Josh Hamilton with his wife, Katie
photo: Gregory Georges

BACK IN THE SWING OF THINGS
With faith and family as priorities, Josh Hamilton is fulfilling his promise as a major-league baseball star


by Kurt Dusterberg

Josh Hamilton's life has all the makings of a Hollywood blockbuster.

For the guys, it's a sports film. Hamilton is a real-life, can't-miss baseball star. For the women, it's a chick flick. Josh's wife, Katie, has stood by her husband through thick and thin. If ever a date-night movie could please the masses, this would be the one. All that's left is the happy ending.

Josh is working on it.

The back story on Hamilton is a complex one. When he was selected first overall in Major League Baseball's draft in 1999, many scouts believed the Athens Drive High School star was the best high-school player in the country — ever. After two promising seasons in the minors, Hamilton and his parents were seriously injured in a car accident during spring training.

With nothing but rehab to fill his hours, he began dabbling in drugs. Hamilton missed almost four full baseball seasons as he descended into the darkness of dependency, squandering his career within the Tampa Bay Devil Rays organization. The baseball world watched in disbelief as he transformed from a squeaky-clean prodigy to a tragic figure who passed through eight rehab clinics.

But the skies have cleared in Hamilton's world. As the spring of 2007 approached, he had been clean for 18 months. When his two-year suspension from baseball was lifted, the Cincinnati Reds took a flier on his once-remarkable skill set, hoping he might fulfill his potential.

Did he ever.

Despite missing almost four seasons and never playing above the low minor leagues, he conquered the majors with breathtaking skill. Even with three lengthy stints on the disabled list, he bashed 19 home runs and hit an impressive .292 as the Reds center fielder.

“It's a unique experience,” says Hamilton, whose family lives in Apex. “The stadiums you play in, the hotels, the atmosphere around the game changes. But the game of baseball stays the same.”

More changes are ahead in 2008. The Reds traded Hamilton to the Texas Rangers one week before Christmas. With a surplus of outfielders, the Reds offered Hamilton in exchange for much-needed pitching. Almost a dozen teams made offers.

His return to baseball gave him another reason to stay clean, but he already had plenty of incentive. Katie had been there during the worst of times, holding the family together. Josh and Katie had known each other at Athens Drive, but they did not begin dating until three years after high school. A short time later, they married and had a daughter, Sierra, which made for a busy household along with Katie's first daughter, Julia. When the drug problems began a short time later, Katie turned to her faith for strength. At the same time, Josh found the inspiration to turn his life around: His family.

“It just made me realize that I was not living for myself anymore,” he says. “That helped get things rolling.”

Getting back on track
It is a mild December day, and Katie hustles through the door of her parents' home. She is lugging dry cleaning for Josh and clothes for the girls, getting ready for a family photo shoot. She hands off a few coat hangers for Josh and heads off to get the girls ready. It is clear that Katie is in charge of the family's appointments, which seems to suit Josh just fine as he picks through his wardrobe choices. As she leaves the room, he flashes his up-to-something smile, an expression he wears easily and often.

Katie is a noticeable counterpoint to her husband. While Josh is laid back and ready to slip a laugh into the conversation, Katie seems most comfortable in busy mode, like many moms who look after a 7-year-old and 3-year-old. She is warm and straightforward, and perfectly at ease discussing both good times and bad. And these days are good, even though it will mean shuttling the girls between the Triangle and Texas by herself.

“I was just so happy that he was playing that it didn't even faze me,” she says. “If he can play and stay healthy and love the Lord, then I can handle this. God wouldn't have put me in this position if he wasn't going to give me the strength to do it.”

In turn, Josh was able to concentrate on baseball. But there was no guarantee that he could resurrect his career. He had missed four years and put his body through plenty of punishment, once losing 20 pounds during a four-day cocaine binge. Baseball executives thought he would be overmatched in the majors, where the Reds were required to keep him after selecting him from Tampa Bay's roster.

“To be honest, I really didn't know what to expect,” Hamilton admits.

Then came Opening Day in Cincinnati, a proud baseball town with a history of loving its long-shot players. During introductions, he received a standing ovation. When Hamilton entered the game as a pinch hitter, the crowd erupted again.

“It was awesome,” he says. “Never in my wildest dreams did I expect that. I got a standing ovation. I was just grinning from ear to ear.”

Soon, he had the support of his colleagues. When he reached base, infielders would congratulate him and welcome him to the big leagues. Houston Astros star Craig Biggio gave Hamilton his cellphone number, telling him to call if he ever needed anything. By the end of the first month, Hamilton was batting .365 with six home runs.

The safety net
Hamilton's first shot at the major leagues got off to a fast start, but he knew he would face greater challenges than split-fingered fastballs. To help his recovery, the Reds hired minor-league instructor Johnny Narron — or “the back-up plan,” as Josh refers to him. Narron, the brother of Reds manager Jerry Narron, had coached Hamilton in summer baseball in high school. When the Reds were on road trips, the two followed specific routines designed to ward off trouble.

“I had Johnny hold my meal money for me,” Hamilton says. “It's not that I couldn't handle it, but why put the temptation there, having $1,000 in my pocket?”

His teammates, like everyone in baseball, knew Hamilton's story before he arrived at spring training. Some players were curious, quizzing him on how he realized he had hit rock bottom. Others asked Hamilton to speak to a friend or family member who struggled with similar demons. But there also were moments of discontent among Reds players. He heard whispers from some teammates who felt Johnny Narron's presence was unfair.

“One night, I felt like I was going to pass out in the dugout,” Hamilton remembers. “My blood sugar was low, so Johnny went and got me a banana. Some players didn't like that. They felt I was getting special treatment.”

Right away, you realize that he is telling the story more out of amusement than frustration. He shakes his head and lets out a chuckle.

“A guy's making millions of dollars, and he's going to whine about a banana? I wanted to slap him.”

Now that he's suiting up for Texas, Hamilton will need to find a new security blanket. No problem, he says: “I'll have someone else hold my meal money this year.”

For Katie's part, there is less anxiety with each passing day. Last season, she went to almost every home game, filled with worry on so many levels.

“I just felt like there were so many eyes on him,” she says. “I felt like he had to prove that he belonged there after being out for so long. I was always praying that he did well, that he stayed healthy. I hope it subsides a little bit, because I'm really surprised I didn't get an ulcer this year.

A hometown hero
As Josh and Katie both know, there is more at stake than a baseball career. The family's well-being is resting squarely on Josh's broad shoulders. Katie has held the family together through times she would rather forget. But those days are looking further in the past each day.

Last winter, Raleigh, Cary and Garner declared a Josh Hamilton Day, a whirlwind of celebrations capped off with an autograph appearance at a Carolina Hurricanes hockey game. To his surprise, the line stretched as far as he could see.

“It's been wonderful, but it's been extra special because of how far God has brought him,” Katie says. “It makes the celebration that much more exciting. We're not taking it for granted. Not for a second.”

At 26 and with one big-league season under his belt, Hamilton is poised to become one of baseball's elite players. The off-season trade inquiries were a good indicator of his major-league potential. Hamilton knows this, but the most he'll say is this: “I still don't know what I can do in the big leagues.”

If he reaches the upper echelon of baseball stars, the family soon will reap an enormous financial reward. But the good life is all relative to the Hamiltons. Josh credits his faith for his return to baseball, along with the blessings of his family and many other positives in his life. Press him for an explanation for any of his good fortune, and he is fond of saying, “It's a God thing.”

Rounding third, heading for home
Katie finally has a moment to relax at the end of the photo shoot. Julia has gone outside with a playmate, while Sierra is busy with her grandmother. Katie already is thinking about another baseball season, with hopes of a less hectic daily routine. After a year of home schooling, Julia is enrolled in a traditional school in Wake County this year. And with less pressure on Josh to prove himself, Katie would like to bring her stress level down a notch at the ballpark. As for a contract that would provide for the family's future, she's seen enough to keep her wishes simple.

“It's nice if you get to that point, but you have to get there,” she says. “Who doesn't want to be able to pay their bills? But you can have all the money in the world, and it can't make you happy. What we would really like is to be able to fund our ministry, which is really important to us.”

Movie magic
It simply might be a matter of time before the Hamiltons' story comes to a theater near you. A book already is in the works this year. With themes such as love, family devotion, life-threatening struggles, redemption and selflessness, they have all the Hollywood bases covered.

But Josh knows he has to deliver the final chapter of the screenplay himself. He alone can write the feel-good ending. He is plenty confident about the baseball part, but he's humble enough to admit to his personal weakness.

“My mind still goes that way sometimes,” says Hamilton, referring to drug use. “And it's going to for a while. But I have such a good support system in place. Praying helps, and speaking to the media helps me a lot because I don't want to be a hypocrite.

“If people want to talk about me, I want to give them positive things to say,” he adds. “And I'm going to let them know what brought me back from where I was last time. That's my faith. Before it was baseball, and that's it. Now I tell my story and spread the word.”

No matter how many times he shares the story, Hamilton delivers it slowly and carefully. The answers aren't easy, and the story isn't finished. But after pausing for a beat, he explains his progress in a simple thought.

“It's so much better now.” WL

Kurt Dusterberg, a freelance writer based in Apex, has written “Journeymen: 24 Bittersweet Tales of Short Major League Sports Careers.”

Please visit our reader blog to post your comments on this story.

 

 
Copyright 2008 Weiss & Hughes Publishing, Inc. All rights reserved.
Copyright/Web Site Use Agreement
and legal Notices
  Maximize your advertising dollar with the targeted marketing of Wake Living Magazine. For advertising information, call (919) 870-1722  
Weiss & Hughes Publishing, Inc.
189 Wind Chime Ct., Suite 104, Raleigh, N.C. 27615
(919) 870-1722    (919) 719-5260 (fax)