When Chase Walter stepped on campus five years ago, the 6-foot-4-inch submarine-style pitcher from Laguna Niguel, Calif., had a different vision of how his college athletic career would play out.

A Cal Poly Baseball commit, he envisioned four years of college ball with the hopes of playing professionally. His only experience with track and field was in his senior year when his club baseball team didn’t allow him to play for his high school. 

His first two years at Cal Poly were spent entirely at Baggett Stadium. Day after day, pitch after pitch, he put in the work. But despite a promising arm with good velocity and movement, something didn’t click.

“I just was never very good,” Walter admitted. “I never was consistent enough pitching-wise to be a guy they could always go to. And I knew that.”

After a difficult freshman and sophomore season, Walter came to a painful realization. The sport that once lit a fire in him, one he had devoted his entire childhood to, was starting to feel like a stranger. He was falling out of love with the only thing he’d ever known.

At the end of that season, he sat down with his coaches during his exit meeting and said something out loud he never could have imagined. He was quitting baseball.

“I started to get burnt out,” he said. “I asked myself, ‘Why am I still doing this? I’m not having fun anymore.”

Walter first earned a spot on the team competing at javelin and sprints. Credit: Courtesy / Cal Poly Athletics

Still, the competitive spirit was alive in him. He wanted to compete in college, just not on the diamond. Having self-confidence from his high school track showing, he decided to take a chance.

That fall of 2022, with a brand new track coaching staff in place, Walter sent out introductory emails. That led him to Mohammad Nourani, the sprints coach.

Nourani had heard it all before.

“I’ve heard that story hundreds of times,” Nourani said. “Athletes that didn’t make it in other sports think they can just come over and be good. But for some reason, I looked into him.”

Walter’s high school times caught Nourani’s eye. He offered him a two-week tryout. 

“He definitely looked not like a runner,” Nourani said, laughing. “Despite that, he was keeping up with all those guys who ran track for years and years. And he was just as fast as them, even looking really sloppy.”

Walter earned a spot on the track team, competing in both sprints and javelin.

That first year on the track team was a test of humility and resilience for Walter. He had to learn how to sprint and how to use his body in an entirely new way. He suffered a lenghty hamstring injury. And yet, he didn’t back away.

“He always knew he’d make the comeback,” said Chris Baytosh, Walter’s roommate for four years and former baseball teammate. “He’s the most driven person I’ve ever met. Once he made the switch, nothing was going to stop him.”

By the end of the 2022-2023 season, Walter had become the go-to 400-meter runner. That’s when Nourani gave him the words he never forgot.

“This first year, you’ll be good.”

“Next year, you’ll be better.”

“If you come back for a fifth, you’ll be really good.”

In 2025, Walter opened his fifth-year and third outdoor season with a time nearly a second faster than last year, which was already two seconds quicker than the year before. He broke the school’s indoor 600-meter record and earned a top-ten time in the 800 meters.

“Eventually, everyone plateaus, and it just hasn’t happened for him,” Nourani said. “I don’t even know where this kid can go anymore.”

Walter’s growth had less to do with physical ability and everything to do with his mentality.

Walter became a better and faster runner through the sprints coach, Mohammad Nourani. Credit: Courtesy / Cal Poly Athletics

“He came in absolutely willing to do whatever it took,” Nourani said. “Which I didn’t expect from a baseball player.”

The shift from pitcher to sprinter caught his coaches and teammates by surprise. Somewhere along the way, Walter fell in love with the simplicity of the sport.

“Track is just so much more rewarding because you can see the progression,” he said. “In baseball, a great bullpen means nothing in the game. On the track, you run as hard as you can. You can’t really fail.”

Walter didn’t completely leave baseball behind. The mindset shaped by years in the game, influenced by coaches and teammates holding each other accountable, stayed with him. The small habits — arriving early, racking weights, dressing up — instilled a sense of professionalism that he carries to the track.

“I don’t elect team captains, but if I did, it would be him,” Nourani said. “He leads by example, works the hardest, encourages others to be on time and do the right things off the track. During warmups, everyone goes when Chase goes. It’s that kind of deal.”

Walter is a natural leader on the team. In a sport that can often be about personal records and individual finishes, he stands with his team-first mentality — another value he brings from baseball.

“You show up early, you grind all day, just because you have something bigger than yourself that you’re going for,” his former roommate Baytosh said, thinking back to their baseball days.

Walter’s name now echoes across the track and through the leaderboards, but he didn’t run for recognition. He found something in track that baseball couldn’t give him anymore — a reason to keep pushing, to keep showing up better than he was the day before. And he still has yet to reach his peak.