Fearing Jim Leyritz

One evening last December, former Yankees/Red Sox/Padres/Rangers/Dodgers catcher/DH/first baseman Jim Leyritz was driving against a red light when his car crashed into another, killing its driver.  Jim was charged with manslaughter and driving under the influence of alcohol.  It's alleged that the victim, 30-year-old Fredia Ann Veitch, was also inebriated.

There's a great article about this in the NY Times I recommend you read.  I'm not going to re-hash the whole thing.  There's no need to duplicate what was written so well.  The issue here is that, if you follow Jim's life since his career ended 8 years ago, you'll see an example of why I and other baseball players fear retirement.

- Jim and his wife, Karri, divorced only a few years after his final season (2000).  (Karri Leyritz said the breakup coincided with his exit from professional baseball and was a difficult period for both of them. “We were both just going through a terrible time,” she said. - NY Times)

- Jim and Karri had a nasty custody dispute, with Jim winning primary residential parental duties.

- Their fortune of over $11 million from Jim's playing days is gone.

- After a night of drinking with friends, on December 27, 2007, Jim ran a red light and killed a woman.

- This 3-time World Series winner with the Yankees has been shunned by the team.

The last part here is the sorriest, because it appears Jim was getting his life back in order.  He was appearing at speaking engagements, at least 50 last year for up to $7500 per appearance, and was an ESPN reporter.  Things were coming together.

Before falling apart.

Now he awaits his trial.

THE FEAR

I mentioned the fear ballplayers hide inside themselves.  While Jim's story is a worst-case scenario, do you think Jim ever thought he would be the one to go through it?  None of us do.  We're baseball players.  We get special treatment, from high school until our playing days are over.  And if we were really good in our day, the world picks up our Special Treatment option for an indefinite period that only ends if we say something really stupid, do something really stupid, or kill someone.

Remember O.J. Simpson anyone?  Denny McLain?

The fear is this: Eventually, becoming a real person is going to catch up with us.  The game goes away, along with our skills.  Those fortunate enough to stay in the game in a front office capacity, say as a GM, lose luster because GMs make mistakes; often big ones.  For those who get to become broadcasters, in almost every case, our flaws become too real.  Some of us, believe it or not, aren't that bright.  We're good looking or can hit the ball farther than you, but the light switch isn't always in the On position.  The shine of being a Major League Baseball player only lasts so long.

J.R. RICHARD

Take the case of J.R. Richard.  Remember him?  J.R. was a great pitcher for Houston in the 70s.   Then, warming up before a game in July, 1980, he suffered a massive stroke.  Over the following few years, he tried to come back but couldn't.  When he was done with the game, this happened (according to Wikipedia):

"After his professional baseball career ended, Richard returned to Louisiana and invested in some business ventures. He fell prey to an oil business scam, losing over US$300,000 in the deal.^[77] A few years later, Richard paid US$669,000 in a divorce settlement to his ex-wife, Carolyn. He married and divorced again, losing his suburban Houston home and most of his money.^[68] In 1989, Richard was drafted into the Senior Professional Baseball Association and played for the Orlando Juice but was cut from the team in pre-season play.^[82] In the winter of 1994, Richard was homeless and destitute and lived under a bridge in Houston.^["

Listen, lots of guys have happy endings.  Cal Ripken Jr. & his brother Billy and Nolan Ryan are two who immediately come to mind.  And lots of guys kind of meander through, waiting to find their "thing" in life after baseball.  I had a great conversation with Ed Sprague (Jr.) recently, which I'll upload in a couple of weeks.  Ed made some very interesting points about how to plan for the end of a career, the main one being that ballplayers need to be ready for the end, and not just financially.  Your head has to be prepared as well.

As for Jim Leyritz, I feel badly for him.  He never meant to kill that poor woman last December, leaving her two children without their mother.  He never meant for his life to fall completely apart.  Heck, I flew in the same plane with him to San Francisco last year for the All-Star game.  Interestingly, Jim was not in first class.  He flew coach.  His big, bald, athletic head couldn't be missed.  His raspy, upbeat voice floated throughout the cabin.  And on his fingers?  World Series rings.  You don't think half the people on the plane didn't stop him and ask to look at those rings?  He was a busy man that flight.  And probably happy too.  Because for just a few hours, Jim wasn't a retired, broke, single-parent failure.  He was Jim Leyritz again, baseball star.  And that's all any of us ever really wanted in the first place.