One Cool Daddy: An Inside Look
Posted: Wed September 2,
1998
In this week's cover story, which reaches newsstands and
subscribers starting Wednesday, senior writer Rick Reilly introduces the
Mark McGwire you've probably never met—a man who,
during a drive home to Southern California after the 1991
season, finally realized what
was important to him. The revelation helped resurrect his
career.
Reilly spoke with CNN/SI about the flip side of Big
Mac.
REILLY SOUNDS
OFF:
 On the androstenedione
controversy (287K)
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(V.J. Lovero)
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CNN/SI:
What kind of access did you
have?
Rick Reilly:
Compared to the access I had to Michael Jordan, it was like
visiting your next-door neighbor. He just gave me all kinds
of time. He just couldn't have been nicer. You know,
I expected it to be every day like the last day of Saigon,
but it wasn't. If he
didn't have a big game or if he didn't hit a home run,
I guess the other writers didn't even try to talk to him, or
he had some rule. But what
I would do is, he would always work out after the game, then
he'd come back to his locker and I'd be the only
one there, and he'd give me 45 minutes to an hour every
night. He was always the last to leave the
clubhouse.
CNN/SI:
Can you compare McGwire's life to
what you saw with Jordan and the
Bulls?
Reilly:
Every step Jordan made once he got out of his Range Rover
inside the United Center was covered by cameras, every
step. And not just one camera—10 cameras, until he got
into the locker room. And then when got out of the locker
room, every step until he
got into the Range Rover, and then until he was gone. That
wasn't how it was with McGwire. I would say it was
one-fifth as bad as
Jordan.
The only thing that was similar was the signs, the people
begging, the people leaning over walls trying to get things
to him. With McGwire it only lasts an hour out on the field
before the game. And then the other thing is, unlike
Jordan, where people
are shooting pictures in warmups because he exists, with
McGwire they were all there to see the warmups. It was
amazing: stands packed, the cage totally surrounded, and
both teams come out, even his own pitchers who see it every
day—to watch him hit those
BP balls. I've never seen anything like
it.
CNN/SI:
How much do you think he cares about breaking Maris's
record? He often tries to downplay
it.
Reilly:
He gets misty in his eyes so often, I noticed, when he
starts talking about history. He gets misty. He's very
emotional now, and I think he downplays it because he
doesn't want to start crying in front of people.
I think it means a lot to him. Since he
hit 50, he's been much more emotional about it, much more
talkative. And
I think the record would mean a huge amount to him. But, you
know, he started to get misty talking about three straight
years with 50, which no one had ever done; that meant a lot
to him
too.
He's kind of a worrier, and
I think it does bug him that if he doesn't do it people will
think he's failed. And he's trying to tell us all,
"Hey,
I hope you won't think I've let you down if I don't do
this."
CNN/SI:
In the story you talk about how McGwire is kind of a
homebody. Is that a result of his celebrity, or is that
just the way he
is?
Reilly:
He's always been that way. I don't think he's much of a
drinker;
I think he has a grasshopper now and then.
I think he's kind of the anti-jock: He doesn't wear a lot of
jewelry, he doesn't want to go out, he doesn't care much
about money. He's pretty
simple.
CNN/SI:
How well did you know him before, when he played in
Oakland?
Reilly:
He was really friendly with me when
I used to do Jose Canseco stories or when I'd see him in
clubhouses. He seemed to read my stuff, which is rare
nowadays. But he knew me, and he read me, and when I'd see
him he'd say, "This piece was good," or,
"That
piece was no
good."
So when
I saw him this time
I said, "It's Rick Reilly from Sports Illustrated,"
and he turned and he goes,
"I know who you
are," like really glaring. And
I thought, Oh God, this is going to be the worst month of my
life. Then he stuck out his hand and said, "Nice to
see you again," laughing. So he was kind of sending me
up.
CNN/SI:
How does he feel about the adoration and attention he gets
from
fans?
Reilly:
He's great about signing autographs. He's not real
talkative with fans. He hates collectors and he can pick
them out of the crowd. One time when he and I were standing
near the first-base stands, he goes, "That guy in the
dark glasses, he thinks
I don't
see him but
I see him. He was here yesterday, and now he's trying to wear
dark glasses and a hat, I'm not signing for that guy."
And the guy of course is hearing everything he's saying,
and he just backed
off.
CNN/SI: How has McGwire changed since his days with the
A's?
Reilly:
I think that when Canseco was such a hot story, McGwire liked
not being the hot story; he actually liked watching it and
not being in it. And now that he's in it
I don't think he likes it that
much.
As for his emotional side,
I didn't know him that well before. But
I had dinner with his ex-wife, visited with his parents, got
to know his brother—and they all told me about the
changes.
CNN/SI:
Obviously he's grown closer to his family, but how tight
were they
before?
Reilly:
I think they were a very nice, all-American family. But you
know, jock families, they don't often talk. They don't go
into emotional things. A lot of jock dads think it's weak:
"We don't talk about that, that's wimpy. We don't cry,
we don't talk about
emotions, we don't talk about love." So here's this
250-pound beast trying to discover how to do that all on
his own and failing lots of times until finally he seems to
have gotten it
right.
CNN/SI:
Do you think he'd be having the kind of success he's having
without this
self-discovery?
Reilly:
No,
I don't think there's any way. That's what he said, too. Once
he got his priorities right—well, that's such a
cliché. Once he figured out what mattered to
him—his son, his own peace of mind—and got over
the failure and realized that he's a good
person, then baseball became what it is supposed to be, which is
a game.
I don't think there's any way he'd be doing what he's done
the last three years if he wasn't emotionally
right.
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