Mentorship for Dusty Baker means everything, and encouraging tough conversations amongst this generation of players is vital for reasons beyond the ballpark. 

Mentorship for Dusty Baker means everything, and encouraging tough conversations amongst this generation of players is vital for reasons beyond the ballpark. 

Richard Rodriguez/Getty Images

Former Houston Astros manager Dusty Baker can recall vividly the first time he had a real conversation with a teammate about how to take care of his health. 

“Probably started with Hank Aaron because he was really, really conscious of taking care of himself,” Baker said to Chron. “He was real regimented.”

Article continues below this ad

Baker, 76, has lived as interesting a baseball life as any who played the game. The former two-time All-Star and two-time World Series champion has been involved in baseball professionally for nearly 60 years, but he’s mindful that authentic conversations among men—beyond the baseball of it all—don’t happen often in the clubhouse. Even Baker’s mentorship from Aaron wasn’t necessarily a give-and-take exchange. 

“It wasn’t really a conversation. Back then, for young guys, it was like talking to your father. You observed the lifestyle, and then you’re told what to do,” Baker said. 

Dusty Baker spent seven seasons as a teammate of Hank Aaron with the Atlanta Braves. 

Dusty Baker spent seven seasons as a teammate of Hank Aaron with the Atlanta Braves. 

The Sporting News/Sporting News via Getty Images

Baker’s reflection of Aaron, who died at 86, stems from a moment that stopped time for many in the baseball community. A moment that forced players inside each clubhouse in Major League Baseball to stop and have a hard conversation with each other about their health. 

Article continues below this ad

“The last thing you’re thinking about is death.”

Darryl Kile, a three-time All-Star who threw a no-hitter in 1993 for the Astros and played for the Colorado Rockies and St. Louis Cardinals over an 11-year career, died of coronary artery disease in 2002 while the Cardinals were on the road to face the Chicago Cubs. Kile, who finished fifth in Cy Young voting in 1997 with the Astros, was only 33 when he was found dead in his Chicago hotel room.

“To use my dad’s story, a professional athlete in his prime, ready to start a game the next day, dying in his sleep, using that story to hopefully encourage people to not wait until it’s too late and get to a doctor,” said Sierra Kile, Darryl’s daughter.

Article continues below this ad

Her voice has been instrumental in “Playing with Heart,” a campaign in partnership with nine Major League Baseball (MLB) clubs and legends that encourages current MLB players and fans to get their cholesterol checked, as elevated LDL-C can increase the risk of heart attack and stroke.

Former Houston Astros pitcher Darryl Kile passed away at 33 due to coronary artery disease in 2002. 

Former Houston Astros pitcher Darryl Kile passed away at 33 due to coronary artery disease in 2002. 

Stephen Dunn/Getty Images

“Willie McGee is my son’s godfather and Willie was on that (2002 Cardinals) team,” Baker said. “I remember talking to Willie about it because he talked about what a great guy Darryl was … It woke us all up. It woke us all up like, ‘Hey, man, this could happen to anybody,’ because when you’re young, the last thing you’re thinking about is death.”

For many within the community, it was a reminder that even those who appear superhuman on the field are still very mortal off of it. 

Article continues below this ad

“These guys have the same problems in their lives as everybody else does. They just happen to be out there playing baseball in front of everybody,” Baker said. “Everybody’s dealing with family problems, health problems, grandmother, grandfather, uncle, somebody.”

The pressure to stay on the field and be a part of the team can be just as heavy as actual physical or mental problems a player might be dealing with.

“I tell my guys, if there’s a problem with your family, go take care of your family,” Baker said of his time as a manager. “Go take care of your mom and dad, and we’ll handle this till you get back.”

Dealing with an obvious injury like an elbow injury or a torn hamstring is understandable to many in the clubhouse or locker room, but in past eras, talking through issues beneath the surface could raise more questions than answers.

Article continues below this ad

Former Houston Astros infielder Geoff Blum recalls a time when it might feel safe to chat with a team counselor with one's health issues. 

Former Houston Astros infielder Geoff Blum recalls a time when it might feel safe to chat with a team counselor with one’s health issues. 

John Grieshop/MLB via Getty Images

“The generation that I grew up playing with, those were unspeakables,” said Geoff Blum, who played five of his 13 MLB seasons with the Astros and is now the team’s color analyst. “It’s kind of funny. We had an (employee assistant program), but the theory inside the clubhouse amongst players was, don’t talk to that person because that person’s going to talk to management. Management’s going to go, ‘That guy’s got issues with his mental health. We don’t want him on the team.'” 

Blum acknowledges that the current generation benefits from the destabilization of mental health. He also credits organizations for regimenting all types of check-ins. 

“These guys are under so much scrutiny, not just in the public eye, but in the baseball eye,” Blum said. “They have nutritionists, they have strength and conditioning coordinators. They have team doctors who keep an eye on these things, and they get tested yearly to make sure that they’re at peak health.” 

Article continues below this ad

“No, what are we working with today?”

Blum pauses and acknowledges that players still have to go the extra mile themselves with each other. 

“Reminds me of the meme that goes around,” Blum said. “That guy goes to play golf with a friend for four and a half hours, and his wife goes, ‘Hey, how’s so-and-so? Did you hear about his divorce?’ And the guy goes, ‘He’s getting divorced?'”

Blum recalls a conversation with Astros legend and former hitting coach, Jeff Bagwell, on how a simple check-in can do wonders. 

Article continues below this ad

“I rolled into the cage one day, and he goes, ‘What are we working with today?’ And I said, ‘Let’s start with some tee work,'” Blum said. “I got mechanical about it. I said, ‘My swing’s here. I want to work on this.’ And he goes, ‘No, what are we working with today?’ And he looked at me, and he said, ‘Are you tired? Are you hungover? Did you kiss your wife goodbye today? Where’s your head at?’

“It put things in perspective for the day, and what am I working with today, and how do I make that person today work their best?” 

For a manager, keeping a pulse on everyone’s dynamic inside the clubhouse matters.

Article continues below this ad

“That’s part of your job, try to get to know your players, get to know their parents to a degree and find out what makes a guy tick or which guys to leave alone and which guys to talk to because we’re a family and communication is the key.”

Ultimately, every player will be judged by how they perform between the lines, but also, every player should tap in just a bit more to create a safe space for teammates to discuss the challenges that happen outside of them. 

“With everything that’s happened with my family, just being able to talk about it [with players] is amazing,” Kile said. “They ask questions because they don’t know; they’re just curious. Finding people who are really curious and you can trust with any sort of conversation is important.”