In baseball terms, a “cup
of coffee” refers to a brief call up to the Big Leagues. This means that
the players’ stint in The Majors lasted about as long as the time it takes to
drink a cup of coffee.
In my case, I never had what it took to make “the Show”. I
ran like an umpire, my fielding skills were reminiscent of Frankenstein chasing
after a moth, and I couldn’t hit a basketball with a tennis racket. But the
baseball gods decided I was fit for another role, relegated to a 90 second
appearance on the field during the 5th inning every night.In my life outside of baseball, a cup of coffee literally and figuratively saved my life. After over two decades of constant alcohol consumption I had finally become sick and tired of being sick and tired. I went to a place that I knew little about; all I really known about it was that it could possibly help and there was always fresh coffee available. Immediately after entering that room for the first time, I filled a cup with some hot fresh brew and it hasn’t emptied since.
On that day, I traded alcohol for coffee.
I consider it one of
the most lopsided trades since the Red Sox traded Babe Ruth to the Yankees; the beer companies lost one of their
most loyal customers, while I slowly but surely began to regain what I had lost
as a result of that loyalty. I regained what I had lost and then some. I gained some
things I never had or even understood before.
Serenity. It’s a feeling where everything is at peace,
inside and out. I constantly have moments of joy where I think to myself “I would never have experienced this with a
beer in my hand.” When I first started having these moments, I would be
amazed by Gods Grace in my life. Often, I felt undeserving. Was it really
possible to feel this good, this soon after recently having thoughts of that
final solution to a temporary problem? And like a man wiser than myself once
said, most of my problems, even those (seemingly) unrelated to alcohol either
disappeared altogether or at the least became more manageable.
It’s not a surprise to me that during the very first moment
I felt true serenity, I had a cup of coffee in my hand. I was sipping a cup while on the front porch of my Aunt Jolene's house on an unseasonably
warm evening in December 2010. The
sunset was majestic; with its red, yellow and orange colors painting the clouds
and the skies. I smile and thought to myself “Yup, if I keep doing what I’m doing, I will feel like this all the
time.”
It was around that time where I started drinking up to 8
cups of coffee per day. Probably not the best thing for my health but a hell of
a lot better than my previous beverage of choice. Many a night would find me
brewing a pot after midnight, especially in the midst of a major writing
groove. I’d reheat whatever was left he next morning and go about my usual day;
looking for steady work, reading, writing and reading some more. When I would
have my sons with me for a few days, it would crush me to send them home so as
soon as they were gone, I’d go straight to 7-11 and get a fresh cup. It was a
welcome comfort during trying times.
After many sleepless
evenings, when my mind was ready to sleep but my body just wouldn’t settle
down, I started to mix with it a little decaf so I wouldn’t be jittery all
night. This mix is usually adjusted depending on what my plans/obligations were
for the rest of the day.
Coffee used to be strictly a morning thing for me but
nowadays, it’s not uncommon for me to stop on the way home after a day out with
the family for a cup. I usually go heavy on the decaf on these occasions; due
to the fact that my internal clock has me awake when most others sleep. To add
more caffeine to that would all but guarantee that I’ll be awake well past
sunrise and toss and turn for another hour before actually falling asleep.
Sometimes I tend to rush into the day and leave little time to eat and this
causes me to get a little jittery, but I’d take that over a hangover any day. I
call that yet another trade that I’ve benefitted from greatly.
I love that I can always get a hot cup on the job around
midnight. If my workday is not going so well, that first sip reminds me of that
day on my aunts porch and while this may sound a little corny, all my worries
either wither away or at least shrink to a point where they’re unnoticeable.
New Years Eve 2010
was my first sober New Year since 1990. On that night, my oldest son Trevor
asked me “Daddy, why do you drink so much
coffee?” I explained that I did it because I didn’t drink beer anymore. He
replied “I like it when you drink coffee,
you’re nicer.” Not that I needed any more incentive to stay sober, but I
consider one of the most cherished moments in my entire life. Building upon
that, I am humbled and grateful to know that my daughter has never seen me take
a drink and as long as I continue on this path, she never will.
But of all the great memories I have; sharing a cup with my
Mom on many a Sunday morning before heading out to the stadium and later, the
ballpark; of having coffee by the campfire with my Grandpa Joe; all the cups
shared with others who walk the same path I now walk and the morning wakeups I
had at the Knott’s Hotel on our Honeymoon, you know what I like best about it?
There’s no Last Call for coffee…
