my commitment to Oregon.

                                                                                             - COLLEGE -

- My freshman year at Oregon was tough. I didn’t play much, and when I did, I struggled. In high school, my physical talent could often mask areas where I needed growth. But in college, everyone was talented. What separated the starters from the rest was preparation, discipline, and mental toughness. It was a painful but necessary experience. I wasn’t as ready as I thought—but I learned and grew.
 

At the end of that season, Coach Horton retired. A new staff came in, and I decided it was time for a fresh start—somewhere I could grow, get on the field, and continue developing. I bet on myself and transferred. In 2019, before the transfer rules changed, I had to go the JUCO route. I enrolled at Santa Barbara City College and officially became a JUCO Bandit. That experience toughened me. It grounded me. It helped me rediscover why I loved the game.
 

I started that JUCO season hot and was putting up good numbers. Then came something nobody saw coming—COVID-19. The season and school year were canceled. Luckily, I had done enough to catch the eye of Oregon State, and before long, I signed to become a Beaver.
 

With the season canceled, I returned home to Texas to wait out the pandemic like the rest of the country. Later that summer, a collegiate league was formed using vacant minor league stadiums across the Midwest. I jumped at the chance to play for the Round Rock Hairy Men, and it turned out to be one of the best baseball experiences of my life.

Then came another curveball.
 

                                                                                             - MY INJURY  -

In the final week of the season, a pitch hit me in the hand. It shattered
my throwing hand’s index finger, requiring surgery and the insertion of nine
lates to stabilize it. The injury was so severe that walking away would
have been understandable. But I chose to push forward. I went to Corvallis,
began rehabbing, and eventually played the entire season at Oregon State
with those nine plates still in my hand. I had a solid season—enough to
catch he attention of the Dodgers, who signed me as a free agent. I left
Oregon State after one year to pursue my professional dream.
 

That summer, I had surgery to remove the plates, rehabbed, and headed off to Arizona. Once again, the leap in competition hit me hard. In college, you occasionally saw pitchers destined to pitch at the next level.  In pro ball, their stuff was electric.  They were there for a reason and most of them had very sharp  secondary pitches. I battled my way out of rookie ball in Phoenix and moved up to Single-A.  My second year I had a good season in Rancho Cucamonga and began to find my footing. But deep down, I knew my hand was never quite the same. I was limited—and the Dodgers knew it too.

In professional baseball, the goal isn’t to be good in Single-A. The goal is to be a big leaguer. Eventually, the day every player dreads arrived—I was released.  I thought my journey in baseball was over.
 

Then, another door opened.
 

                                                                                             - COACHING -

Mitch Canham, the head coach at Oregon State  called and asked if I’d be interested in joining the coaching staff while finishing my degree. I jumped at the opportunity. At first, I didn’t know how I’d feel about coaching guys I had played alongside just a few years earlier. But I quickly discovered how rewarding coaching could be. I was able to use everything I had learned to help young players chase their own dreams. I saw the impact I could have.

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We had a great season, making it to a Super Regional at the University of Kentucky. Before the season even ended, I was offered the chance to coach a collegiate summer team—the Medford Rogues in Oregon. I said yes without hesitation.
 

That summer, I fell in love with coaching.

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Which brings me full circle—back to Texas, and the reason I founded KWF Consulting. My journey in baseball isn’t over; it’s simply entered a new chapter. Now, my mission is to coach the next generation of players—to help them along their own path, to guide them through their struggles, and to be a positive influence as they chase their dreams.