I played nearly a decade in Major League Baseball, including Game Seven of the 2016 World Series. But if you would have told high school Brandon that I'd make it that far, he would have never believed you.

In high school, I was a mess. I'd actually hope my teammates would get out so I wouldn't have to hit in big situations. On defense, I'd pray the ball wasn't hit to me.

I was terrified of failure. I was convinced there was something wrong with me.

It wasn't until senior year that I learned everyone has those feelings, and that you can turn them into fuel.

Everything after that moment was different. I started to train my mindset intentionally, and because of that, I got recruited to UVA, became a Hall of Fame player there, and got drafted by the Cubs.

But it wasn't a straight line up. In Double-A, I hit .180 after 200 at bats. They had me coaching first base instead of playing. If I hadn't been training my mind, that would've been the end of the road.

The fix. I recommitted to the same intentional mental training that had helped me before.

The next year I became Cubs Minor League Player of the Year and hit a home run in my first big league at-bat.

Fast forward to game seven of the World Series. Bottom of the eighth. Two outs. They bring in Aroldis Chapman, hardest thrower in baseball. My heart's pounding. The old voice still crept in, don't strike out, millions are watching.

But I knew what to do. Controlled my breath. Flipped the switch. "Bring it on, Chapman."

I came through.

That's what mental training does. It doesn't guarantee results. It guarantees you show up as your best self when it matters most.