Jessica Mendoza’s rapid ascension from the first female analyst on an ESPN MLB broadcast to  permanent Sunday Night Baseball analyst in less than a year is remarkable, but it’s left her under a microscope. In a media world where analyst positions are dominated by men who played in the professional league in question, Mendoza is still a relative rarity despite her experience as a two-time U.S. Olympian in softball. She knows people will be watching her closely, though, and she told Barry Svrluga of The Washington Post that she’s embracing that pressure:

“I realize that anything out of my mouth, people are going to listen a little more,” Mendoza said. “Instead of just, ‘Oh there’s a game on, and it’s background noise,’ it’s, ‘There’s a female talking; I’m really going to analyze what she has to say, every word she says.’

“Is that true? I don’t know. But I come into it with that mind-set. Whether it’s pressure or not, I just want to make sure I do it right.”

This offseason, she went to pitching school to learn more about grips and breaks. She attended the winter meetings, went to a scouts’ dinner, asked and absorbed. She enters the season more confident in her ability, but aware of the reality: She’s being watched.

“I know people are going to hear my voice and know it’s different,” Mendoza said. “Even though it’s 2016 and we want to believe it’s not that way, it is. Each game last year carried a ton of pressure that I would put on myself.

“But what’s helped is once the game began, it was just baseball, and not a female broadcasting baseball. I was like, ‘I can do this.’ I just honed in on it, and all the other stuff went away.”

What’s interesting is that this reaction to pressure is rather different than the one Mendoza exhibited as a player. She told Svrluga insecurity was a big challenge during her playing career, but she’s now using it for fuel:

This perfectionist mentality was instilled in her youth. When she was a teenager, her dad insisted on a weight-lifting regimen before dinner. “We called it a military workout,” she said. Romanian deadlifts were required. “I thought everyone did that.”

Preparation, though, didn’t necessarily breed confidence. When she graduated, she thought she would move to Washington and get involved in education reform, not win a gold medal for the U.S. team in the 2004 Olympics, a silver four years later.

“I look back on how insecure I was in my ability at that age,” Mendoza said. “I was so nervous being on that field. ‘Do I even belong at this tryout?’ Then I spent the first two or three years on the national team literally wondering when it might be over, like this is all a big joke.”

Never mind that she was hitting third for the national team. When she would go 3 for 4 with two homers and a double, she would fixate on the fourth at-bat. That’s how one of the best hitters in the world ended up in a bathroom in the Dominican Republic, in the midst of the 2003 Pan-Am Games, sobbing and crippled to the point that she couldn’t perform.

“Insecurity has pushed me to be better,” she said. “It stays with me now.”

Now, though, it manifests itself differently: “Do I belong in this booth? Am I good enough to be here?”

Many reviewers, including AA’s Dan Levy and fellow ESPN analyst Aaron Boone, have concluded that Mendoza definitely is good enough to be there. In a world where sports radio hosts continue to say “There’s no place for a woman in professional sports,” though, she’ll always have to face some trolls. Mendoza’s professionalism and perfectionism should serve her well, though, and if she can really use criticism for fuel, she may rocket to the top indeed.

About Andrew Bucholtz

Andrew Bucholtz has been covering sports media for Awful Announcing since 2012. He is also a staff writer for The Comeback. His previous work includes time at Yahoo! Sports Canada and Black Press.

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