So What's Greg Maddux Doing Right At This Moment?

"I want to take a year off and spend time with the family, and do things that I have not been able to do because of baseball and see if I like it or not," Maddux said. "I'm going to miss it. Hopefully, I won't miss it too much."

This week has been the first week of Greg Maddux's professional life where he hasn't had a professional reason to get up in the morning.  And, in actuality, it's the first week in his adult life where he's been unemployed.  Sure, he went on strike in 1994, but he couldn't collect from Uncle Sam.  Now?  He's still a little young to collect social security, but he's too old to keep playing baseball.  He's a retired ballplayer.  A retirement that won't come out of beta until all the bugs are worked out.

So what's he doing, right now?  Do you think he's making a Facebook account and searching old high school friends?  Is he taking a nap, reading glasses (complete with strap) resting comfortably on his chest?  Is he eating without prejudice, allowing his belly to become pitching-coach big?  Maybe, right now, Greg Maddux is shopping at the mall with his wife.  She's in Macy's looking at undergarments and Greg's sitting outside the store on a bench, thinking about the nap that waiting for him when he gets home.

What he's not doing is following an off season throwing program.  Because the off season has begun for Greg, and it won't ever end.  Even if he goes into coaching of some sort, it won't ever be the same.  It's one thing to watch video of someone else throw.  It's another to sit in your video room, leather ball cradled perfectly in your palm, while critiquing video of yourself.  The only videos Greg will probably be watching over the next year are South Park.

If his life were (or was, unsure when to use were or was) a movie, there are two ways for this story to play out.  The first is of Greg making a comeback midway through the season.  The team needs someone, and the only someone in the world who can help is Greg Maddux.  He goes through a Rocky-like training regimine and ends up losing Game 7 of the World Series in the bottom of the 9th on a suicide squeeze.  That's the sports drama movie.

In the comedy, Greg mopes around all day for 6 months, unsure what to do with the rest of his life.  The kids are at school, the wife is shopping for bargains at Wal Mart, and it's just him looking at his Cy Young Awards, glancing at a cover story of him in Sports Illustrated, rummaging through boxes and finding the Speedo he wore during the 1995 World Series.  Then he gets a call from some crusty old guy, who we'll call Bobbie Cocks.  Bobbie needs a pitching coach.  Real bad.  Someone gave current pitching coach Roger McDowell a hot foot and Roger's out for the rest of the season.  "Greg, can you help me?"  Before he clears it with his wife, he's packing his Adidas bag for Atlanta. 

Greg's life is no movie.  He's done with the game and he's moving on.  I can tell you for a fact that, at this moment, he feels relief.  He feels relief the same way you felt it the day you graduated high school or college.  You're done with something, pretty burned out from it, and not really looking back.  You will later, when those days are really out of reach and the memories fade just enough to be mostly all good.  Today, he's not thinking about the past and probably not thinking too much about the future.  He's getting out of bed, choosing his breakfast cereal, and just living for the day.  No pressures from work.  Just trying to keep his Las Vegas desert lawn green and his kids healthy and safe.  He's not going anywhere that he can think of, unless they go north for vacation.  But why do that?  He'd have to pack.  He's been packing bags for 23 years.  Maybe it's time to throw them in the attic, with the awards and the Speedos, and just take a nap.

Sounds good to me.