I knew it was time to wrap up my baseball career, but I really didn’t have a plan for what was going to come next. When I was growing up in Summit, I always thought I was going to college, study business, carry a briefcase and wear a tie. Those were the people with pretty big houses in Summit, so I wanted to do what they were doing.
When I chose baseball, that became my life. And it was a good life, but I wasn’t really prepared for anything else. That’s something people don’t realize about guys who come straight out of high school and begin playing pro baseball, they aren’t prepared for anything else because all they’ve done all their life is play baseball. You don’t have a degree or any of those things that people want.
The other thing that was really different was that you had to learn how to do everyday things for yourself. People have been telling you what to do since you were in high school, so things as simple as going through an airport and doing your luggage is new. You never had to do that. Somebody always had your luggage. Going into a hotel and checking in was new. You never had to do that. You just popped off the bus and somebody gave you a key to your room. Those are little things. But they’re little things in every facet of your life, and they eventually add up to big things.
I was in a funk. Every day I felt lost because I was living here in Kansas City, but I wasn’t a Royal anymore. That’s where I made my name. At the time, I think I still had a bad rap in their brain. I wasn’t involved in anything at the stadium – and I might not have been ready for it right then. I just felt lost. I was used to going somewhere every day at 4 or 5:00 and was used to playing.
I still watched games. I still kept up with my friends. But it seemed like every time I watched TV a little bit that would just get me down a little more. So I stopped watching. It’s kind of like you dropped off the map. It’s like, “Thank you, now goodbye. We’re not going to help you, not going to do anything. You’re on your own.”
I got released in May. Then I had June and July before they went on strike. I was just sitting around for a month or so and not doing anything, my family didn’t know if I was depressed or what. I played a little golf, but I wasn’t really into golf at the time like I am now. I was like a fish out of water. I didn’t know what to do. I didn’t know where to go. I didn’t have a job. I didn’t know how to go about getting a job.
I was in a pretty good place financially, but when you feel bad it doesn’t matter how much money you have, you just feel bad. I found out later that when you don’t have money and you feel bad, it’s worse. But when you’re lost, you’re lost and how much money I had at the time wasn’t a solution to any of the things I was feeling.
The only guy who really reached out was one of my former teammates from the A’s, Dave Stewart. And that happened in 1994 when he was with Toronto. Stew just showed up one day, out of the blue. I was really depressed at the time. My wife knew they were in town and called him. He came over after a game – he called me “Bean,” too. He says, “C’mon Bean! Let’s go out (imitating Stewart’s high-pitched voice).” I said I didn’t want to go out anywhere, but he says, “Get your ass up, and let’s go.”
I think he took me down to Crown Center where some of the Blue Jays were staying, so we hung out there for a while. I talked to a few guys, hung out and pretended to feel better. So, he kind of got me out of my funk for a little bit, but it didn’t really work.
The next spring, when it was time for spring training I went down to Arizona with my buddy Chet, Chester Shipps. We would play golf and do all kinds of stuff together. He was my best friend in Kansas City at the time. He still is a good friend. I think Chet is about 15 years older than I am. He was always kind of a mentor to me and the kind of guy who gave me some good advice.
We were in Arizona about the time that the strike was over in the spring of 1995. So, I said to Chet, “Let’s go over to Phoenix and check out some of the boys with the A’s and say hello before we go play golf. So, we get there, and Tony (LaRussa) sees me and calls me down to the sideline.
I didn’t go on the field, just down to the first row on the right side of the field. He goes, “You still want to play?” I go, “Oh, wow. That wasn’t a question I was expecting.”
I thought about it for about 30 seconds then said, “Nah, that’s OK, man.” I had gotten used to not having to travel all the time. I was used to my time being my time and being around the kids. I was getting used to being away from the game.
And you know the first thing I thought of when he asked me that? I thought about getting yelled at. I just got a little knot in my stomach. Then Rickey (Henderson) comes over – he called me, Will Dog. He says, “Will Dog. Come on. You want to play? I’ll play against lefties and you can play against righties.”
Well, there are a lot more righties in the league than there are lefties and that means I would be playing. So, I say thanks, but no thanks. You guys have a great season. And then we went and played golf.
That was it. I think about it now and in hindsight sometimes wonder if maybe I should have gone back and played that one year for Tony.
I’m telling you, man. I was floundering for most of that year and the next two years before I got involved in a business that I thought would work.