Relapses

Baseball (and life, for that matter) is hard enough without a monkey on your back.

Josh Hamilton is a polarizing figure, but he was one of the most exciting baseball players I’ve ever seen.

This is probably the hardest thing I’ve ever had to write. And I’m not sure I have to write it. At least not for anyone else, but I think I might have to for myself. I’ve written about it indirectly in fiction many times, but I’ve never come right out and talked about it directly with a capital I. Okay, here goes.

You may or may not have picked up on the fact I have a soft spot for players who’ve struggled with substance abuse. As a Royals fan, Willie Wilson’s drug history, rather than repelling me, has endeared him to me all the more. He was always one of my favorite players, but at this point in my life, he might be my favorite player ever.

Josh Hamilton is another good example. Maybe the best example. I don’t care much about the Rangers or Angels or any of the other teams Hamilton played for, but I’ve always followed his career closely. He was the number one overall pick by the Rays in the 1999 draft, but before he could even really get started, he was getting suspended left and right for failing drug tests and off-the-field incidents.

After basically three years out of baseball, he ended up with the Reds and showed the talent was still there in 90 games during the 2007 season. The Rangers traded for him that offseason, and a clean and sober Hamilton’s star ascended.

2008 was his breakout season. He was elected to his first All-Star Game and put on a dazzling show in the Home Run Derby at old Yankee Stadium. If that was the peak of his accomplishments, it would have been a worthy achievement. His performance in the Derby captured the attention of the sports world and beyond in a way baseball rarely has in the twenty-first century. But Hamilton was just getting started.

The path ahead would not be straightforward, however. Injuries hampered him in 2009, and despite making another All-Star Game, he suffered a relapse that season. That’s usually how addiction goes for people with serious drug habits. Whether the world is kicking your ass or you’re a star athlete, the relapse rate is nearly one hundred percent, and most addicts never get clean for good. Beating addiction is hard.

I know this for a fact, because I was a drug addict for nearly a decade. This comes as a shock to most people who didn’t know me back then, and even to quite a few who did. I did a pretty good job of hiding it, at least until I didn’t. Getting busted with pain pills and ending up on the front page of your small-town paper has a way of airing your dirty laundry to the world. But even when I was getting away with it, it was derailing my life.

I don’t have some traumatic sob story to explain why I started using. It was more out of boredom than anything else, and here’s a fact, opiates make you feel really good. Again, until they don’t. People who’ve never done drugs see movies with depictions of misery and suffering and they wonder how anyone can do that to themselves, but that’s not how it starts. They start off feeling spectacular and it’s not like you’re addicted after your first hit, so you think you have it under control. And you keep right on thinking that until you realize you’re not in control anymore.

I always laugh when non-addicts suggest addicts just need to exert a little willpower. Willpower is nothing in the face of dope sickness. I did so many things I regret, I hurt the people I care about most, lost my best friends (some permanently to overdoses), short-changed my kids as a father, and ruined my first marriage. Does anyone out there seriously think that’s what I wanted? I tried to quit a thousand times, but when withdrawal hits, it’s unlike any kind of misery I’ve ever experienced. And even when I managed to stay clean for a little while, getting high was all I thought about.

So I know a little about what Hamilton was going through. No two drug addicts are quite the same, but since his redemption tour was taking place as I was fighting my own battles, I looked to him for inspiration.

In 2010, Hamilton got past his relapse and put together the best season of his career, winning the AL MVP. The Rangers went to the World Series, but came up short against the Giants. The following season, Hamilton led them back to the World Series, only to lose again in heartbreaking fashion to the Cardinals, through no fault of Hamilton’s.

The 2012 season saw another minor relapse, followed by another All-Star performance from Hamilton. He left for the Angels in 2013, signing a huge free agent deal. Unfortunately, Anaheim is where big money free agents go to fail (see Albert Pujols and Anthony Rendon), and after several injury plagued seasons, he returned to Texas for one last hurrah.

His post-playing career has been no smoother than his MLB days. He relapsed and was convicted of unlawful restraint in an incident where he hit his daughter. I can’t defend that, but he seems to be keeping his nose clean since that altercation. I continue to root for him, understanding that we’re all a work-in-progress.

I’m living proof of that. I’ve now been clean longer than I was an addict, and I’ve turned my life around. I went back to school and got my degree, and I’m a mild-mannered librarian by day, which would have been unthinkable fifteen years ago. I got remarried, and while I’m far from perfect, I think I’m a pretty solid husband and father these days.

Actually, writing this has been easier than I expected. Publishing it, on the other hand, might be the bigger challenge. It’s a weird thing to tell people you basically lived in the movie Trainspotting for about a decade. Even the people who only know the reformed you and never would have suspected anything look at you different, and then that’s all they can see. It’s not that they take pleasure in your failures, but they just can’t see past the drama surrounding them to the person you are today.

Hamilton is a good example of that. I bristle when I hear fans call him the biggest waste of talent in MLB history. Nothing could be further from the truth. Did he cost himself? Obviously. Was he less than what he could have been if he’d never taken a drink or gotten high? Without a doubt. But a bust? C’mon. He was an MVP and the leader of two AL Championship teams. I’ll put his peak from 2008-2012 up against pretty much anyone.

I feel the same way about myself. Did I waste a decade of my life? Partially. But it wasn’t all detox and misery or a buzzed blur. I had some pretty good times mixed in there, and for better or worse, it made me the man I am today. Sure, sometimes I think about where I might be if I hadn’t gone off the rails for so long and all the opportunities I missed out on, but I’m in pretty damn good place now, and I’d be very hesitant to change any of it, even the really awful parts, if it put what I have now at risk.

I’d love to talk to Hamilton someday and find out if he feels the same, though if he’s anything like me, he’s probably tired of talking about drugs. When they’re such a big part of your life for so long, you get bored with the subject and you want to move past them. You don’t want to be defined by them, but they have a way of sticking around on the fringes, always posing a threat. If nothing else, Hamilton’s career is a good reminder that no matter how well things are going, you can always fall down again. So keep your guard up.

Perhaps the great Satchel Paige said it best, though I don’t think he was talking specifically about drugs. He might as well have been though, because it fits.

“Don’t look back. Something might be gaining on you.”

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If you’re reading this, it means I didn’t chicken out and pressed the publish button. I hope this admission from my past doesn’t change how you look at me. Powder Blue Nostalgia has been even more personal than usual lately, but the feedback has generally been very positive, and I hope it hasn’t taken anything away from your enjoyment. Of course, PBN has always been a very personal project for me, and that isn’t going to change, but I’ll lighten the mood a bit next week. After all, as I’ve stated many times in this newsletter, baseball is supposed to be fun. Thanks for reading.