Foreword, march.

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From page
vi of your 2009 Bound Edition:


I don’t know whether to
consider this an honor or an avenue to curse Jamey for dragging me out of my
cave and back into the baseball world. 
For the past two years I have absorbed myself in my family — partially
as a means to compensate for the loss of my baseball family, but also to avoid
moving on into another career, as that would acknowledge that the Ranger
chapter of my life was officially over. 


Notice the
word “chapter” was modified by the word “Ranger.”


Three months
after he wrote that paragraph, which opened a lengthy foreword for this year’s book,
I wrote this about Jeff Zimmerman:


Zimmerman, who cursed me this
summer for bringing all those memories back to him with a column I wrote, those
days he’d been trying for years to forget, and who then, giving in, agreed not
only to write what I consider the greatest foreword of the 19 written for my 10
books — basically a tribute to Rangers fans and the Metroplex in general —
but also to fly in from Vancouver with his family to be at last night’s event.


What more is there to say
than has been said since he arrived on the scene 10 years ago?  Few have experienced greater highs or greater
lows in this organization, but Zimmerman is as even-keeled and humble and
self-deprecating and genuine as they come, and just being around him — whether
you’re a Rangers fan or, I suspect, a former teammate or a college buddy or a
family member — feels like a privilege.


I wrote
that the day after our book release party, at which Jeff Zimmerman sat next to Michael Young on the stage.  This very well might have been the conversation:

Jeff: “Hey, man.  Congrats
on the Man of the Year Award.  I miss
being your teammate.”


Michael: “I miss those days, too, Zim.  What’s next for you?”


Jeff: “See this little glint in my eye?  I’ve got something in mind.”


I just
traded texts with the 36-year-old righthander, who said this: “Please don’t
hate me.  I need to be close to my girls
and SEA was the best option.”


Hate?  Hate?? 
C’mon.  I can’t wipe the smile off
my face.


Read this.


Or this.


Or both.





You can read more from Jamey


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