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Total Meal: Lessons from Arkansas vs LSU and the Beauty of Baseball


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There’s a moment in every baseball game that gets replayed. It’s often not the thousands of quiet steps it took to get there, but the one slip, the one error, the one swing that ended it all. That’s the moment people remember.


This week, it was Arkansas’ Charles Davalan’s heartbreaking misplay in the bottom of the ninth that stole headlines. The routine out that slipped past him. The tying run that followed. LSU’s Jared Jones sent a liner into the outfield, and just like that, the game—and Arkansas’ season—was over.


Fans were quick to point fingers, social media was louder than ever, and the image of Davalan breaking down as his teammates consoled him spread across the country. But is that really the story?


Coach Van Horn said it best:

“We wouldn’t have gotten here … That kid … held everything together.”

And that’s the point.

Charles Davalan didn’t cost Arkansas the game. Baseball doesn’t work that way. Just like life doesn’t. This wasn’t a movie script with a single villain or a single hero. It was a season—a full-course meal—made up of moments: brilliant hits, clutch strikeouts, sliding catches, tough calls, and long bus rides. It was grit. It was belief. It was a team.

Kyle Peterson said on ESPN:

“Your heart goes out to Arkansas… When it causes heartache… those are the tough ones to watch with college kids.”

But heartbreak doesn’t define the journey.

At 806 Drive, we talk often about process. About how important it is to love the grind, not just the result. And this moment—the Davalan moment—is exactly why.

Because the deeper lesson in this game is not about a dropped ball. It’s about what got Arkansas there in the first place.


They made play after play. Big swings. Timely throws. Rallying around each other in pressure-packed innings. Every player contributed to that postseason run. And they had to beat tough teams to even earn the right to face LSU.

So we ask our players and families at 806 Drive: When we fall short—do we only look at the last pitch?


Or do we zoom out and see the beauty in the battle?

Life’s full of mistakes. Every at-bat, every business decision, every parenting moment has wins and losses built in. You can focus on the dropped ball—or you can remember the hundreds of routine grounders that were fielded cleanly. You can let one play haunt you—or let it humble and teach you.


In the Arkansas game, LSU also deserves credit. They never gave up. They put the ball in play. They trusted their approach. They played as a team, too. That’s what made it a great game.


So whether it’s your last tournament of the season, your last pitch of the day, or your last rep at practice, remember:


Don’t just pick apart the ingredients. Enjoy the full meal.

Because if you only look at one moment, you’ll miss the masterpiece it took to get there.

Baseball is a game of failure, and yet it teaches us how to carry ourselves with dignity, how to stand back up, and how to focus on the bigger picture.

We win as a team. We grow as a team. And sometimes, we fall as a team.

And that’s the meal we all signed up for.

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