Ian Strom

The process matters more than the results.

It sounds simple. But most people don't actually live it.

Ian Strom did. A multi-sport kid from Hopedale, MA who played at UMass Lowell and got drafted in the 22nd round. By most measures, the odds were stacked against him. He wasn't a top pick. He wasn't a highly touted prospect. But he kept his head down and put in the work.

Ian made it to Double-A, one phone call away from the big leagues, every kid’s dream.

He understood something most young players and their parents miss. Work ethic. Discipline. Consistency. While everyone else was worried about stats, rankings, and the next showcase, Ian was taking the extra rep. Putting in the extra work. Getting better every single day because he knew that's what it actually takes.

That's the mental edge. And you won't find it on a scouting report.

I got to know Ian through work, and from the moment I met him I knew he was different. The kind of guy who shows up for people. The kind of guy who gets it.

Here's our conversation.

You grew up in Hopedale, MA and played at UMass Lowell. What was baseball like for you growing up, and was there a moment when you knew this was more than just a game?

Sports were everything growing up, and honestly they still are. Every season just rolled right into the next. I was lucky to have the same group of friends and we played everything together, basketball, baseball, soccer, football. You name it. Once one season ended, we were already onto the next one.

One moment that always sticks with me was in 3rd grade, the first year of summer All-Star baseball. I remember our first practice, doing infield-outfield drills, and looking around at all the kids making plays. For the first time it clicked for me, it felt like what I had been watching on TV. I remember thinking, this is real baseball. From then on I just loved being around the game and wanted to keep getting better.

You were a multi-sport athlete. Football, basketball, baseball. How important was that to your development, and what would you tell a parent who's being pressured to lock their kid into one sport?

Honestly, this might be the most important thing for me looking back. As much as I loved baseball, I also loved playing basketball and football. People would always ask me what my favorite sport was, and my answer was simple, whatever sport I was playing at the time. I just loved competing.

That constant change kept it exciting and kept me motivated. Playing multiple sports makes you a better athlete. You're using different muscles, learning different instincts, and becoming more well-rounded. But just as important is the mental side. If a kid specializes too early, it can start to feel like a job.

When you're 8 years old and training like you're already in the MLB, you risk losing the fun of it. At that age, kids just want to be out there competing with their friends. That's really what builds the love of the game.

Let them play everything. Competition in any form makes you better, so go compete.

Every player faces adversity at some point. How did you handle yours and what did it teach you?

One of the biggest lessons sports taught me was learning not to get too high or too low. Over a long season, staying even-keel is everything.

Early on, if I'm being honest, I didn't always handle that the right way. I wore my heart on my sleeve and let my emotions show too much. The lesson that really hit me came at UMass Lowell. There was a conference game where my coach benched me because I wasn't controlling my emotions. A couple innings later, we were in position to win and I should've been on the mound closing it out. Instead I was sitting on the bench watching.

That one stuck with me. I realized how much your actions affect the team. It's not just about you. After that I started focusing on what I could control. My body language, my effort, being a good teammate. Once I learned to channel those emotions instead of letting them take over, it made me better. Not just as a player, but as a teammate too.

You shared a clubhouse with Tim Tebow, one of the most famous athletes in the world. What did you learn from being around him every day that most people on the outside would never understand?

First and foremost, Tim Tebow is an incredible human being. What stood out to me right away was how present he was. Even with everyone wanting a piece of his time, when you were talking to him, whether it was in the clubhouse, in the cage, or just a conversation about life, he was fully there. You'd walk away from those moments thinking a little deeper and honestly feeling uplifted.

There's one moment that really stuck with me. I was on the row machine during a lift, probably just kind of going through the motions. Tim walked in, looked over, and stopped me. He goes, "Stromy… that's all you got?" It wasn't said in a bad way. It was just who he was. He expected the best out of himself, and he had a way of getting the best out of the people around him too.

That was something I noticed not just with him, but with a lot of high-level players like David Wright, Andrés Giménez, and Pete Alonso. At the end of the day, they're human. They have good days, bad days, all the same emotions everyone else has. But what separates them is consistency.

Tim was the same guy whether the cameras were on or off. The standard he held himself to was honestly hard to put into words. I know it might sound cliché, but when you were around him, he had a way of pushing you to be better too. The publicity he gets is deserved. He really is a top-class person who carries himself at an incredibly high level every single day.

What do you see in youth baseball today that worries you most?

A couple things stand out to me. First, there are just too many games. And second, kids are specializing way too early and getting worn down. Everything is so focused on results that you'll see a team pitch their best player every other game, and then when he's not pitching he's at shortstop playing the whole game too. That's a lot for a young kid.

Baseball is really a game of routine. Practicing, working on your craft, and finding a way to do it consistently. When you get to pro ball, you realize every single guy there has the talent to play at the highest level. What separates people is the ability to show up with your A-game consistently over a long season.

One thing that really grinds my gears is when I go to a little league game and the third base coach is giving mechanical tips between every pitch "keep your shoulder here," "stay closed," "foot down," all that stuff. In my opinion, that's not the time for it. The message during a game should be simple: compete. Encourage the kid. Let them play.

Mechanics should be worked on in practice in the cage, taking ground balls, doing drills. That's when you talk about footwork, hands, timing, all of it. But once the lights come on and you're in the box, the mindset should be about competing. The only thing you should be thinking is that you're ready for the pitcher and you're going to battle.

During games, coaches should be talking about cues, not mechanics. Things like, "He's missing high, be ready," or "Two strikes, he likes to throw the curveball in the dirt." Observing tendencies, helping kids understand the game. When you pack the schedule with games, it almost forces coaches to try to teach mechanics in the middle of competition and that's where I think things start to go the wrong direction. At the end of the day, youth baseball should still be about development, competing, and having fun playing the game.

You were a 22nd round pick from a mid-major and you made it to Double-A. What did you have that most guys didn't?

Two things set me apart. My compete level was very high. I convinced myself every single day that the pitcher had absolutely nothing that could beat me. That mentality never wavered.

The second thing was understanding what I did well and maximizing it. I knew I wasn't a plus bat and didn't hit for great power. What I did do well was run the bases, play great defense, bring a high baseball IQ, and be a tough out at the plate. When I was doing those things, I was at my best. When I struggled, it was because I got away from that and tried to do things I wasn't built to do.

Know what you do well. Stick to it. Compete every single day.

Who was the biggest influence on your career and what did they teach you that had nothing to do with baseball?

My love for the game really started with two people, my dad and my grandfather. My dad and I watched the Red Sox together almost every night. Since I could barely sit up on my own, I'd be in the corner of the room and we'd just toss a squishy ball back and forth during the games. My grandfather also took me to my first Red Sox game, Pedro was pitching that night, and I still remember how special that felt.

Another person who had a huge impact on me was my 5th grade teacher, Mr. Durso. He was also our little league coach for basketball and baseball, and he always looked out for me. He went out of his way to help not just in sports, but in life too. After we won the 5th grade summer All-Stars, he sat me down and said, "Don't forget about me when you make it to the MLB." I didn't quite get there, but that moment always stuck with me.

What those people taught me went way beyond baseball, it was about showing up for people, working hard, and enjoying the time you get with the people who support you.

You're sitting with a group of young players and their parents right now. What's the one thing you want them to walk away understanding?

The biggest thing is to have fun and build a real love for the game. That's what keeps you coming back and wanting to get better. Watch baseball, be a student of it, and learn from it. Not just the skills, but the lessons it teaches about competing, handling failure, and being a good teammate.

Don't rush the process. Play different sports, let kids enjoy being kids, and trust that development takes time. The guys who last are the ones who know what they do well and stick to it. Compete every day, focus on your strengths, and don't try to be someone you're not. Do that and you'll give yourself a real chance to go as far as you can.

“Winning is the ultimate fun. Compete your tail off, play the game the right way, and enjoy every minute of it. The game will teach you a lot if you let it, about hard work, handling failure, and being a great teammate. Show up ready to compete, support the people around you, and don't lose the love for the game along the way.”

Ian Strom gave us the truth.

A kid from Hopedale who played everything, loved competing, and grinded his way to Double-A. One call away from the biggest stage in the world. He wasn't the top pick. He wasn't the top prospect. But he had something you can't put on a scouting report.

Discipline. Work ethic. Consistency. A compete level that never wavered.

He told parents to let their kids play everything. To stop rushing the process. That the love of the game is built on the field with friends. Not in a showcase at age 9.

He reminded coaches that games are for competing and practices are for mechanics. That the message when the lights come on should be simple. Go battle.

And he told players to know what they do well and stick to it. That the guys who last aren't always the most talented. They're the ones who show up every single day and compete.

Last summer Ian took time out of his day to come work with my All-Star team at practice. He didn't have to. He showed up, gave some tips when it was necessary, told some stories, and made every kid feel like they mattered. And if that wasn't enough, he gave my kids Avery and Luke each a bat from his playing days. They still talk about it.

That's Ian Strom. That's who he is off the field.

The process matters more than the results. Keep it fun. Learn the game. Show up every day ready to compete.

That's what this is all about.

Help me keep more kids in the game. If you found this helpful, please forward it to another parent or coach.

Thanks for being here. See you next week Inside the Dugout.

-Coach Steve-

Steve Holmes
Founder, Inside the Dugout
2006 MLB Draft | All-American | Youth Coach | Dad