Doc Revisited

I feel like a jackass, I really do. Not that it’s totally uncharted territory for me or anything, but the circumstances are at least new for me. I’ve really dug Facebook, it’s been a great way to keep in touch with friends, and find catch up with old friends. But I found someone, and now I’m not sure if that was a good thing. It isn’t even someone I knew personally. It’s the son of my childhood hero, Dwight Gooden, and we’ve swapped a few emails.

He’s been cool about it, and I hope I have too. But looking at his page, I was offended myself with the comments other people were leaving. Everything was about his dad, women commenting on his looks, or just fans checking in. I understand their thought process, to a point. I flat out told the guy that I grew up a big fan of his fathers, and I had read he (Dwight Gooden Jr) was now doing some music, and I wished him well. Maybe I’m just more articulate than those other fans, either way, it just feels kind of dirty.

But I couldn’t really help myself. Not that it should be his problem, but like most fans, I’ve had a relationship of sorts with his dad. Man that sounds too much like Macauly Culkin talking about Michael Jackson. But his father had a huge impact on my childhood. Not just as a sports fan, because there’s so much more to his story than what happened between the lines. I vividly remember how I reacted in 1987 when I found out that he was going into rehab. I was furious, and I was only 10.

I think Doc and Darryl’s woes forever changed the way athletes were covered and perceived. I’ll have to do some research, but I think they were the first major scandals, at least in the age of 24 hour sport networks. The day he went into rehab, was the end of the era that saw reporters covering for ball players. How much a guy drank or what he did off the field was protected in the past and with Gooden and Strawberry’s troubles, reporters began looking at the personal lives of the ballplayers as newsworthy.

That was my first experience with “knowing” someone with a drug problem, not just Nancy Reagan telling me to say “no.” Soon after, I had some much closer relationship with someone with a substance abuse problem. How I handled that was directly impacted by my response to Doc. There was, and still is plenty of anger, but there was also forgiveness and since that day, I’ve come to realize that I can handle someone messing up, as long as they can own up to it. Doc taught me that, I never learned how to throw a curve.

So here I am, 32 years old and I’ve emailed his son. There’s no ulterior motive, I’m not looking to accomplish anything. Well, other than revisit the 10 year old in me. I like that kid, and its always been important to me to remember him. That’s why I have Doc’s rookie card in my wallet. In 1996, Doc threw a no-hitter for the evil empire (Yankees) and I jumped up and down (just one jump!) on the bed in my dorm room. It looked like I was alone (had there been an outside observer) but I was with the 10 year old me. So it wasn’t just some 32 year old emailing the son of his hero, it was the 10 year old that made the decision.