"The Big Dog" Mitch Vosburg

Respect — a feeling of deep admiration for someone or something elicited by their abilities, qualities, or achievements.

It’s a word that has deep meaning in the world of sports and in life. It’s also the first word that comes to mind when I think of this group that made up the 2025 Escanaba softball team.

See, for the last 11 months I’ve been operating with a torn Meniscus in my right knee. For the last week I’ve been healing two pretty decent wounds from a dog bite less than two minutes after coming home from the Eskymos regional championship win.

When the Eskymos suffered their 2-0 season-ending loss to eventual state champion Richmond I remember riding in the elevator to the press box at Secchia Stadium. See, at this point I had traveled a little over 1,750 miles between June 6 and June 12 while also setting records for amounts of hours I worked in a day on one good leg and with one good arm.

I was exhausted emotionally and mentally. Like most post game situations my knee pain began to ratchet upward. My left forearm was throbbing.

“It’s over. Thank god it’s over,” I said to myself less than 15 seconds after smacking the elevator wall with my good hand. I lost count of how many times I’ve broken down into tears since the last pitch was thrown after 12.

Yet, I’d sign up to go through every second of this without hesitation.

See, the relationship I’ve built with this group of young ladies in Escanaba has been special. It’s a relationship that’s built on respect.

And believe it or not, that relationship wasn’t built on a softball diamond. No, this all started on Sept. 12, 2024 at Gladstone High School.

But before I dive too deep into this story, let’s go over some background information as a refresher or for those who are new here: on June 20, 2020 I made the decision not to commit suicide. You see “The Big Dog” in the byline because it serves as a reminder that adversity, similar to “The Big Dog”, is nothing more than a random combination of nine letters. It’s a reminder that if a kid from Climax, Michigan (look it up, real place) can power through whatever life throws at you, anyone can.

OK, we’re all caught up, back to Sept. 12, 2024 at Gladstone High School.

It was the first matchup of the season between the Eskymos and Braves. A majority of the Esky softball roster also played volleyball. In between the first and second sets of the match Gladstone was set to have a “Miracle Minute”. This is where, for one minute, buckets are passed around the gym to help raise money for a charity.

On this night, the charity was one that promotes suicide awareness and prevention. It was the one night I didn’t have cash on me, which was kind of a bummer. But I was intrigued to see how this particular fundraiser was going to go.

The minute started. And what I saw next surprised me in the best way possible.

Every single member of Esky’s bench suddenly had cash on them. They were also sprinting to the nearest bucket.

It took every ounce of strength in me not to burst into tears while sitting on the gym floor. Most teams are focused on the match.

Nearly every athlete and every program I’ve covered has my respect. Some I’ve become really close with, especially up here.

Yet, in that minute of time that group of young ladies became more than some team — they became a group of young ladies that earned my ultimate respect.

I pushed myself to limits I didn’t know were breakable not because Grayson LaMarche is an elite pitcher (although it didn’t hurt either). I pushed myself not because Katey Lamb could slug with the best of them (again, it didn’t hurt either).

I pushed myself because this was the first group I felt a mutual level of respect for. It’s why through pain, illness, a lingering winter and so many other reasons I kept moving forward.

Yet, through every negative I can safely say that I never had this much fun at my job in a sports season.

In the series finale of my favorite TV show “The Office” Andy Bernard, played by Ed Helms, dropped a legendary line that sits rent free in my head — “I wish there was a way to know you’re in the good old days before you’ve actually left them.”

The beautiful thing is that I’ll never have to ask myself this question. I know for a fact that this current chapter of my life is the good old days, and this group of young ladies are a huge part of it.

The best part is that it’s not because of any home run, stolen base or perfect game (again, they didn’t hurt either). I’ll remember them for the respect they showed.

And for that, I am grateful.

“The Big Dog” Mitch Vosburg is a multi-time award-winning sports writer and photographer who proudly serves as sports editor for The Daily Press and the Upper Peninsula sports scene. He can be reached at mvosburg@dailypress.net. Follow him on Instagram (@themantheycallmitch) and on X (@realmitchvburg).