Baseball had been my life. Now cocaine was. What consumed me every day was getting high. I tried to quit using—sometimes I’d even stay clean for a few months—but nothing got through to me enough to stick. Not the seven treatment centers I went to after Betty Ford. Not the one-year suspension for violating major-league-baseball’s drug policy yet again in March 2004. Not my parents or their anger, sadness and heartbreak. Not even my grandmother. I tried praying, but that didn’t help either.
Bag of Randomness for Thursday, May 2, 2024
3 days ago
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