#71 La Fortitudo

Hey, do you remember that commercial about how many lakes it takes to get to the center? I'm going to get off the phone right now because I just got to the fish store and I have to go inside. Wait, why are you going to a fish store? Why do you think I'm going to a fish store? I have no idea. To buy a side of beef? Like, what am I doing at a fish store? I was just making conversation. I'm buying some fish for supper. What kind of fish are you getting? Salmon. What? Salmon. What? Salmon. What? God. What? What? From Pushkin Industries, I'm Jonathan Goldstein, and this is Heavyweight. Today's episode, La Fortitudo. Right after the break. This is an iHeart Podcast. Guaranteed human. This is Jacob Goldstein. When you're a business owner interested in expanding to new markets, there's a lot to consider and countless questions to answer before making the call. The most important one? The most important one being, are you ready? That's where ChatGPT comes in. Give it a goal, add your files, and ask Chat to help you map out different scenarios for the future of your business. So when growth is on the table, you've got an expansion plan ready to implement. Get started today at ChatGPT.com. If you love music and great artist interviews, check out Before the Moment, hosted by Niall Rogers. This new series follows Niall as he travels across the country talking with some of today's most famous artists. This is Jacob Goldstein from What's Your Problem? Try Odoo for free at odoo.com. That's odoo.com. After a single disastrous season of Little League in 1976, I gave up on baseball. Jock straps, stirrup pants, that belly-itcher song. Not for me. But when I listen to Dan talk about the game, the way a bat connects with a ball, even I can see the beauty. There is just no better feeling and no better sound on this earth as far as I'm concerned. There is a crack that is so resonant, so absolutely gorgeous, and it's the most ethereal feeling Do you actually have a memory of the very first time you hit a baseball? I remember it perfectly. I'm 13 years old. It's towards the end of the game, two outs, and I got the bat on the ball pretty good. I remember standing on second base feeling like I belonged. From the time Dan started playing baseball, his life mission was set. I was going to become a major leaguer. I just had to make it happen. Dan attended baseball camps and watched VHS tutorials. He spent hours dissecting hitting manuals from cover to cover. The only problem? Despite all that instruction and study, I was lousy. As an underclassman, Dan played for the JV team. I got cut from the JV. As a junior, he tried out for varsity. They cut me. And then, as a senior, he tried out again. They cut me. Finally, Dan got the message. Nothing was going to happen, and the dream was done. Or so Dan thought. Because even though he'd given up on baseball, baseball hadn't given up on him. Baseball's return to Dan's life is a twisty tale. While he was away at college, Dan's parents fell on hard times and were forced to move in with his grandparents. After graduating, Dan moved into their tiny two-bedroom condo. And about a year and a half later, his grandfather suffered a stroke and died. About six weeks after he died, I told my parents I couldn't take it anymore. It was just too hard. I'm taking off. I'm going to go to Italy. In college, Dan had grown friendly with a boy named Giovanni, who came from Florence. The way he spoke of life there sounded romantic. So Dan bought a one-way ticket, moved in with him, and started looking for work. When I say seven days a week, I mean seven days a week I pounded the pavement of Flores, Italy, trying to find a job. I think I lost about 20 pounds just from walking, like every single day. This went on for three months, until one day, after yet another fruitless job interview, Dan saw a small flyer pinned to a bulletin board in the train station. And it said something about a baseball team in Bologna and the season is starting. The team was called La Fortitudo, meaning the courage, the strength. Dan, desperate, saw a chance to wet his childhood dream of joining a professional baseball team with his more recent dream of getting a job, literally any job. So I fabricated a resume about my baseball experience. All these years later, Dan still has the fake resume. So let's see here. I think I had some help with the Italian at this point. Prima base, which means first base. University of California, Davis, Division II. Giocatore allenatore, which means player, coach. Woodland Phillies. I said I won the California championship for semi-professional baseball. What does semi-professional mean? I don't think it means anything. I came up with fake batting averages. I hit.401,.415, and.310. Wow, that's really good. But I didn't do that. I made it up. I mean, did this kind of lying come easy to you? Absolutely not. I was really quite the opposite, kind of a Boy Scout. But in that moment, I was so desperate not to go home. I was so desperate to make this work that I just didn't care. I said, well, I'm going to go for it because I'm out of money and I just cannot go home. Dan was called back to interview for a batting coach position. And perhaps simply because he was American, he was hired on the spot. And with that, baseball was back. But almost immediately, panic set in. Dan remembers the first time he stepped onto the field to watch the team warm up. Oh, shit. Like, these guys are real. These guys can really play. What Dan hadn't known was that La Fortitudo was one of the best and oldest teams in the Italian Major League, essentially the New York Yankees of Italy. What could Dan, a guy who got cut from junior varsity, possibly teach the Italian Yankees? Were you in constant fear of being found out? Constant, constant. So I was walking this fine line between being a coach and just fading into the background. And the fact that you couldn't speak Italian, that didn't enter into it? Well, it actually worked in my favor. Because if there were ever any probing questions that made me nervous. No, no, a speaker di Italiano. Right, exactly. When I would help with the batting, it was just a lot of pantomiming. Dan felt like an imposter, a real scaramouche, until one day, mid-season, when he had a chance to step up. La Fortitudo was playing a team from Rimini called Ipirati, the Pirates. And on the mound walks an American pitcher named Dennis Rasmussen. And my jaw hits the floor. Rasmussen had been a major league baseball player who'd played on the Padres, the Cubs, the Reds, the Royals, and for four years on the New York Yankees. Dan used to root for him. And now, here Rasmussen was, pitching against La Fortitudo and pitching well. No one can hit him. I mean, no one can even hit a foul tip. They were winning, like, 4-0. And Dennis was a left-hander. our hitter who was supposed to face him. who was also a left-hander. From his many years spent studying and analyzing the game, Dan knew that when facing a left-handed pitcher, a right-handed batter had a better shot. So I went up to the manager and I said, let's pinch hit. Let's put in a right-hander. And I point to this player named Mamo, Mamo Morselli. Mamo was someone the coaches didn't play much. In this particular moment, though, Mamo had one qualification that recommended him. When it came to pencils, salad forks, and baseball bats, Mamo favored his right hand. So we put in Mamo. He hits a double and drives in a run. I am the happiest I've ever been because it's about as close as I could conceivably ever get to facing a major league pitcher and getting a hit. Was that your greatest success as a coach? 100%. 100%. That's one of my greatest successes as anything. Dan is in his 50s. He's lived a life. He knows what success feels like. And yet, nothing has come close to that day in 1996 when Mamo hit the double. In the movie version of this story, the one in which Dan is portrayed by a young, a young Tom Hanks, he would redeem his having conned his way onto the Italian Yankees by leading them to the Italian World Series where he'd be carried off the field and soaked in whatever the Italian version of Gatorade is, a bucket of scalding espresso, I'm imagining. But none of that is what happened. We lost, regularly lost. So regularly, in fact, that that season, La Fortitudo ended up in last place. And in Italy, last place meant getting relegated to the minor league. It's like if all the Yankees were simultaneously demoted to their farm team, the Scranton Wilkes Bar Rail Riders in Musick, Pennsylvania. I left them in last place. I was so ashamed of myself and have been carrying that shame ever since. So for Dan, it's complicated. That year, he wore a professional baseball uniform, spent time on the field with real players, made games, and at the same time calls. He realized a dream. I have my jersey framed in my living room. I follow the team online, and it's still very much alive in my head. But at the same time, it was all based on a lie. And because he lied and was unqualified for the job in the first place, Dan wonders, do I bear responsibility for the team's failure? If I don't, who does? I was dressed up like a coach, I was acting like a coach. I mean, I was the coach. But I was a coach under false pretenses. Dan is finally ready, after 30 years, to come clean to his old teammates. Maybe if Laforte Tudor forgives him, he can keep the good memories uneclipsed by the shame of having lied. I think that they deserve to hear the truth. I hope it can allay some of the shame I feel. I just need to know I did my best to put this lie to bed. After the break, going to bat for Dan. But before that, heads up. Some amazing products to help you cover all your bases and provide a home run of savings. That sounds like I know baseball, right? If you're a music fan, here's a new podcast to check out. It's called Before the Moment, a new series hosted by the legendary Nile Rodgers. You know him as the producer, songwriter, guitarist, and co-founder of Chic. But in this series, he's hitting the road to sit down with some of today's most fascinating artists. From hitmakers like Miguel, to rising stars like Alex Warren, Nile explores the stories behind the careers, the songs, and the moments that changed everything. Because every artist can point to that turning point, that moment before the breakthrough, before the success, before everything changed. Through candid conversations and personal stories, you'll hear what happened before the moment that made them who they are today. Listen to Before the Moment, a Lincoln Original series on the iHeartRadio app, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts. With ChatGPT, you can do more than get answers. You can get things done. When you're running a business and looking to expand, you need a clear view of the landscape before making any decisions. ChatGPT can help you prepare. Connect your Google Drive, point to relevant files and reports, and ask it to research competitors, industry forecasts, and market signals. It can turn the findings into a strategic deck in your team's template that you can review before presenting to your leadership team. Growing a business is ambitious, and ChatGPT can help you do it with confidence. Get started. For I don't know how long, maybe 12, 13 years, I've worn a Whoop band on my wrist. I started doing it because I met the founder of Whoop at a conference. He heard that I was a runner, and he said, oh, you'll love this. It's perfect for athletes. And he was right. I've worn one ever since. Every time I work out, I see how hard I worked, how long I need to recover. I wake up in the morning, and I get a complete picture of how my sleep went, which helps me understand the kinds of things I need to do. The kinds of things that lead to a bad night, and the kinds of things that lead to a good night. Whoop is no screen. It doesn't need to be recharged every five minutes. It's sleek, handsome, and everywhere I go, I can instantly see who's part of the Whoop community. Whoop offers three membership tiers. Power your performance with the lowest price at Whoop One. Improve your health, now and for the future, with Whoop Peak. And tap into medical-grade health insights with Whoop Life. Whoop is a winner. Members can try Whoop with a 30-day free trial before committing to a membership. That's whoop.com for your free month of Whoop. Did Dan really tank the team? As Robert De Niro, as Al Capone in The Untouchables said, just before driving a bat through someone's skull, baseball is about teamwork. So how much damage, I wonder, could one little old fake coach have caused an entire team? Since asking his teammates if Dan destroyed the team, with Dan on the line, might potentially be awkward, I decide to make the initial calls on my own. But no sooner do I start thumbing through the Italian white pages that I'm confronted by the fact that I neither read nor speak Italian. What I'll need is an interpreter. Hello. Hi. How are you? I'm great. And so, Cynthia. Cinzia. Cinzia. Cinzia. Cinzia. Okay. Cinzia lives in Italy. No, I'm based in Mexico City. But the main thing is, she's an interpreter. Through talk or translating on paper? None of them. I'm a masseuse. Cinzia is a masseuse. Wait, why is my interpreter a masseuse? A masseuse? Yes, I'm a massage therapist. Oh. But, she says, she has a degree in foreign languages and she's a masseuse. And is unofficially translating all the time. Still, this will be her first time doing it professionally. Cinzia is willing to try new things. I like to look at my life like it's a big puzzle. A big puddle? A puzzle. Oh, a puzzle. A big puzzle. That's better than a puddle. We begin with a player named Roberto Radaglielli, or Radda, as he's known. Hello. Hello. Ciao. Come stai? Come stai, Roberto? Radda was La Forti Tudor's pitcher in 1996. When I set up the interview, I kept it vague, never bringing up Dan's name. I wanted to ask what he remembers about the 1996 season. Allora, sinceramente, mi ricordo solo purtroppo cose non belle. He doesn't remember a lot and what he remembers are not really pleasant things. So during that year, he says that it was a big disappointment because he was a really good player and this loss kind of marked a little bit his career. He says that because of this, the vibe, let's say, that there was in the team, he wasn't feeling as he could train in his best way. I can't help wondering if the vibe, short for vibration, that kept him from training in his best way was Dan, short for Daniel. But when I ask Radda if he remembers a batting coach named Dan, Radda says no. Okay, thank you. Okay. Roberto, thank you, Roberto. It was very, very nice to talk to you. Ciao, ciao. Ciao, buona serata. Great. After the call, and the awful beating my long-distance calling card took from all those goodbyes, Chintzia expresses doubts. That's actually weird that he doesn't remember. Like, that sounds a little bit shady. Oh, interesting. I don't know, but it just sounds a little bit. Okay. I respect your suspicion. I like that. Could it be that just as the suspicious masseuse suspects, Dan was so sus that Rada refuses to remember him? Before getting off the phone, Rada passed along the name of another teammate, one he thought might remember more, Stefano Landuzzi, or Bidi. Ciao, Chintzia! Hi, Jonathan! Bidi was La Fortitudo's catcher. I make an ill-advised attempt at trying to match his joie de vivre. Oh, hello, hello, the joie catching in my throat. Where are you? There's a feeling of excitement. He's at the field, he's at the game. Bidi started playing at eight years old in La Fortitudo's junior league, and then played 18 seasons in the Italian Major League. He retired in 2010, but still coaches a youth league in Bologna. I love baseball. It's a sport that gets into your blood. A foreign journalist, the kind that wears a lanyard around his neck, might next ask, what is the proudest moment in your legendary 18-year career? But instead, I ask, what do you remember about the 1996 season? I ask about the single most embarrassing year of his professional career. When I ask you what you remember about that season, you start to laugh. Why is that? That year, it was kind of sad because La Fortitudo was relegated, and it didn't happen for 30 years. From 1966 to 1995, everything was fine. Then came 1996. Or, put another way, then came Dan. That year for La Fortitudo was like, it was like touching rock bottom. But Bidi tells me, La Fortitudo came back strong, winning the Italian Cup the very next year. And Fortitudo, what is today, it started in 1997. Wow, so it was doing great until 1996. 1996, bad year, and then 1997, good again. Yes. Dan's year, in fact, was La Fortitudo's. La Fortitudo's single relegation in its 73-year history. I wonder if you remember a man named Dan. Do you remember him at all? Me? Dan. With Dan, it was the first time for La Fortitudo to have a batting coach. And then, Bidi explains, after the troubles of 1997, in 1996, La Fortitudo stopped having batting coaches. It would take another three years before they tried it again. Va bene, ok. Great, ok. Ciao, Jonathan. Ok, ciao. Ciao, Jonathan. Ok. Ciao, Jonathan. Va bene, ste. Ciao. Ok. Bye-bye, thank you. Do you want to ask him anything else? No, no, that's great, that's great. Ok. Ok. Va bene, ciao. Bye-bye. Bye-bye. Ciao, ciao. To the question of how much damage one little old fake coach, might have caused, it seems, after speaking with Bidi and Rada, that the answer might be, a lot? I talked to a couple of the baseball guys, and anytime that year was brought up, it was like, oh boy. Does the guilt make a little more sense? Not only that, but Bidi actually said that they were doing great until 1996, and then they did great after 1990. Did you know that? This is what I'm saying. But there was one player I reached out to, who finally, after weeks of back and forth, agreed to speak with me. Thank you so much for doing this. It's a pleasure. Mamo, the right-handed batter Dan put in to pinch hit. Mamo is now a 50-year-old cafe owner in Bologna. He hasn't played baseball in many years. When I asked him about 1996, Mamo makes this sound. Mamo calls that whole year traumatic. The following year, he even took a whole season off baseball. But when I bring up Dan, Mamo has fond memories. Mamo recalls Dan as young and enthusiastic, always on the field, giving advice about batting stance. Does he remember there was a game where the pitcher on the other team, a guy named Dennis Rasmussen, he was on Rimini? Do you remember? I remember. He remembers. Really? I remember that one. I didn't play often. Yeah. But I do remember that time that I hit the ball. Wow. And I brought home that point, basically. However, I don't think we won that game. Yeah. I don't think we won that game. But you do remember that moment 30 years later. I remember that specific moment, the adrenaline and the enthusiasm of that point. Then, Mamo confesses something about that point that he's been holding on to for 30 years. I thought it was Dan convincing the first coach to put me in. Really? I thought about that. Dan wants to apologize for his lie. And Mamo, because he and Dan share that same happy memory, is the right person to receive it. It'll be like the gift of the Magi, without any of the cruel irony. Bada-bing, dare I say, bada-boom. Hello? Mamo, come stai? Bene, tu come stai? Bene, bene. A few days later, we all get on a video call. Dan and Mamo catch up. And as a wine, Dan brings up Mamo's hit against Rimini, what that moment has always meant to him. So I want to say thank you. And felice, molto felice. It makes me really happy. Dovevamo sentirci prima, Dan. We should have talked before. I ho aspettato troppo tempo. You've waited too long. I didn't have the courage. I thought you would be upset. Dan then offers Mamo the reason he thought he'd be upset. It is very hard. It is very hard for me, and I am very ashamed. When I got the job as the hitting coach, I lied about my background. I never played for the Phillies in the minor leagues, and I was never a coach. I only played two years in high school. On screen, Mamo laughs quietly to himself. Ah, ok, ok. No, però, dai. Sei venuto a fare una bella esperienza. You came for a good experience in Italy, for an adventure, even if it didn't end well. Ci ha addossato forse molte colpe, ma. What happened is not your fault. Yeah. You're not sure, you're not convinced about what I said? Non so come fartela passare, ma credo che. I don't really have a way to tell you, don't worry about it. Grazie, grazie a voi. Thank you, thank you guys. Thank you, Mamo. Thank you, thank you, Mamo. Ciao, Mamo. Ciao. Buona serata a tutti. È stato un piacere. Un bacio grande a tutti. Have a lovely night, everyone. Bye. Grazie. Grazie. Ciao. Prego. Ciao, ciao. Ciao, ciao. Buon rientro. Jonathan, Italians can never finish saying goodbye for some reason. I know. All right. Bye. Thank you, Dan. Bye. See, this is what I'm talking about. All right, ciao. Goodbye. After another dozen or so goodbyes, Dan and I finally get off the call and talk. While I'm feeling good, it quickly becomes apparent that Dan is not. The fact that he forgave me, it almost felt too easy. I almost don't know what to do with that. But there's a little dissatisfaction. There is a little bit of it still in me. Dan sounds less like someone who's found closure than he does someone who's found medical cotton in his abdomen after a botched surgery. I don't get it. Dan got what he wanted. He may not have been the best coach, but he did some good, and no one is upset. In fact, I checked with Radha and Beattie too, and I assured Dan that they'd also see him as a good coach. said it wasn't his fault. So why doesn't he feel better? Why didn't Mamo's forgiveness make a difference? I think I almost wanted him to get mad at me. Maybe if you had spoken to him like a couple years later when it was fresher when you were younger, maybe there would have been that, but like. Yeah, I don't know. I wanted him to be angry with me. If all Dan needs for absolution is someone to be angry with him, I could do that. I could yell at him over the time I spent phoning multiple Italian baseball players, spraying long-distance minutes like an open-fire hydrant. I could get into a rather frothy lather over the hours spent watching my cousin Vinny with the Italian subtitles in the failed hopes of teaching myself Italian and then having to hire an interpreter-slash-masseuse. I could work myself into a good old-fashioned Tizzy Maguire over how, for the past ten minutes, I've had my finger anxiously hovered over the play button set to roll the closing theme song to convey feelings of bittersweet resolution. But to quote Meatloaf, I would do anything for Dan, but I won't do that. Months go by during which my producer Stevie and I continue to puddle over why Dan feels dissatisfied. And eventually, we stumble on an answer. Although Dan is a very good singer, although Dan was done with his story, Dan's story wasn't done with me. It's called Before the Moment, a new series hosted by the legendary, Nile Rodgers. From hitmakers like Miguel to rising stars like Alex Warren, Nile explores the stories behind the careers, the songs, and the moments that changed everything. ChatGPT can help you get things done. And he was right. I wake up in the morning, and I get a complete picture of how my sleep went, which helps me understand the kinds of things that lead to a bad night and the kinds of things that lead to a good night. Whoop is no screen. Improve your health now and for the future with Whoop Peak. Whoop is a winner. New members can try Whoop with a 30-day free trial before committing to a membership. My producer Stevie and I returned to the recordings we made and re-listened to all the various conversations we had with Dan. It's while going through the tape that we find something he expressed that seems valuable in retrospect. It's from an early conversation he had with Stevie, telling her about his departure from La Fortitudo. Towards the end of the season, as the team hovered around last place, Dan up and left. I just bolted, kind of like I bolted from my parents. Kind of like I bolted from my parents. It seems that in Dan's mind, his abrupt departure from La Fortitudo was the second time he fled a tough situation. My parents lost everything. They were going through just hell. My grandfather died and I picked up and left. And I think escaping was almost like abandoning them. So when I think about the intersection with my parents and Italy, I guess there was a bit of a betrayal there too. Things got hard at home and Dan fled to Italy. Things got hard in Italy and he fled back home. I thought the guilt Dan was shouldering was over how he'd arrived at La Fortitudo with all his lies. But maybe the guilt really lay in how he departed with its echoes of his departure from his family. Sure, a baseball team is like a family, but what's also like a family, even more like a family, is a family. And so, a year after we last spoke, I get back in touch with Dan to ask if it's possible that the real forgiveness he is looking for is from his parents. It's very possible. It's very possible. They had no one. I was the oldest kid. And I left them alone. I don't know if they felt anything negative towards me, but I felt it. And you've never talked about it with them? No. Huh? Never have. It's not something I like to talk about. I mean, it's just hard to go back there for me. Yeah. If Dan wants to absolve himself of his shame, he has to sit face-to-face with the two people he feels he originally abandoned. Dan didn't just need absolution from La Fortitudo's. He also needs it from La Famiglia's. It's a scary thought. It's funny, my heart's kind of racing, but I don't think it's a bad idea to have that conversation. So, I pack up my recording kit and head to L.A. for an away game. I meet Dan at his home. Together, we pile into his car and set off to his parents' house. It's about a half-hour drive across town. Wait. This is their place? This is their place, not that place. Oh, it looks like they got a termite issue next door. Yeah, I think they do. Jesus. Yeah, it's like the end of E.T. with that big tent over the house. In my own way, I'm also like a termite, using the mandible of reason to gnaw through the wood of shame. Also like the mighty termite, I'm not partial to being in a tent, for camping, or for being fumigated. This is Jonathan. Oh, hi, hi. This is Alan. Hi, Alan, Jonathan. Nice to meet you. Nice to meet you. Thank you for having me. Oh, no problem. We follow Debbie and Alan into their living room. They sit close together on the couch, and I take levels. Please tell me what you had for breakfast. Yogurt. Uh, what else? That's it. And what did you have for breakfast? I had yogurt. Uh-huh. What are you planning on having for lunch? Let's see, probably more yogurt. That's a lot of yogurt. While my curiosity has now pivoted to the amount of yogurt this family is eating, I quickly pivoted back to the non-yogurt-related reason we're here. I tell Dan's parents I want to talk about the time before Dan left for Italy, how they came to live with Debbie's parents. Well, I think it is complicated. Alan was a partner in his own firm. Debbie and Alan walk us through a series of misfortunes, a company bankruptcy, multiple job losses, salary cuts. I mean, we couldn't even pay our property taxes. So, you know, I was the one who said, we've got to get out of here. You know, we're going to end up in debtor's prison. If we don't get out of here, we have no other choice. So he said, well, where are we going to go? I said, we'll go move in with my parents. Debbie's parents' place was dark and cramped, without enough room for all five of Dan's family members. When Dan and his siblings were all home, one slept on a fold-away bed, another on the long couch, and the other on the short couch. They were there for three years. Dan remembers his dad being at work all the time, his mom sneaking cigarettes, and sleeping in the middle of the day. I just remember you going through a really, really hard time. Oh, yeah, it was terrible. And you guys were fighting a lot. I was watching you guys fall apart for quite a while. And then when Grandpa had the stroke, right there in his room, and that was that horrible, what is it, a week-long experience? Something like that, before he passed away. And then I left for Italy shortly thereafter. For the first time, Dan begins telling his parents how he feels about having made that decision. What I've been holding on to is I feel like I abandoned you. You didn't have anyone to talk to, Dad. And I was the only other adult. And I felt like I ditched you and just left you hanging. No. No. Dan's parents interrupt him. No, I was thrilled that you went. No, we were happy for you. We were proud of you and happy for you. They try to console him. But just like with Mamo, just like with me, Dan can't take it in. Forgiveness. Forgiveness feels too easy. Even at the time I left, I thought, what have I done? But Dan, seeing you go off to Italy made me feel happy for you. Yeah, I knew you wanted to go. I don't think I did the right thing when I left for Italy. But Debbie and Alan, in a way that perhaps only parents can, keep pushing back. Oh, yes, you did. Oh, yes, you did. You did the right thing. You absolutely did. For yourself and for your family. For us. Dan always knew he was doing it for himself. But for us? How did I do it for you? Because if you had stayed to support us, that would devastate me. That's what parents want for their kids, is to see their kids make their own lives in a good way. Not to have them hanging around dependent on being caregivers. God, that's the last thing I want. What Debbie and Alan are trying to tell Dan is that even though Dan Sommers' is the only other adult, he wasn't. He was their child. I can see Dan finally starting to bend. I do, from your perspective, I see it and I remember the joy you had when I'd call you. And that's kind of coming up. I remember that. Since he didn't have a phone in his apartment, Dan would call home from the payphone outside the baseball stadium. He usually phoned at night when he was alone, the streets empty and dark. Back in California, Dan would call home from the payphone outside the baseball stadium. Back in California, Debbie and Alan received Dan's calls in the grandparents' kitchen. Sometimes they huddled together by the receiver. Sometimes one of them took the extension in the bedroom. They listened to Dan's stories about his new teammates, the trips they all made to the beach, how he talked baseball with them all day long in his broken Italian. And I thought, wow. I had my own wonderful memories of my time serving in Europe, two years in the Army in France. And I thought, wow. He's going to have a taste of another life in another land, doing something that he loves. And maybe, I mean, actually, as long as I'm thinking of it, maybe that was what I gave you. Maybe that was the support I gave you. The kind of support a 22-year-old should give. Having a great adventure and allowing his parents to share in his delight. Oh, absolutely. Oh, sure. We felt it. Are you kidding? We felt it. Do you remember when I called you to say I got this job with the team? Yeah, I remember that. How did he sound? Did he sound excited? Excited, yeah. When I heard it, I remember I was excited. Oh, really? You're a baseball fan? No, I'm a fan of my son. Do you feel better? I do feel a little bit better, actually. Good. You shouldn't feel bad at all. No. I'm glad you went to Italy because it's a great place to go. And I'm glad you came back. Okay, so what do I do here? So you'll need two hands. Okay. After leaving his parents, Dan and I head back to his place, where, in his living room, Dan hands me a bat. So what you're going to do is you're going to hold the bat. Go down. Stand with your legs shoulder-width apart. From where I stand, legs shoulder-width apart, Dan is a good coach. And now just twist your hips. Boom. See that? Or my. This foot. Yes. My right foot. Yes, your right foot. That's a swing. That's the baseball swing. Now that the furniture's returning to its goodwill home Now that the last month's rent is scheming with the damaged deposit Take this moment to decide If we meant it, if we tried Or felt around for far too much From things that accidentally touched This episode of Heavyweight was produced by Stevie Lane and me, Jonathan Goldstein. God, is that, really? Is that what I always say? Yeah. Okay, no, no, no. It's just that I'm losing my mind, I think. That's all. All right. This episode of Heavyweight was produced by Stevie Lane and me, Jonathan Goldstein, along with Lisa Wang. Our senior producer is Kalila Holt. Editorial guidance from Emily Condon. Special thanks to Phoebe Flanagan, Ben Natif-Haffrey, Nadia Raymond, Luke Malone, and Jackie Cohen. Emma Munger mixed the episode with original music by Christine Fellows, John K. Sampson, Emma Munger, and Bobby Lord. Additional scoring by Blue Dot Sessions, Boxwood Orchestra, Bobble, and Hue Time. Our theme song is by The Weaker Thans, courtesy of Epitaph Records. Follow us on Instagram at heavyweightpodcast and subscribe to our free newsletter at patreon.com slash heavyweight. We're always on the lookout for new stories, so if you have one, a heavyweight is the best. We'll see you next time. Bye. If you'd like to be a heavyweight of your own, send us an email at heavyweight at pushkin.fm. We'll be back next week with a new episode. I should see a doctor. This new series follows Niall as he travels across the country talking with some of today's most fascinating artists about the moments that shaped their lives and careers. From hitmakers like Miguel to rising stars like Alex Warren, Niall explores the stories behind the careers, the songs, and the moments that changed everything. Because every musician remembers the point where everything changed, and this podcast tells the stories that came before it. Listen to Before the Moment, a Lincoln original, on the iHeartRadio app, YouTube, or wherever you get your podcasts. And he was right. I wake up in the morning, and I get a complete picture. I have my sleep went, which helps me understand the kinds of things that lead to a bad night and the kinds of things that lead to a good night. It's sleek, long-lasting battery, and now with AI looking at all my numbers and coaching me. Whoop is a winner. This is Malcolm Gladwell from Revisionist History. In military families, service is more. It's more than a job. It's a legacy. At American Military University, that legacy can help open new doors through education. If someone in your family served in the military, you could be eligible for reduced tuition. Take the next step with flexible online programs built for real life. Learn more at amu.apus.edu slash military. Guaranteed human.