Submitted photo Mifflin County’s Evan Strohecker enters the batter's box in a Mid-Penn contest.

LEWISTOWN – Some baseball players spend their whole lives chasing a trophy, a title, or a name on some list most folks never read. Evan Strohecker missed two full seasons, dusted off his glove, and made one of the toughest all-state teams in Pennsylvania.

Go ahead–try making the Pennsylvania State Baseball Coaches Association (PSBCA) Class 6A all-state squad if you haven’t picked up a bat since TikTok was an app for dancing.

But there he was, back in the outfield for Mifflin County, with nothing on his mind except “let’s have some fun.” He wasn’t supposed to be the headline. After all, you don’t make all-state by taking two years off, unless your name is Bo Jackson and your sport is whatever he felt like playing that day.

It started, as these things do, with low expectations. He showed up for the first scrimmage, not sure if the game would come back, or if baseball had moved on without him. If you’ve ever tried to return to a game after years away, you know the feeling. Muscles remember. The mind? Not always.

Strohecker admits it himself: “After our scrimmages and our first game, I didn’t know how the season was going to go. I kept working hard in practice, trying to hit line drives and get back in a groove. Coach (Ray) Hoppel was really helpful during that time, and all the other coaches as well.”

Turns out, “not knowing” is a good place to start. For Strohecker, the comeback wasn’t about racking up stats, though he did plenty of that. It wasn’t about showing up scouts or silencing critics. It was about finding out for himself if the game still fit. Sometimes you step back onto the diamond, and sometimes the diamond steps right back into you.

He hit .450. He got on base more than half the time. He stole 14 bases. He made only one error all season, in one of those outfields where the grass is never flat and the sun never bothers to get out of the way. These aren’t numbers for a “comeback player.” These are numbers for a player, period. And that’s before you ask about the leadership, the glove, and the way momentum in a high school game can turn on one defender making one play.

Coach Hoppel didn’t expect this, either. “I was excited when he came back out after being off for two seasons. I was concerned how his offense would come around after being off for that time, but he eliminated that concern pretty quickly. He was by far our most consistent hitter in the lineup.” Coaches will say “consistent” when they mean, “we didn’t know what we’d do without him.” Hoppel goes on: “Evan has always been a standout defensively. He had some plays this year that changed the momentum in our favor.”

What’s funny is, Strohecker himself never seems to make much of it. He says making second-team all-state “was pretty awesome… There are so many kids, and for me to make that team is special to me.”

The biggest class in Pennsylvania. The second team in the whole state. Some kids are in awe; some are in denial. Strohecker? “At first, I was skeptical about it, and then I got home and my dad told me. I was very happy and didn’t know how to react.” If that isn’t the most honest high school answer in America, the pollsters are lying.

Maybe that’s the magic. Maybe the trick is not thinking about all-state, or accolades, or the pressure of performing in the largest classification, but about enjoying the time you’ve got left in the game. This isn’t a senior looking for one last ride. Strohecker is a junior. He’s got another year to turn heads, pick off line drives, and see if he can do it all again. Most of the rest of us would be content with the comeback. He’s already thinking about what’s next.

Well, sort of. He says he “doesn’t have goals going forward other than trying to play baseball at the next level. I like to live in the present and not look too far ahead, but having a good season again this upcoming year would be nice.” That’s not false modesty. That’s a kid who knows the best part of the game is the next game.

The numbers–.450 average, .542 on-base, 27 hits, 20 runs, 14 steals–jump off the page. The rest is harder to track, but coaches notice. Teammates notice. “He is such a competitor. He never gives in at the plate and takes total control in the outfield. He will, without question, be looked upon as a player who will need to lead us if we expect to continue our recent team success,” Hoppel said.

So how does a guy sit out for two years and come back like he never left? Strohecker credits God. “I guess I have a God-given talent not too many people have. Coming back from not playing for a while and doing what I did felt good.” He’s right. This is a story about talent, sure. But more than that, it’s about fun. “Going into the season, I was planning on having fun and trying something other than basketball. I had lots of fun, and that was my main goal for the season.” How many kids say that and actually pull it off?

You could do worse than follow that blueprint. Skip the drama. Show up. Play hard. Smile when you run the bases. Be humble when you get the award. Enjoy the ride. Strohecker says he’s “looking forward to another season of baseball.” You get the feeling he means it. No plans for the next viral video, no scripted celebration, no flash. Just the game and a few more line drives.

For the rest of us, it’s a reminder. Not every all-state story comes with fireworks and five-star recruiting hype. Sometimes it’s the quiet, fast kid who played basketball for a while, then came back to baseball because he missed it. Sometimes, the biggest moments in high school sports sneak up on you when you least expect them. Sometimes, you’re lucky enough to notice.

Here’s hoping Strohecker gets another year of “just having fun.” Here’s hoping we all do. Because if you’re going to make second-team all-state in the biggest class in the state, you might as well do it with a grin and a glove, surrounded by teammates, coaches, and a town that still believes good things can happen when nobody’s looking.

And next spring, don’t be surprised if Evan Strohecker is there again–back in the outfield, chasing down fly balls, proving you don’t need to be famous to be special. You need to love the game and mean it.

It doesn’t hurt, of course, to have a little God-given talent mixed in–a gift you can’t teach, a knack you can’t fake. Strohecker’s got some of that, too. Sometimes the best stories are the ones where skill and joy show up at the same time, and the rest of us get to watch.