"I don't want the coach to be right about me."

Atticus was eight. Travel ball. He made the roster — barely. But the coach had already decided.

Game day. The lineup card went up. Atticus wasn't on it. Not in the field, not in the rotation. Just sitting. Watching his teammates take the field without him.

The team lost 10–0. Run rule. Three innings. No hits.

On the drive home, he said something that changed everything. Not anger. Not revenge. Something quieter. Something harder to shake.

An internal standard.

That's ATTIBOY. For every kid who's been counted out, benched, overlooked. Not because of talent — because of someone else's calculation.

You know what you are before anyone else does.

Attiboy.