Editor's Note: RebelGrove.com is publishing a series of letters that allow Ole Miss baseball fans to see some of the newcomers from the the No. 2 signing class nationally through the eyes of the selected players’ parents. For each entry, we conduct an interview and help a parent form a letter to his or her son, offering memories, accomplishments, advice and a look to the future.

Next up is Nancy Diamond writing to her son, Derek, who is in the running for a weekend rotation spot this season. Perfect Game ranked Diamond as highly as No. 19 nationally for his class.

Dear Derek,

It’s finally here. You’ve worked so hard and for so long and kept this as one of your goals, no matter what was thrown in front of you. You’ve had college baseball as a dream and now it’s a reality.

It seems like yesterday when you got that first offer, from UCLA, and you knew it was real. You put your head in a pillow and screamed as loud as you could because you were going to play college baseball and your dream would come true. My moment for that came soon after when we visited them and heard it for myself. I was bursting with pride and tears, but I knew you would be less than pleased with me if I had an emotional reaction in front of the coach, so it came once I was back in the car.

We thought, as you know, it was all figured out. You committed to Stanford and we bought all the gear. For more than a year, that was that. Then the call came. Despite a 4.0 GPA and good test scores, Stanford declined your admission. The baseball coaches, who I have nothing but respect for, fought for you, but it didn’t work out. You showed such maturity in those days, Derek, and I was so proud of you. You didn’t tell me for two days because you wanted to give me good news.

[Related: Diamond 'finds the spot for me' in Oxford]

You told me it would be Ok because your phone was ringing, and you’d find a school, an even better fit. You quarterbacked the day the call came, compartmentalizing the news and doing what you had to do for your teammates before worrying about yourself. Your sister still has those Stanford sweats she marked up, “Banford.” Not sure what that means, but you get the sentiment.

You had a spreadsheet to sort out who you wanted to call back and visit and told me it would come down to LSU or Ole Miss, and I’ll be honest I didn’t know much about the Rebels. You said to look up The Grove, and you were comfortable because it reminded you of our little hometown. Ole Miss assistant Carl Lafferty came to our home and within minutes I knew you wold be in the best place for you. He was gracious and kind and told me of the potential he knows you have. There was peace. You were headed to the right school.

It’s a little lonely around here with you in Mississippi and your sister, Devon, studying in Germany for a year. Your other sister, Lindsey, says hello, and I’ll see you in March at Texas A&M, but I’ll be watching every day until then. My first question for coach Lafferty was about games on television, and I’m told I can see pretty much all of them. I’ll be sitting in my red and blue and cheering you on, watching you live out the reward of your work.

I remember a lot these days. How at four years old you would sit at your sister’s breakfast table and make her frozen waffles for breakfast. Or at 16 years old how you handled pain and that setback when you slid into a base in Arizona and the incoming throw shattered your jaw. You were practicing football with a mouth wired shut a few weeks later.

All parents say it, but I knew you had something special at four years old. We’d go snowboarding at Big Bear, and you’d want to shred on the black diamond. You walked at 10 months old, and you just had that gift that gave you an opportunity if you worked for it. You’d get home from football practice or basketball and head to the batting cage in the backyard, loading up the pitching machine and hitting a bucket or two to close your evening. We talked about playing just one sport, but you were right that football kept you in shape during the offseason. Around here the healthy things to do are either sports or ride horses. And I love that you appreciate so many activities from music and playing the drums and harmonica to golf and even yoga that you have embraced and share with me. Your first word was “ball.” Did you know that?

I appreciate all your texts and calls when they come. It’s a joy to be able to send you pictures and articles and just reminders of home, like this week when I came upon that picture of you getting the autograph from Adrian Gonzalez when you were a young boy.

I encourage you to stay on track. I have peace that you are where you are supposed to be, and honestly, Derek, I take advice from you. You’ve taught me so much, and I try to channel you in stressful situations. Set a new dream and achieve it, and I’ll be here cheering you on. You get me through.

You make our small town and your family proud. Grandpa Frank shed tears the day you played in the Under Armor All-American Game at Wrigley Field, that his grandson was on that dirt and that diamond. And more tears will likely come soon, the good kid, happy kind, as you take your next step.

In close, I’m thankful for the man you’ve become. You never wanted a video game console growing up, choosing to play outside and be active. It wasn’t forced on you; it’s just who you are. And all that led you here. You’re in great hands in Oxford, and I can’t wait to see what the future has in store for you.

See you next month. Go Rebels!

Love,

Mom