Letting Go, Refocusing, and Moving Forward: A Lesson in Goal Setting

When I was released from the Minnesota Twins, I never took the time to process my pain. Like any aspiring athlete, I had dreams of making it to the major leagues and building a successful career as a professional baseball player. But life had other plans. Suddenly, I was back in the Netherlands, and without hesitation, I returned to school and continued playing in the Dutch major league.

At first, it was fun. The competition wasn’t as intense, and it was easy to be successful. But by my second season, I started noticing something unsettling—I was losing some of the skills I had honed during my time as a professional baseball player. No matter how hard I tried to avoid it, I was constantly reminded that I was no longer with the Minnesota Twins. And that reality frustrated me.

Frustration crept into every aspect of the game. I found myself annoyed when teammates wore regular sneakers instead of cleats, when umpires made bad calls, and when spectators shouted nonsensical advice from the stands. But deep down, I knew these weren’t the real sources of my frustration. The truth was, I was still grieving the loss of my dream. My hopes of making it to the MLB had been crushed, and I had never allowed myself to process that loss.

Thankfully, I was blessed with a coach like Charles Urbanus. Whether he knew it or not, his guidance led me to a sports psychologist, and that was where I finally understood what was really happening. I had never grieved my failure as a professional baseball player. I had tied my entire identity to being “Wesley Connor, professional baseball player for the Minnesota Twins,” and now that identity was gone. I needed to make peace with that loss before I could move forward.

But there was also hope. The sports psychologist helped me rediscover my motivation. My life mantra had always been: Control the things you can control. Yet, I had spent so much energy getting frustrated over things outside my control—umpires’ calls, how others played the game, how the crowd reacted. If I wanted to move forward, I had to refocus on what I could control and let go of the rest.

So I did just that. One of the biggest changes I made was refusing to let bad umpire calls dictate my performance. Instead of reacting emotionally, I focused on my hitting approach. If a pitch was outside my zone, I wouldn’t swing—even if the umpire called it a strike. I stuck to my standards, my process, and my discipline. To reinforce this mindset, I printed an image that reminded me to stick to my game plan. If you spent time in the locker room with me, you would have seen it hanging in my locker—a constant reminder every time I stepped onto the field.

Over time, the frustration faded. I started enjoying the game again, becoming a more mature player and, hopefully, a better teammate.

The Lesson Beyond Baseball

This lesson didn’t just apply to baseball. I’ve experienced the same feelings in my professional life. Sometimes, the context changes, and I find myself dragging my feet at work, dreading meetings before they even start. Sound familiar? Trust me, I’ve been there.

But because of my experience in baseball, I now recognize the signs. The moment frustration creeps in, I turn to the same framework: the circles of influence. I ask myself three questions:

1. What is in my control?
2. What can I influence?
3. What is outside of my control?

Everything in the outer circle—things I cannot change—I immediately let go of. If I can change something, then there’s no reason to worry; I just take action. And if I can’t change it, worrying won’t help. This mindset shift allows me to refocus on my goals and avoid unnecessary frustration.

To reinforce this approach, I use visual reminders, just like I did in baseball. For example, I’ve set my laptop background to an image that represents my goals, so every morning when I open my computer, I’m reminded of my focus. Even my Zoom background has, at times, been a strategic reminder—like when I used an image of Tony Stark’s office. To others, it was just a cool background. But to me, it was a symbol of rationality and problem-solving, reminding me to stay solution-oriented rather than dwelling on obstacles.

The Importance of Processing Loss

But here’s the biggest lesson I’ve learned: before any of this works, you have to acknowledge and process your setbacks. I used to ignore disappointments, pretending they didn’t bother me. But those feelings always came back eventually. Now, I take the time to feel the disappointment. I let myself be bummed out. I talk about it openly. And simply saying it out loud alleviates the weight of it, allowing me to move forward more quickly.

Once I process the loss, I can shift my focus to motivation and growth. From there, it’s about setting clear goals, reinforcing them with visual cues, and staying disciplined in execution.

That’s how I continue to push forward. That’s how I stay motivated. And that’s how I make sure I’m always Never Not Working.