Says Narron,
"I'm there for Josh, always. When he gets antsy, he'll come up to me and
say, 'Johnny, let's do a devotional.' Last year he would come talk to me about
his struggles. This year he hasn't brought it up once."
During the 2007
season Reds second baseman Brandon Phillips grumbled to a reporter that there
was more focus on Hamilton than on winning. Hamilton acknowledges that he
sensed some resentment in the locker room from three or four players and says,
"I didn't care. I went about my business, spending time with the fans,
doing stuff that I was supposed to be doing and getting some [media] attention.
They blamed what they were pissed off about on [Narron]. I think they were just
jealous they weren't getting the attention."
To avoid a
similar occurrence in Texas, Daniels asked a few clubhouse leaders, including
Kinsler, shortstop Michael Young and third baseman Hank Blalock how they
thought players would react to having Narron around. "Basically what we
told J.D. was, 'If this guy is going to help us win baseball games,'" says
Kinsler, "'we don't care.'" The day after the trade the Rangers held a
press conference to introduce Hamilton to Dallas-area reporters. For an hour he
spoke candidly about his journey back to baseball and his renewed commitment to
his family and his faith. But it wasn't until Hamilton noticed Kinsler, Young
and Blalock sitting in the back row that tears began to well in his eyes.
"It's the support group that I have here that makes staying clean
easy," he says. "And I always refer back to the media too. If I did
something stupid, something I shouldn't be doing, it would be all over the
nation. I would be such a hypocrite, I'd let everyone down. That's why I go to
the ballpark, and I go home. Park. Home. Park. Home."
THREE HOURS
before game time at Rangers Ballpark, fans are already gathering in the stands
to watch the home team take batting practice, but the show doesn't really start
until it's Hamilton's turn to step to the plate. "I remember seeing him
taking BP with the Devil Rays in 2000 during spring training, and I was like,
Who's that?" says Red Sox first baseman Sean Casey. "He was 18 years
old and hitting balls farther than anyone else. I went up and introduced
myself, and I said, 'That's one of the greatest swings I've ever seen.' I don't
think I've ever done that [with anyone else] my whole career." On this
mid-May afternoon, to the fans' delight, Hamilton hits four consecutive shots
into the upper deck in rightfield. "Oh," Kinsler would say later,
"today's show was nothing."
Watch Hamilton
out on the field, and even though he says he's not a fan of the game ("I
think it's boring," he says. "I never check box scores; I never watch
ESPN"), it's clear he wouldn't want to be anywhere else. In between his
turns during BP, he sprints around the bases, slaps teammates on the head as he
passes them, hides Young's bat under the tarp and sings along to Texas Time
Travelin' as it blares over the P.A. system. After warmups he walks to the
stands and hands a broken bat to one fan, his batting gloves to another.
Already Hamilton
is a fan favorite. "He is, by far, the nicest, friendliest player,"
says Gary Spraggins, a 27-year-old season-ticket holder. "The first week of
spring training in Arizona, he's coming out onto the field with the music on
the stadium speakers, and he stops in front of the fans in the outfield and
leads them in singing."
Most of the
faithful know Hamilton's story, and so too do some of the fans in other
ballparks—only they yell, "Crackhead" or "Josh Hamilton is a drug
addict." But Hamilton keeps his sense of humor. After one fan yelled,
"Don't trip on the white line," Hamilton looked up into the stands and
shouted back, "Dude, tell me one I haven't heard."
Opponents root
for him as well. Before his first major league at bat, on Opening Day last year
in Cincinnati, Hamilton received a rousing standing ovation from the crowd at
Great American Ballpark. Hamilton stood back near the on-deck circle, and Cubs
catcher Michael Barrett yelled, "Congratulations, Josh. You deserve it.
Take it all in."
During another
game, against the Astros, Hamilton was on base when Houston second baseman
Craig Biggio, whom he'd never met, approached him. "I knew Ken
Caminiti," Biggio said, referring to his former teammate who died of a drug
overdose in 2004. "I know how hard it is, but you're headed in the right
direction. Good going."
"The ball
just sounds different coming off his bat, almost like a gunshot," says A's
lefthander Greg Smith. "You watch him track down a ball, you watch him
throw a guy out at third. Then he hits a ball down the line and gets a triple,
and it's like, The guy can run too?"