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

Atticus was eight. Travel ball. He made the roster — barely.

First game of the season. Before the national anthem, the coach pulled the whole team together — parents watching, everyone listening — and said out loud that Atticus and a few others wouldn't play. They wanted a better chance to win.

Atticus never took the field. 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.