It sucks.

A lot of other words describe the emotions as well, words that are unprintable in respectable places such as this.  But let’s say you’re a fan of the Detroit Tigers.  You had the post-season wrapped up and your team blew it.  To make matters worse, you even had tickets for the Division Series in your cracked & frayed hands.  Suddenly, out of the blue, the Twins got hot and your guys got cold and there was a playoff.  And you had a lead and blew the lead and blew your chances and ultimately lost the game.

Yeah, that sucks.

Now put yourself in the shoes of the guys on the field.  Mets fans can do this too, based upon 2007 and 2008.  These sudden cease & desist orders to your seasons is hearbreaking.  For the players, it’s even worse.

If you’re a player who was in the race until the bitter end and now sits watching another team play in your playoffs, well, man you ain’t feeling so good.  It’s like losing a girlfriend and watching some other guy marry her.  Sure you blew it with her.  But it doesn’t stop the pain from eating away at your arteries.

Even worse, think about the Twins players.  They had Cinderella Story written all over them.  The great late-season comeback, the comeback within the playoff game, the series in New York against the Goliaths of baseball, circa 21st century (and pretty much 20th century as well).  And you blew it.  Hell, you even had a lead in the 9th in Game 2.  You had your shot at infamy.  And you blew it.  Now you’re sitting on the same couch as the Tigers, watching other teams play in your playoffs.  It’s not fun.

And it really, really sucks.

The wound can run very deep.  There’s blame everywhere, from the teammate who blew the big game or made the colossal error to the manager who made the bonehead decision to the teammate who suddenly forgot how to run the bases to everyone but yourself.  Because one way to get over the season fast is to flip the Denial switch and put your self-criticism into hibernation with the bears and donkeys.

When you finally take responsibility, it will be later in the winter.  It will be when all the baseball games are done and the free agents are signing and you’re looking at the way your team is shaping up, or new team if you were traded or waived or released.  Then you’ll get a sense of how you can possibly improve or get over the hump next year.  Then you’ll get that sense of regret that is so hard to admit to yet so hard to fight.

And you’ll look into a metaphorical mirror and tell yourself that you had a hand in organizing the couch party last October.  You were an accomplice to the drop in season ticket sales as the off season progressed.  You had something to do with the fan base on the attack and the hot-seat status of your manager.  And you’ll think about how you watched the post-season from your couch instead of playing in the post-season while other guys watched you and how much you envied those who played and wished you could stuff a pillow into their faces.  You’ll wish the pennant-winning, World champion style champagne had a small amount of poison in it so those guys could feel as lousy as you the day after.

The problem is, your hangover started the first Tuesday in October and theirs didn’t begin until November and yours was the terrible, awful kind where you remember certain things you did and said and wish you hadn’t done or said those things while theirs is the kind of hangover that brings a smile to their faces because, damn, every throbbing pain in the brain was worth it.

Watching from the couch sucks.  Maybe next year, they’ll get to share your pain.  And you’ll be throbbing in the brain.

You can only hope.

Jimmy Scott is probably the greatest pitcher you’ve never heard of.  Visit Jimmy Scott’s High & Tight to read more from Jimmy and guests Desi Relaford, Eric Valent & Cassidy Dover.  You’ll also hear a new interview every Monday morning with former MLB players, agents, wives and others; giving new outlooks on this great game we call Baseball.  Go there now to hear Jimmy’s latest interviews with Rollie Fingers, Desi Relaford, Brent Mayne and MLB Umpire Hunter Wendelstedt.  You can follow Jimmy on Twitter or Facebook.

Yet, there’s the other side.  While some guys can’t wait to get away from their well-paid group of “friends” who either weren’t paid enough or weren’t worth their paychecks, hence the going home after game 162, there are some guys who don’t want to go home.  Why?  You’ve heard phrases like Life begins at 40, right?  For ballplayers, Live begins at home once the season ends.  In other words, the responsibility of thinking basically only about yourself every day ends abruptly.  Now you need to think about the wife or live-in girlfriend and the kids.  The younger guys might end up going home to where their parents live; maybe not the same house, but likely the same town.  Since most kids aren’t buddy/buddy with their folks, and since most Thanksgiving dinners are not the stuff of a Norman Rockwell painting, most MLB kids do not look forward to seeing Mom & Dad every day for the next 5 months.

For some players, there’s surgery.  Read the Notes section a day or two after the last game of the season and you’ll see this player and that player are suddenly scheduled for some sort of surgery, ranging from minor to Six Million Dollar Man rebuilding, the kind that you’ll hear about as spring training begins and ends and our Six Million Dollar Man is wearing jeans every day instead of a jock.  If you’ve ever had surgery, any kind of surgery, it’s not fun.  Some guys know already they’ll have to go under the knife the first or second week of October.  Some guys know but are in denial about it, just like they’ve been in denial about how bad their team is, and will continue to be, in order to get to this point in the season.  Some guys just think they’re sore right now and are in for quite a surprise once they take that exit physical.  And then the fun of the off season, of not having to travel all the time or live in a hotel half the time or hang out with a band of jerks most of the time or get badgered by the media the times when you screw up doesn’t really matter because you’re going to spend much of your upcoming time rehabbing.  If you lust for the upcoming 5 months, surgery is like a cold shower.

The upcoming off season isn’t really an off season for some players.  Some are going to fly to Arizona or Hawaii or Mexico or Central America and keep playing.  There’s the Arizona Fall League for the game’s more elite prospects and the Caribbean League for those who either come from that part of the world or need to get better at their game.  Some will keep playing because they simply love to play baseball.  They grew up playing ball all year round.  Why stop just because they’re adults?  Others live for the Caribbean League because they are stars down there.  Even if they’re not big shots in the States, they may be legends-in-the-making south of our borders.  There are always fans willing to pay to scream your name.  There are always ladies will to whisper your name in your ear.  There is always the pull of fame and its perks.  When the MLB season ends, the fun for some has just begun.

Finally, there are the guys who are going to spend the entire off season either being courted by teams and sponsors – your elite free agents – or guys doing the courting – your 25th man free agents.  These are the guys who will feel the stress of looking for work starting 15 days after the last game of the World Series.  Some guys will love the process.  It’ll be their Caribbean League equivalent, getting loved and cheered by front office executives, media personnel and fans in cities you could love if the money is right.

Other players will hate the process.  There’s either the stress of squeezing as much money as possible in a bad economy from the winning bidder and then living up to your new billing as The Next Big Thing or there’s the stress of your phone not ringing.  There’s that stress of knowing your agent is working to get 28 other guys jobs before he gets to you.  Which means the available jobs won’t be as lucrative as you had dreamed, or the city you’ll have to settle for isn’t on a coast, or you might be insulted by not getting any offers until Christmas and New Year’s and MLK Day and Valentine’s Day pass you by.  There’s the stress of waiting and wondering why you skipped playing in Puerto Rico this off season when you could have been showing off your skills instead of protecting yourself from possible injury.  Add in that you potentially don’t like your wife (or she doesn’t like you), your parents bug you every day, and, quite frankly, you don’t have anything to do and suddenly miss the camaraderie of hanging out with a bunch of jerks all the time and you’ll begin to long for the end of the off season.  Soon enough, you’ll find yourself telling people you can’t wait for 2010, when The New Season Cometh and you can get away from the reality of a cold winter without baseball.

Jimmy Scott is probably the greatest pitcher you’ve never heard of.  Visit Jimmy Scott’s High & Tight to read more from Jimmy and guests Desi Relaford, Eric Valent & Cassidy Dover.  You’ll also hear a new interview every Monday morning with former MLB players, agents, wives and others; giving new outlooks on this great game we call Baseball.  Go there now to hear Jimmy’s latest interviews with Rollie Fingers, Desi Relaford, Brent Mayne and MLB Umpire Hunter Wendelstedt.  You can follow Jimmy on Twitter or Facebook.

Watch VH-1 for example.  They love that type of stuff.  They’ve made a network built upon the shoulders of “stars” who have been forgotten.  Spike has done it too.  But even worse than some producer calling you out of the blue and asking if he and a couple of cameras can follow you around for a few hours is you saying, “Sure, I’d love that.”  Because now you’ve become an accomplice to your own joke.  You’ve swallowed your pride; your dignity has lost its way.  Friends & family won’t tell you, but after they watch your segment, they’ll agree amongst one another that you looked kind of foolish.  They won’t tell you, because you’ll know you looked a little bit more than “kind of” foolish and they’ll know you know (it’s an old joke, the I know you know that I know, but it always works).  Part of the game of a Where Are They Now is to pretend none of the attention bothers you.  But it always does.

Back to the VH-1 example.  Remember the song “Walking On Sunshine” by Katrina & The Waves?  I was their only hit, back from the mid-80s.  Now they might make sense for a Where Are They Now? feature because they only had the one hit song.  But the star of the band and the star of the segment was Katrina, now in her early-50s, still trying to make it back.  She’s heavier, maybe more talented but with zero chance of anybody caring about anything other than “Walking On Sunshine.”  If I were here, even though there’s little to lose career-wise, I’d still be embarrassed I was even asked.  And my fear is that I wouldn’t say no.

The film “Spinal Tap” showed what happened when the “famous” don’t realize they aren’t really famous anymore.  In one telling scene, the band Spinal Tap is in the U.S. for a tour.  They hear one of their early songs on the radio.  It’s great fun for the boys in the band…. Until the DJ comes on and says, “File them in the ‘Where Are They Now?’ category.”  Rarely do you get to watch five faces fall more quickly than a jumper off of the G.W. Bridge at rush hour.

The cousin of Where Are They Now? is the feature, “30 Seconds With (insert name here).”  This can be in the printed word or on video.  It can be audio-only as well.  The positive about this is it’s about you on the way up.  You could also be the focus of one of these as you sustain whatever level of fame you’ve got.  But 15, 20 years after you’ve “hit the scene?”  Unless you’re still making hits, headlines or noise with your alleged talent, you no longer qualify for “30 Seconds With…”  You’ve graduated to Where Are They Now?

None of this is easy.  First, it’s certainly not easy to get to the level of fame where you’ve generated enough press to warrant being the subject of a “30 Seconds…” type of profile.  To be the subject of a Where Are They Now?, you need to have made some sort of impact.  Making an impact publicly is the dream of millions and the accomplishment of the very few, so there is accomplishment built into either feature.  But every accolade carries its own risk.  If someone praises you, it’s up to you to live up to that praise.  That’s one reason the rich & famous burn out so quickly and never really get to the Rich part of the equation.  They get the quick (even if it was 10 years in the making) fame, do all they can to stay in the spotlight, but lose perspective, focus, inspiration…whatever.  They can’t keep it up.  It’s gone before they can really cash in.  Or they cash in a bit, but the Where Are They Now? feature 20 years later includes a line like this: “Coming off tax problems with the I.R.S., (insert name here) has learned (insert embarrassing public sentiment here)…”

The goal, once you’re reached Mt. Everest, is to enjoy it.  But ask any climber who makes it to the top and they’ll warn you not to stay too long.  You can always come back if you’re careful, and skilled enough.  Lose your head at the zenith though and you may never get the chance again.

Cal Ripken Jr. is a good example of someone who’s kept the dignity of reaching the top and keeping his name and accomplishments away from the veiled insult of Where Are They Now?  He was a great baseball player, a good man off the field and since retirement has made good choices, like running his baseball academy and allowing himself to be elected to the Hall of Fame.  His name is still out there enough to remind those who might care that he’s still around.

Mark McGwire is a good example of someone who was on the Cal path.  He was a lock for the Hall of Fame.  He was perceived as a good man.  Then the steroid thing got in the way.  His poor performance in front of Congress in 2005 also got in his way.  Then, humiliated, he disappeared from public view.  500 career home runs doesn’t generally qualify somebody for a Where Are They Now, but in McGwire’s case it does.

The worst is when you’re still active but become a Where Are They Now? club member.  For example, where are the Montreal Expos now?  Go to ESPN.com and you’ll see.  They’re now called the Washington Nationals.  If Nats fans are lucky, the team might move again soon.  That way, in 20 years, we can read or watch a Where Are They Now: The Washington Nationals and agree they deserve the little piece of infamy we’re watching at that moment.  Insulting?  You bet.  But that’s the risk you take when you strap on a guitar or a catcher’s mask.  Just like praise, failure comes with the territory.

Jimmy Scott is probably the greatest pitcher you’ve never heard of.  Visit Jimmy Scott’s High & Tight to read more from Jimmy and guests Desi Relaford, Eric Valent & Cassidy Dover.  You’ll also hear a new interview every Monday morning with former MLB players, agents, wives and others; giving new outlooks on this great game we call Baseball.  Go there now to hear Jimmy’s latest interviews with Nelson & Alisa Figueroa, Desi Relaford, Wayne Gomes and MLB Umpire Hunter Wendelstedt.  You can follow Jimmy on Twitter or Facebook.