My Name is Chris Sparber When I was in high school, all I wanted was a shot to play high-level college baseball. I trained every day and worked harder than anyone I knew, but no matter how much effort I put in, I had no idea how to actually get recruited. I didn’t have connections. I didn’t have a recruiting coordinator. And I didn’t have money. My mom worked two jobs just to keep me on the field. Travel ball, camps, gear — it all adds up.

And she never once complained. She just believed in me, and I did everything I could to make it count.

I went to over 20 college-specific camps. Coaches told me they’d “stay in touch,” but the phone never rang. I sent hundreds of emails and cold-called programs just hoping someone would give me a shot. I thought maybe I just wasn’t good enough. Then one day, someone — someone who barely knew me — stepped up and advocated for me.

They made a call to Louisburg College, a JUCO in North Carolina. That call changed my life. Louisburg believed in me and gave me a chance.

My freshman year, I hit .455 with 12 home runs and 15 doubles and was named Conference Player of the Year. For the first time, D1 schools were interested. But I still didn’t know how to talk to coaches or navigate the recruiting process. I went back for year two, got hot again, and because of another personal recommendation, I got an offer from Virginia Tech. That season, I hit .444 with 14 home runs, won Conference Player of the Year again, had multiple MLB workouts, and was offered to be drafted in the 10th round of the MLB Draft.

I turned it down to pursue my dream of playing Power 5 baseball. My first weekend at Virginia Tech, I got hit in the face with a fastball. I’ve never told anyone this — not even my family — but that one pitch damaged my left eye. As a right-handed hitter, I’ve played the rest of my career with blurred vision in my front eye. I never used it as an excuse. I just kept grinding. After that season, I transferred to Rollins and played two more years. In my final push to play pro ball, I broke my rib on a swing. And just like that, my playing career was over.

But here's the truth: none of it would’ve happened without that one person who believed in me. Without that first call to Louisburg, I never would’ve played college baseball. I never would’ve had a chance to get drafted. I never would’ve made it this far. That’s why I created SparberU — to be that person for the next kid who needs someone to believe in them. For the kid who’s working every day but doesn’t know how to get seen. For the family doing everything they can, but who just needs a clear path.

When I started SparberU, I had no business background. I barely knew how to use a computer. I taught myself everything on YouTube — how to build a website, send emails, create systems, edit film. I gave lessons during the day and drove Uber every night — July 4th, Thanksgiving Eve, New Year’s — just to keep the business alive. It took time. It was hard. But eventually, I signed my first client. Then five. Then 55.

And I realized something: there’s no better feeling than helping a kid who reminds me of myself — and being the reason they get their shot. That’s why I wake up fired up every single day. That’s why SparberU exists.