A PLUME BOOK
WHEREVER I WIND UP
R. A. DICKEY of the Toronto Blue Jays is one of the premier pitchers in baseball. In 2012 while playing for the New York Mets, he became the first knuckleballer to win the National League Cy Young Award, major league baseballs highest honor for a pitcher. He has also written for the New York Times and is working on a young adult version of Wherever I Wind Up as well as two childrens books. When not on the road with his team, Dickey lives in Tennessee with his wife and children.
WAYNE COFFEY is an award-winning journalist for the New York Daily News and the author of more than thirty books, including The Boys of Winter, a New YorkTimes bestselling chronicle of the 1980 U.S. Olympic hockey team. A three-time Pulitzer nominee, he has long been regarded as one of best sports feature writers in the nation.
Praise forWherever I Wind Up
It might be the finest piece of nonfiction baseball writing since Ball Four. Perhaps above all, its a classic epic quest, a flawed heros unlikely odyssey to the major leagues and to discovering the mystical pitch that helped him get there.
L. Jon Wertheim, Sports Illustrated
An astounding memoirhaunting and touching, courageous and wise.
Jeremy Schaap, bestselling author,
Emmy Awardwinning journalist, ESPN
Gripping... Searingly personal... To know Dickey is to root for him.
Tyler Kepner, The New York Times
Compelling... Dickey credits his faith with overcoming myriad trials both personal and professional, but it never feels as if hes preaching.... The author emerges as one of baseballs good guys, and someone who can write as well as he pitches. Dickey has set a new standard for athlete autobiographies.
Publishers Weekly (starred review)
R. A. Dickeys book is unlike any other professional athletes autobiography you have ever read. And that is a very good thing.
Mike Bauman, MLB.com
A wonderful and powerful new memoir.
Jim Caple, ESPN
Nobody in baseball has overcome more obstacles than R.A. Dickey, and nobody writes about them with more honesty and insight. R. A. doesnt want to be called a hero, but he is exactly that, and when you read about his lifes journey and his courage, you will agree with me. This is an awesome book by an awesome man.
Orel Hershiser, ESPN Sunday Night Baseball analyst, former MLB All-Star
I cant recommend Wherever I Wind Up enough.
Gary Cohen, SportsNet New York (SNY)
A baseball story that is unlike anybody elses.
Buck Showalter, manager of the Baltimore Orioles
PLUME
Published by the Penguin Group
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First published in the United States of America by Blue Rider Press, a member of Penguin Group (USA) Inc., 2012
First Plume Printing, 2013
Copyright R. A. Dickey, 2012
All rights reserved. No part of this product may be reproduced, scanned, or distributed in any printed or electronic form without permission. Please do not participate in or encourage piracy of copyrighted materials in violation of the authors rights.
Purchase only authorized editions.
REGISTERED TRADEMARKMARCA REGISTRADA
THE LIBRARY OF CONGRESS HAS CATALOGUED THE BLUE RIDER PRESS EDITION AS FOLLOWS:
Dickey, R.A.
Wherever I wind up : my quest for truth, authenticity and the perfect knuckleball /R.A. Dickey, Wayne Coffey.
p. cm.
Summary: A memoir written by baseball pitcher R.A. Dickey Provided by publisher.
Includes bibliographical references and index.
ISBN 978-1-101-56114-0
1. Dickey, R.A. 2. Baseball playersUnited StatesBiography. 3. Pitchers (Baseball)United StatesBiography. I. Coffey, Wayne R. II. Title.
GV865.D46A3 2012
796.357092dc23
[B] 2012001700
PUBLISHERS NOTE
While the author has made every effort to provide accurate telephone numbers, Internet addresses, and other contact information at the time of publication, neither the publisher nor the author assumes any responsibility for errors, or for changes that occur after publication. Further, publisher does not have any control over and does not assume any responsibility for author or third-party Web sites or their content.
Penguin is committed to publishing works of quality and integrity. In that spirit, we are proud to offer this book to our readers; however, the story, the experiences, and the words are the authors alone.
For Anne and the kids
R.A.D.
For Denise, Alexandra, Sean, and Samantha
W.C.
Dum spiro, spero.
Latin proverb
(Translation: While I breathe, I hope.)
CONTENTS
PROLOGUE
THE WORST NIGHT I EVER HAD
I remember details. Ive always been able to remember details. I will never be a Hall of Famer and will never lead the league in strikeouts, and am in no imminent danger of joining the 300 Victory Club. But my memorythat I will put up against anybodys.
I can tell you about the little wagon wheels on my red comforter when I was four years old, my phone number and address247 Timmons Avenuewhen I was in kindergarten, and the smoky haze that hung in my mothers beat-up Impala when I was six, a sorry heap with a gas gauge that was habitually on E. I can give you a foot-by-foot description of my boyhood bedroom, highlighted by the Larry Bird photo I tore out of Sports Illustrated and taped on the wallI loved Larry Birdand can still see my first glove, a brown synthetic $12 model from Kmart. It was called the Mag. I have no idea why. Maybe it was short for Magician, or Magnificent, or Magadan, as in Dave. I used the Mag when I played shortstop for Coach Teeter, my first Little League coach, who gave us yellow iron-on stars after we did something positive or had a good game.
I got my share of yellow stars, but they never made it onto my uniform. My mom had a lot going on.
I can give you every detail you want, and plenty you dont want: about the dark times in my life, about the saloons I went to with my mom, and the empty houses I slept in as a teenager, a wayward kid in search of soulless shelter, and about the most traumatic summer of my life. It came when I was eight and it included a new babysitter, and a game with a tennis ball out in the country, on the roof of a garage. Then things happenedhorrible things. I remember the smells and colors and feelings, and the pile of the carpeting. I remember it all.
I wish I didnt.
When I think of that summer, and so many dysfunctional seasons that followed, the details threaten to go on forever. The inner warfare that gripped me the day I went from baseball bonus baby to baseball freakthe Pitcher Without an Ulnar Collateral Ligamentand lost almost three-quarters of a million dollars in the process. The blue flip-flops I wore when I tried to swim across the Missouri River, one in a long line of unfathomably stupid risks Ive taken. The orange-red hues of the autumn of 2006, when, eleven years into my professional baseball career, I thought about taking my life because of the mess I had made of it.