The Prodigal Son
Hamilton did not die.
In June 2006, following eight months of sobriety, Major League Baseball granted Hamilton permission to participate in spring training. Prior to reinstatement, he had to show that he was clean (once again submitting to drug tests three times a week), committed to getting back in shape, and able to hold a steady job. To prove himself, Hamilton went all out. He attended regular recovery meetings and church services, rarely left the house alone, and had his wife handle all the couple’s money.
Eventually, he moved to Clearwater, Florida to work at a baseball academy, the Winning Inning. There, under the supervision of a former pro player named Roy Silver, Hamilton mowed the lawns, unclogged toilets, and took out the trash. In his spare time, he did nothing but hit. “It came back pretty naturally,” he says. “It’s something I’ve always been able to do.”
He alerted Tampa Bay to his progress, and soon general manager Andrew Friedman was in touch with Bud Selig, petitioning the commissioner for Hamilton’s full reinstatement. “We wanted [Josh] back in the game because he needed it for himself,” Friedman says. “That was the most important thing, and we expressed that to the commissioner’s office. You absolutely have to root for Josh to succeed.”
After weighing the evidence, Selig agreed, and that summer Hamilton played 15 games for the Devil Rays’ Class-A Hudson Valley club. But he hit .260—proof to the Rays that their once-can’t-miss kid had probably missed for good. Following the season, Tampa Bay decided to leave Hamilton off its 40-man roster, meaning he could be signed by any other franchise in the annual Rule 5 draft. With little to lose, the Chicago Cubs nabbed Hamilton, then traded him to Cincinnati. “I don’t think we saw it as a risk,” says Johnny Narron, a former Reds coach. “We knew how much raw talent Josh had. So why not go for it?”
Hamilton arrived at the Reds’ Sarasota, Florida spring training complex the following February
in the best shape of his life. The one-time addict now weighed a solid 230. He hit one monstrous shot after another, tormenting pitchers to the tune of a .476 exhibition batting average. It was
as if all those lost years were merely a bad dream, as if he had stepped right out of high school and into the major leagues. On the opening-day roster, Hamilton was listed as the fourth outfielder.
“I don’t think people understand the sort of odds Josh overcame to make it,” says Eddie Guardado, a former Reds reliever. “My brother was a heroin addict who died from drugs. I’ve seen how it reaches out, grabs you, and doesn’t let go. So for Josh to return from all those years of not playing baseball—having barely picked up a bat—and perform at that level, well, it tells you what kind of player he is.”
On April 2, 2007—nearly eight years after being drafted—Hamilton finally made his major- league debut. As he strolled toward the plate as a pinch hitter, the crowd at Cincinnati’s Great American Ball Park gave him a 22-second standing ovation. Though his rookie season was cut short by a handful of injuries, Hamilton was one of the Reds’ top players, batting .292 with 19 home runs and 47 RBI in 90 games.
From afar, members of the Texas Rangers’ front office watched in amazement. When it was time to beef up the team’s outfield, Daniels called the Reds and offered Edinson Volquez, one of baseball’s top young pitchers. Though the Reds were saddened to lose Hamilton, it was a deal they had to make. “At first I was a bit surprised,” says Hamilton. “But when I got here I saw what type of team it was. The guys are so welcoming, I feel like I’m in high school again. The joy has completely returned.”
The Rangers, meanwhile, have high hopes. They expect Hamilton to start 130–140 games in center field, and see the potential for a .290-30 home run-100 RBI breakout season. At press time, his performance in spring training was living up to expectations: Through his first 12 games, Hamilton’s OPS was 1.747. “There’s no question Josh is one of the great talents in the game,” says Daniels. “You take one look at him and see that this man is made to be a baseball player. At his best, the sky is the limit.”
Hamilton’s life outside baseball is quiet. His internal battle is unrelenting, making him ill-suited to the postgame pursuits of the average big-league ballplayer. When his teammates hit bars and clubs—even restaurants—at night, he goes home to his family. When he needs to, he revisits James 4:7, the verse that helped pull him through his darkest days: “Submit yourselves therefore to God. Resist the devil and he will flee from you.” Resisting is not easy, but Hamilton has seen the alternative and knows it’s not an option. Today Josh Hamilton knows who he is. The only question left to be answered is, what can he do on the field?
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