Johnny Damon - Idiot: Beating The Curse and Enjoying the Game of Life

Chapter 1
So Close, but So Far

Chapter 2
Childhood

Chapter 3
Up the Ladder

Chapter 4
Leading off for the As

Chapter 5
Joining the Red Sox

Chapter 6
93 Wins

Chapter 7
Theo Takes Over

Chapter 8
Cowboy Up

Chapter 9
Americas Team

Chapter 10
Nomar Returns

Chapter 11
Heating Up

Chapter 12
A Shove in the Face

Chapter 13
A Bunch of Idiots

Chapter 14
The Yankees Are My Daddy

Chapter 15
The PlayoffsOne Year Later

Chapter 16
As Far Down as Possible

Chapter 17
Miracle of the Century

Chapter 18
The Curse Is Broken

Appendix 1
Johnny Damon Career Statistics

Appendix 2
The 2004 World Championship Red Sox Team

O CTOBER 2003

I was standing out in center field under the bright lights in Oakland. The Red Sox were playing the As, my old team, in the first round of the playoffs in the fall of 2003. Jermaine Dye, probably my best friend in baseball, hit a lazy fly ball my way. I remember thinking it was going to be an easy catch. I ran over to get it. Then I blacked out. Damian Jackson, our second baseman, had run out for the ball, and just as it came down, we both went for it and collided. His hard-ass head struck me in the temple, knocking me out cold for a few minutes. If you look at the replay, I fly into the air, and my whole body goes numb. One of my arms starts shaking. It was the hardest whack I ever got. When I was playing football in high school, Warren Sapp hit me pretty good but Damian Jacksons head-on-head collision was definitely harder.

While I was on a stretcher being put into an ambulance, I gave a thumbs-up. When they carted me off the field, everyone thought I was okay, but I wasnt. Id suffered a bad concussion. My mind was scrambled. I actually thought I was wearing an Oakland uniform and that I was walking off the field waving to the Oakland fans, saying, Thank you for supporting us this year.

After the medics loaded me into the ambulance, they put some fluids in me and hooked me up to an IV. But as they were sticking it into my left armpeople think everyones right-handedthe ambulance hit a speed bump on the way out of the coliseum and the IV rammed into my veins. I ended up with a bruise from my wrist to my bicep that pained me for weeks.

When I arrived at the hospital, I asked one of the staff to turn on the TV, but I hardly remember anything about the game. Richard Halpern, a friend of mine from L.A., came to see me. He was wearing a shirt that said Boston Red Sox vs. Oakland As, 2003 ALCS. I kept looking at it thinking, 2003? When did Boston and Oakland play? And I continued to think I was part of the Oakland As, who Id been with in 2001. I remember thinking, What just happened to those two years? I had no clue.

My girlfriend Michelle, whom Id later marry, was in the room, and I kept asking her, Did we win? Did we win?

We won, she kept assuring. The team is going to New York. But then a few minutes later Id ask her, Did we win? Did we win?

I kept asking the same question over and over, 10 times, driving Michelle crazy. She told the doctor, Every question hes asking me, Im answering the same way, but hes not taking it in.

Thats because my brain was scrambled. I knew what I was asking, but the answers I was receiving didnt register. They say that when you suffer a serious concussion, you get thrown into a loop of questions. No matter how much your questions get answered, you dont comprehend. Thats exactly what was happening here.

The doctors sent Michelle back to our hotel so she could take a nap. After she left, I kept asking for her. Where is she? Tell her to get back up here. When she returned, I figured shed been away 10 minutes. But shed taken a 2-hour nap before coming back.

When I was released from the hospital and returned to my hotel room, I kept asking, What kind of game did I have? Was I doing good? I really had no idea what had occurred that night. I didnt know if Id struck out four times or hit two home runs.

You had a good game, Michelle assured.

About five months later I got to watch a replay of the game. That was the game in which Derek Lowe finished off the As in the ninth by striking out the last two batters looking on two of the most hellacious pitches hes ever thrown. It was a satisfying first-round win that had my teammates celebrating while I was lying in a hospital bed.

Hours after defeating Oakland, the Sox left for New York without me. Our head trainer, Jim Rowe, an incredible guy, made it his job to stay with me. He didnt get to celebrate our advancing on to the next round of the playoffs, but he never complained.

The next morning one of our ownersIm not exactly sure which ownersent his private jet over to fly us into New York.