I can't think of a single negative thing that has happened in my life that baseball couldn't help me get through. And believe me, in the three decades since the game became a part of me, it has had its work cut out for it. I'm a master of making my own messes, then doubling down on the misery, beating myself up for every misstep, and eventually becoming so buried under my sense of hopelessness that I don't have the first clue where to begin the necessary cleanup. But no matter what, regardless of my fiasco du jour, I have always been able to rely on being pulled back from the brink by two or three hours of balls and strikes, hits and outs.
A life salvaged by baseball - Chapter One: 1988-1994
