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Chapter Thirteen

Bad Attitude

T    he word on the street was that I had a bad attitude.

I admit I used to snap sometimes, due to my frustration.
I admit I was moody as well, at times.
I assume it was the snapping and moodiness that helped to spread the rumor
that I was using cocaine, even though I never did coke a day in my life.
And never will!
It was the pressure that had finally built up and released itself on my
teammates, organization and even sometimes the heckling fans.
It was the unfairness; I felt I was experiencing from the organization, along
with all the build-up pressure I placed on my shoulders.
I would come back to spring training each year expecting some bullshit! An
example would be; I would play on the high A-ball team the whole spring
training and play well, when it would be time to break camp and begin the
regular season, they would place me back on a lower A-ball team after I
played well the whole spring with a certain group of guys and developed
friendships. The coaches moving me to low A ball from high A ball even
though I was playing well with the excuse, "he's still young, he's got time."  

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They'd then replace me with a player who was older than me to move up to
high A-ball because "he didn't have as much time."  It was as if the Phillies
felt I didn't need to move up as quickly as someone older than I did. It was
unfair so, I came ready to give it to them, combative with the chip on my
shoulder, every spring!

They'd piss me off, and I'd go into playing bad on purpose, sometime. If I
were mad, I would call myself taking it out on the team by not producing. I'd
strike out three times and not care. I know that it is wrong now, But I felt I
had no other way to fight back. 

Considering that baseball is as much about the individual successes as it is
the team, I played myself. If I look back at my stats which I am not
necessarily proud of, I know some of them were influenced by this “attitude”
of mine.

It started my first year, but that chip grew worse every year. I was always
expecting the silly games and things I considered bullshit politics.

I played off emotion. My moodiness was directly related to the outcome of
my game.

If I had a bad game, I was especially moody. I couldn’t separate the two.

While it seemed my other teammates could go on after a bad game not
phased, I would sulk. I would shut down, and if provoked I could snap, and I
did a couple of times.

Two instances stand out in my mind.

I had a bad game. I remember this Dominican player on my team was teasing
me, innocent fun, just being silly, on a bus to go back to the hotel after I had
a bad game.

I took it like I am not to be played with at this time.

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I got up snapped on him, "YO STOP PLAYING WITH ME BEFORE I
BEAT YOUR ASS," and turned and looked back at the whole bus full of
college-aged guys and other older teammates and made a scene...

“AND THAT GOES FOR ANYONE ON THIS GODDAMN BUS…. IM
TIRED OF YALL SHIT… TIRED OF PLAYING WITH YALL
MOTHERFUCKERS… AND IF ANYBODY GOT A PROBLEM WITH
ME, LET’S HANDLE IT NOW”.

Everyone stared at me like what-the-heck –is- wrong- with- you?!

This was my rookie year.

As time passed, the pressure built.

That anger went to anyone that was shit talking or cracking jokes. I was from
the south side of Chicago, I perceived it as fighting words.

At about 22, I started attacking people whom I felt were attacking me even
more aggressively, it seemed. I was tired of people talking shit. I had been
hearing and reading crap in the newspapers for three or four years now.

Once, I had a bad game at home. I had just struck out, and I am going back to
my position in left field. I was already pissed off, and unbeknownst to me, I
had about 5 off-duty cops, who were drunk as hell, begin to heckle me. They
were calling me every type of name under the sun and just talking trash, but
to themselves, having a good time,

“YO, JEFF JACKSON, YOU A BUM, YOU SUCK, WE SHOULD HAVE
DRAFTED FRANK THOMAS… WE DON’T WANT YOU “, and I
snapped again.

I hollered back. “FUCK YOU…. FUCK THAT….. I WILL COME UP
THERE AND WHIP YOUR ASS…..I WILL KICK YOUR ASS…. COME
DOWN HERE”… etc. etc.

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I snapped so hard with full attention on these five guys with my back turned away
from the game. I snapped so long that I was oblivious to the fact that not only was
I holding up the game, but when I finally calmed down, I turned around, my coach
was standing out of the dug-out, and the whole stadium was watching me with
pure bewilderment and shock.
After that game The next day, there was an article printed in the newspaper about
that incident that took place between the fans and I the night before, and all the
pressure I was dealing with in an article titled "Days Numbered"
Another time, I was going into the locker room, and a fan was talking trash, so, I
literally started chasing him. My teammates had to hold me back.
My reputation of a “bad attitude” was cemented after so many years.
I guess I'd have to say it destroyed whatever was left of my career with the
Phillies.

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Newspaper article detailing my incident with the fans and how I'm unhappy playing with the Phillies

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Chapter Fourteen

The Explosion

B      etween the bad shoulder and the bad attitude, my career was virtually on it's
way too being over.
I was able to sustain my bad shoulder with drugs, the infamous greenies, and
ibuprofen, I made it through a few more seasons with different teams but, they all
had the result of me getting cut or released from the team sooner than later.
I was getting tired of that as well.
The last team I officially played for was with the Massachusetts Muddogs. An
independent team in Lynn, Massachusetts.
I begin playing well, but I remember getting pissed off about something about the
coach said. I started playing badly for all my usual reasons, things in my control
and out.
By this time, I had gotten cut 3 times within the season.

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I started the season with the Pittsburgh Pirates. I played with them for about two
months before being released. Because I started to rebel again, by not taking
infield practice and treating batting practice like it was a home run derby after I
was taken out of the starting line up after an injury to my elbow.

I went home for a week, before the Fargo Redhawks in the Northern League,
another independent league, called me to play.

This was a popular team that a lot of former Major Leaguers went to play that
either retired, or had an intent to go back to the Major Leagues, so it was a good
move for me.

I got released there after about one month as well.

Now after the third cut with the Massachusetts Muddogs, I was thinking, “How
can I go home? My family and friends are going to think I can’t play ball,” and
again I felt as though I was letting everyone down.

So, instead of taking the plane ticket that the team would regularly pay for and
just go home and face the embarrassment, I decided to take the cash and stay in
town for a while.

I had met this young lady name Mindy, who I thought was cool and funny she
also lived in the area where we played. She had her own place, and I liked her. I
figured I would stay for two weeks with this girl, or, at least for the rest of the
season.

I didn't want people to know I got released. I should have gone home to my
girlfriend Maahra, but I had my pride and ego in the way.

And as usual, I could always count on a woman as a distraction or a comfort.

This young lady’s family, in particular, had a decent amount of money and they
owned a summer home in New Hampshire.

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Me at-bat with the Lynchburg Hillcats, Pittsburg Pirates Organization...

Me at-bat with the Fago Redhawks Independent Northern League team...

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Chapter Fourteen

A picture of me in the newspaper making a catch at the wall with Massachusetts Mad Dogs in the
North Atlantic League...

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So, we decided to get away and go to the summer home for the weekend after I
got released from the Mad Dogs, so I could relax, chill and take my mind off of
things.

We were hanging out one day at the house and decided to go rent jet skis.

I can remember it like yesterday.

We were in the water having fun for hours!

We were having a good time riding the jet skis, racing each other and doing
tricks, then out of nowhere...

The Jet Ski I was on blew up!

I felt like I had died.

The rental company had dropped the Jet Ski off at 11 a.m.

They bid us adieu and told us to be safe and just make sure the Jet Skis
were filled up with gas before we returned them back to the rental company at 5
p.m. that evening, 

As I said, we were having a good time.

At about 4:30 pm, we decided to go for one more last ride on the Jet Skis.  But
first, we had to go fill them up with gas at the fueling station in the water at the
other end of the lake.

I had already filled the young lady's Jet Ski up with gas, and she jumped on it and
started speeding off. She was just goofing around waiting for me.

I had just finished filling my jet ski up, but it was not starting. It hit the start
button, but it was not working.

I remembered that the guy who dropped them off gave us instructions about what
to do if they don’t start.

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He said sometimes it stalls out. If so, use the choke button. It's a button that
pushes the water out of the engine and that should get it started.

I proceeded to follow his instructions.

I choked it a few times, and though it was cranking a bit, giving me the
impression that it would start, it didn't.

By this time, the young lady noticed that I had not caught up with her as I was
waving my arms trying to get her attention to come back.

She begins to circle back. She was about 25 yards away as I began the choking
procedure again. I hit the starter button again. I heard the clicking sound, and the
next thing I know, I heard a blast and I went flying in the air.

I hit the water, and all I saw was darkness.

I thought I had blown off my legs as everything was numb from my waist down!
At the same time, I was in darkness, aware that my mind was working but nothing
else.

And even though I had on a life vest, the impact from the blast had still pulled me
under water.

I am not aware if I was drowning or not, I was just in the moment, going with the
flow. I was in darkness, and I just let go because it was the best feeling I had ever
felt, as if I was on a drug in the darkness.

I could feel this sleepy drug-like feeling that I was just submitting to.

And all of a sudden, my mind said, FUCK THIS SHIT, and I just started kicking,
not sure of which direction, but I was kicking with all I had. I came up from under
the water and took the deepest breath that I ever took in my life. I must have been
under the water for a long time because by the time I came up, two guys in a
canoe, who had been looking for me too resurface, grabbed me as if they were
angels sent by God himself to save me.

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They took me to shore.

By the time I got to the shore, the ambulance and the fire trucks were there
waiting. The fire trucks happen to be there on the shore doing a fire drill. I know
now they were angels placed specifically to help me. They said they had heard the
blast from the other side of the lake and came immediately.

They worked on me, checking to see if all my limbs worked. I knew I had bit my
tongue, but I actually thought I had bit my tongue completely off.  It was
completely numb. I actually asked in my delirium if I still had my tongue, they
laughed and confirmed that I did, luckily.

The people and paramedics took the best care of me. They took me to a hospital
in another state, Portland Maine, to specialists immediately.

They said they felt I had to be someone important when they saved me that day,
as there were no other black people around that area and I was there with this
white woman. To them, I was someone special, and they treated me as such.

I was so tired during this whole process. I will never forget the woman who was
the paramedic, I don't remember her name, however, she talked to me the whole
time while I was in transition to the hospital to keep me from falling asleep.

They say if you fall asleep after a trauma, it's a chance you can slip into a coma
and may never wake up, and that is what she suspected too. She asked me
questions about every part of my life. She wanted to know my mother's name,
where I was from, and everything in between. I remember just being so annoyed
with her! I was at my wits an just wanted to fall into a deep sleep. She kept
shaking and tugging me to keep me up. She knew better than me I suppose. She
assisted in saving my life, and I will forever be grateful to her.

I ended up in a hospital in Portland, Maine in a room with a front row view
overlooking a baseball stadium that I had played in four years earlier, how ironic.

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Another highlight was that my hospital roommate was an heir to the Spaulding
fortune, the athletic brand.
His great-grandfather had started the company.
I guess God has a sense of humor, even when he is saving your life.

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Chapter Fourteen

Me pictured standing on my jet ski shortly be for it blew up...

Me riding the jet ski for the last time right before the accident...

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Chapter Fourteen

Consultation summary report of my jet ski accident...

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Chapter Fourteen

Discharge summary report from jet ski accident...

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Chapter Fifteen

Game Over - A Peaceful Exit

G       od has always been real in my life.

I prayed many nights to get drafted, and he answered. Not only did God answer
my prayers, but in my opinion he over delivered. I never prayed to be a number
one draft pick I just wanted the opportunity to play pro ball.
Over the years, I wholeheartedly admit that I had gotten away from God after my
prayers were answered.
He graciously sent me warnings but I ignored them.
I will never forget that one winter I was home in the off-season. My friend's mom
made a note to mention to me that she noticed that when I did my interviews in
high school, I always mentioned God, and now she noticed, as of late, I did not as
much.
She had been watching me closely as all angels do, and she had a word for me
that day, but I brushed off her revelation. Yet she was telling the truth.
I knew it. I felt it. I just couldn’t psychologically wrap my head around it. I was to
busy dealing with the pressure from the fans and media, to do so.

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The explosion was another warning.

And it was through the grace of God; I didn't die or need back surgery, though I
had fractured my back in two places and had to wear a back brace for a few
months.

I went home, and again, I didn’t do any exercise or do any therapy.

I didn’t want to raise any eyebrows to let anyone know I was hurt.

Instead, I chilled, and in 4 months, I showed up for spring training down in
Baseball City Fl. to attempt a comeback as if nothing had happened, with a bad
shoulder and now, a bad back.

But this time I felt different.

I had a spiritual awakening as a result of my jet ski explosion.

I don’t know how I didn’t die when I was literally sitting on an exploding Jet Ski.

I could walk, talk, and needed no surgery. I didn’t even have a scratch on my
body! It affected me profoundly.

After that, I paid more attention to what God was trying to tell me this time.

A change had to take place.

A change was going to take place. And it did!

I stopped eating any meat other than fish. I started talking to God more and felt
the need to begin growing dreadlocks and reading a lot of spiritual literature.

Dreadlocks for me, at first, was something I was just compelled to do. It was part
of this new journey or form of new enlightenment I was experiencing. I would
realize later; it was about something much deeper; a way of shedding the old Jeff
and forming a new one.

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I returned to spring training the next season, with a contract from the Atlantic
League, another Independent league, but this time with my dreadlocks.
Considering my bad reputation already, my dreadlocks were taken the wrong
way.
They must have thought I was coming with more extreme behavior; I was actually
coming in peace.
To them, I was still a problem kid, a rebel I guess.
They let me play the whole spring training, and I was playing great! Once again,
they told me that I had tremendous talent. Yet, they said, as they released me, they
didn’t have a place for me on the team.  Although, I'm pretty sure it was because
of my hairstyle.
So, I went home again.
And….the cycle just continued, but I did not.
This time I got a call from an independent team in Schaumburg, Illinois.
Schaumburg is a suburb surrounding my hometown of Chicago.
It was close to my home in Oak Park, but by that time I had completely lost the
love for the game, and the passion wasn't there anymore, plus my daughter had
just been born, so I turned down the contract offer to play for the team.
I didn’t know if, at the time, it was a mistake, but what I did know is I couldn’t do
it anymore.
In my mind, I was done with baseball.

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Chapter Sixteen

Encore

F      ast forward two years later.

By now, I'm still not working a job or coaching, I would live off savings from my
playing days and a settlement I received from the Jet Ski explosion.
I stayed home and raised my daughter Asia while my significant other, Maarha,
worked a high paying job that supported us for the most part, at this time.
We balanced each other out.
She was very supportive of our arrangement together, but she knew I had grown
unhappy or at least, dissatisfied with not being as productive as I would like, as I
was still licking the wounds of my failed baseball career.
So, after two long years, after some spiritual growth and maturity of my own…
After finally taking my workouts seriously, and dedicating myself to working on
my body and building my physical and mental strength up strong,
I decided to try to attempt a comeback.

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However, by now, the phone calls from teams had stopped, so I had to take
matters in my own hands, I hopped on a Greyhound bus, a two-day ride to go to
open tryouts with another independent league in Ft. Lauderdale, Fl.  

Now, if you asked me at that time, I am Jeff Jackson, so there has been always a
place for me in baseball. At least that's what I thought!

So, I packed my bags again, kissed Maahra and the baby goodbye, and put myself
on a bus with $100 in my pocket.

I figured I wouldn’t see them again for months, feeling assured that I was gonna
make a team and have a contract signed before we broke camp.

I arrived, and as usual, I played well. I moved along with no one recognizing me
at first.

It wasn’t until they started going around asking various players their names and
experience, did things get a little interesting.

Upon one of the coaches hearing my name, he left and disappeared for a few
minutes, only to return and ask that I come out of the line.

I assumed that now that they knew I was Jeff Jackson. I assumed that revelation
meant I didn't have to go through the various training and try out routines as the
others. I assumed they'd just place me on a team right then, right there.

This time,

It really was different.

This time,

They sent me home before I could even take batting practice.

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Now in my mind, and in my heart as well, I knew right then and there, I was done
officially with baseball. I never played again from that day!
Maybe my teammate Nick "Angel" Delgado, whom I played with on the Will
County Cheetah's, was right.
He once told me the devil was trying to destroy me. Now at the time, I thought he
was certified crazy. I didn't know what to make of his statement, so I brushed him
off and he never mentioned it again.
Fast forward to about 2016; I discovered that someone had created a Wikipedia
page about me. Surprisingly, it had me listed to have played in exactly 666 games
in my entire professional baseball career. 666? Isn't that the devil's numbers?
Coincidence? Needless to say, it scared me a little bit.
Well, that's a life over now, and ironically, before discovering that particular stat,
I never once missed the game or had the urge to play, coach, scout, or even be a
part of baseball ever again…not even to this day! Some people think I'm crazy for
not taking advantage of the baseball opportunities that have presented their self to
me over the years...but I have my own reasons, clearly!
I enjoyed my time in the game, the good and the bad, nor do I hold grudges or
have any ill feelings, professional baseball was an experience I will always
remember and never forget.

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Chapter Sixteen

Screenshot of my Wikipedia page detailing my career and how many games I played in professionally
...

A Screenshot of the conversation between me and Angel about the incident he told me about the devil
trying to destroy me...

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Chapter Sixteen

Me taking a swing in the Home Run Derby at The Heartland League All-Star Game......

115.

Chapter Seventeen

Maahra - My Lifesaver

I      mentioned Mahara's name a few times by now.

She was my last committed relationship after my baseball career and there
through many of my ups and downs, including my Jet Ski accident. She who
would call the hospital to check on me and learn from a nurse that I had come to
the hospital already with "my girlfriend" and she couldn't be my girlfriend. When
it was Maahra all along who was my real girlfriend.
She was there to encourage me to return to baseball for my encore.
She worked and supported our family when I could not.
For that, she is special too me.
Maahra and I would cross paths many times before we actually met and became a
couple.
Years earlier, I had a friend who was dating a girl who happened to be an AKA.
One day I was going thru the AKA members book like a smorgasbord, and I saw
her picture. I asked about her, and my friend's girlfriend told me she had a
boyfriend. So she ended up hooking me up with another AKA girl that was single.
We dated for a quick minute but that relationship didn’t last.

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During one of my many off-seasons, when it was the norm for me to go up to
different colleges and hang out with friends and party. I would see her again at a
party on the Northern Illinois University campus.

I saw her from across the room, she caught my eye again, and I didn't recognize
her immediately as the girl from the book, but it didn't matter. She was there with
her boyfriend, and I was there to see another girl. It wasn't an opportunity to shoot
my shot at her.

Now fast forward two years later, my friend and his AKA girlfriend, who's AKA
book I was originally going through, we're getting married.

I attended the wedding alone, and I was there, as usual, interested in another girl.

I was standing on the podium, as the Best Man, overlooking the crowd, as I was
about to give a speech, I saw Maahra again sitting at a table with her friends.

This is my third time seeing her but never talking to her.

The party was beginning to wind down, some people were leaving, some people
were not, and I was standing with the girl I supposedly interested in.

Maahra happens to walk up to say bye to this particular girl.

I immediately stopped talking to the girl, and asked Maahra if she was leaving,

She told me she had to leave because she had to go to work in the morning.

I asked Maahra to walk her to her car.

She said sure. so, I did! As they say, the rest was history.

We would try to date at that point, on and off for a few months.

One of our first dates is one we still laugh about.

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During one of my many off-seasons, when it was the norm for me to go up to
different colleges and hang out with friends and party. I would see her again at a
party on the Northern Illinois University campus.

I saw her from across the room, she caught my eye again, and I didn't recognize
her immediately as the girl from the book, but it didn't matter. She was there with
her boyfriend, and I was there to see another girl. It wasn't an opportunity to shoot
my shot at her.

Now fast forward two years later, my friend and his AKA girlfriend, who's AKA
book I was originally going through, we're getting married.

I attended the wedding alone, and I was there, as usual, interested in another girl.

I was standing on the podium, as the Best Man, overlooking the crowd, as I was
about to give a speech, and saw Maahra again.

This is my third time seeing her but never talking to her.

The party was beginning to wind down, some people were leaving, some people
were not, and I was standing with the girl I supposedly interested in.

Maahra happens to walk up to say bye to this particular girl.

I immediately stopped talking to the girl, and asked Maahra if she was leaving,

She told me she had to leave because she had to go to work in the morning.

I asked Maahra to walk her to her car.

She said sure. so, I did! As they say, the rest is history.

We would try to date at that point on and off for a few months.

One of our first dates is one we still laugh about.

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Chapter Seventeen

Me and Mahara's first date......

Me and Mahara's at her best friends event in Chicago......

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Chapter Seventeen

Me and Maahra in San Francisco, she is 6 months pregnant with our daughter Asia......

Me and Maahra at home, she is 9 months pregnant with our daughter Asia......

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Maahra isn't the type of girl you can just say anything to, and thought it would get
on my nerve sometime; I have always been attracted to her headstrong ways.

At the time, she lived on the north side, and one night she invited me over to
watch movies. Maahra had let me know she didn't cook and I decided that I order
some Chinese food.

But, instead of ordering the Chinese Food on the north side of town where she
lived so that it can be hot, I, without thinking, ordered the food on the south side
of town where I lived, and so the food was cold when I arrived to her house.

I jokingly told Maahra that she should go warm up the food, as it was the least she
could do since she didn't cook.

She took offense to that.

Without hesitation, she told me to get my food and get out!

She did that to Jeff Jackson, wow!

Two weeks later she would call and apologize. We would go back to dating on
and off again.

But she was also different.

Maahra was the only child from a well to do family who had her own apartment
with nice decor and set up.

She had her own car.

She was ambitious and worked as a General Manager of a Lens Crafter.

Really, I never admitted this to her ever, but she upgraded me, unlike any other
woman I had dated before.

She had her stuff together.

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In fact, when my parents began to hint that it was time for me to make some
transitions, to grow up a bit, and perhaps leave home, it was Maahra’s home that I
moved in. She helped make the transition from baseball easy for me and that's
why she is important to my baseball career and my life.

It is not that she cared at all about baseball. In fact, she didn’t want to date me at
first because I did play baseball. She could care less and was not impressed.

She was a lifesaver for me, I have to admit. I was mentally sick from my entire
ordeal with baseball, and she was there at the tail end of it to help me pick up the
pieces. I had a pattern of making women my outlet, it was true. Maahra developed
into something more. Our relationship lasted ten years, we would have a beautiful
daughter named Asia, and we are still great friends and hang-out as a family until
this day.

We would break up for all the typical reasons and mostly that included me.
Maahra was always trying to get me to do the right thing, but I was still the same
old damaged Jeff.  

I took my issues everywhere with me.

We moved a few times, throughout Illinois, eventually settling in L.A. Where
Maahra wanted to pursue her acting career. And…I could be the new Jeff, with
dreadlocks, and less noticeable to those who wanted to identify me by the young
man they saw on baseball cards, and countless newspaper articles.That particular
guy, the baseball, Jeff, did not have dreadlocks. The baseball, Jeff couldn’t be
caught working a regular job in Chicago, or anywhere in Illinois without being
ridiculed or met with cameras. It would be too embarrassing. The new Jeff in L.A.
did have dreadlocks, and no one was looking for him. I was even looking for him.
I was looking for a new me and a place to allow that transition to happen with
whatever humbling experiences that need to take place.

Life had changed. I didn’t know the process of me growing dreadlocks was the
beginning of my preparation to leave Chicago, leave baseball, and attempt to
disappear into an unidentifiable new me.

I would not return to Chicago for 10 years, not even to see Momma.

Momma would move on to Kansas City before I saw her again.

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Chapter Eighteen

My Why

W         hy would I write this book now? You might ask!

I moved from Chicago and have been in L.A. now for about 15 years.
It has taken me this long to work thru the pain, the guilt, the shame, self-pity and
the self-blame I carried around for a while. I am now 46yrs. old and tired of
being frustrated and broke, and I don't mean financially broke. I mean broke in
spirit and mind. For so many years I felt like I let down the entire cities of
Chicago and Philadelphia, plus my family, my friends, and myself.
L.A has been my safe place.
I disappeared into life in L.A. determined just to be "regular" Jeff and not thee
Jeff Jackson baseball star. I could have started a career as a baseball coach, or
scout, and make money off my name somewhere, but the pain was too great,
even too undefined, or quantified, to bring that type of energy to a young
baseball player still full of hopes and dreams.
I could have pursued an acting career.
Although we went to L.A. for Maarha to pursue her acting career, I was the first
one to get an agent, not even trying. I was simply sitting in a salon getting my
dreads redone, one day, and wondering why this particular white guy was staring
at me, thinking he was possibly sexually attracted to me.

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THE GIFT AND THE CURSE

It turns out he was a legitimate commercial agent, he signed me to a contract the
first meeting I had with him at the office. He tried his best for a whole year to
send me to every audition he could, almost daily. He sent me everywhere, from
T.V. commercials to a few T.V. pilots etc... The truth is I didn’t take being an
actor serious. I had finally had a job at a high-end retail boutique in Hollywood,
my first real job ever in my life at age 31!

I finally had a way to get paid and take care of my daughter, and that was my
priority. I didn't have any real opportunities other than baseball, and right now
Maxfield’s was the most stable gig at the time. Again, I could have gone off and
become a coach or scout somewhere in baseball, but I didn't want that… at least
not now.

I needed simplicity. Acting would sort of put me back in a spotlight that I had
just left and hadn’t quite healed from So, I didn't follow through on many of the
auditions that were scheduled for me. I wasn't in L.A. to be an actor; I was in
L.A. to disappear. My agent eventually dropped me from the talent agency after
a year of me skipping out or was a no-show for most of my auditions.

I could have been a reality TV star.

I was up for three different reality shows at one point, in fact. If you check the
2nd season website of the very popular reality show ‘I Love New York 2', you
would have seen my face. They wanted me on that reality show very bad but the
producers knew I was wasn't attracted to New York, during the interview
process. I said it very bluntly in many talks between us. Instead, they used my
image and a brief excerpt from an interview I did with them, to help promote the
show. I got so much attention from that brief appearance, and so many women
sent me marriage proposals and sexy invitations in what was then my
MYSPACE account, that if I never had any publicity again, I was good then and
forever!

I chose to hide out for many years, working at Maxfield’s.

Maxfield’s was the high-end store I mentioned. It was located in West

Hollywood, where a lot of rich and famous people like to shop. And like every

valued employee, I showed up each scheduled day, I got my raise each year, and

chose to let few people know as possible about who I was and about my baseball

career.

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THE JEFF JACKSON STORY

I only told the hiring managers about my career during the job interview. I had to
explain why I never worked before and why Maxfield’s would be my first job.
Otherwise, a 31-year-old man who didn't have a job history would be assumed to
be a drug dealer, and I was not that!

It was the owner’s girlfriend’s son who discovered my baseball cards on the
internet that brought my celebrity status to Maxfield’s.

There was a rumor mill circulating already about me being an ex-pro ballplayer,
but when he discovered my baseball cards on the internet, that is when people
started bringing baseball cards to work to get them signed, etc. But for years,
Maxfield’s was my ‘incognito' place, they always honored me as a valued
employee and really helping me transition back into the real world quietly, while
getting my life back together.

I would end up leaving the company after 7-8 yrs. Maxfield's was a great
company. It was a great experience, and I needed it. 

Unfortunately, me and Maarha broke up and she would eventually kick me out
the house because I started up the womanizing again, when we got to L.A.

Women were always my outlet.

I wasn’t finished yet.

Maarha would eventually get tired of being my rock and putting up with my
continual ‘merry go round’ of a mess. I’d end up “couch surfing” for a while.
Until I eventually found a roommate. I had that roommate until he’d commit to a
relationship, and leave me to have a nice place in the Hollywood area of Los
Angeles all to myself.

It is in this alone time, in that very same apartment, over the last few years, that I
had to reflect on my life and come face to face with the pain and my demons. I
have dodged reporters who somehow found my number, for years. I still receive
letters from fans who never let me forget what I meant to them or my impact in
baseball.      

125.

A picture of some recent fan mail...

126.

A picture I received from two of my younger fans...

127.

THE GIFT AND THE CURSE

The request for my story never stopped, and the voice in me began to want to be
heard.

And then the time came.

People change when the pain of remaining the same become too great.

My pain had become too great.

And I had to learn to forgive myself and learn to love myself again through the
process of spiritual healing and prayer. This book represents a lifted veil that
now can expose me, show my true self and tell my story, in my own words. I
needed to explain to so many fans, friends and family over the years why my
career had gone the way it did. I needed to free myself from the burden of the
blame, the guilt, and the embarrassment...

I needed to take apart and analyze every dynamic that took part in making me
into the man I am today. I needed to heal.

I was once told that there is healing in sharing your story, freedom in revealing
your truth.

This book represents my truth!

Now that the reader understands I am free and more healed than ever before, I
just want it understood that, if given an opportunity, don’t take advantage of it!
Work hard, have faith, and believe in yourself no matter what people say. And
seek counsel or a mentor or some sort. A closed mouth does not get fed, and only
you are responsible for your healing, so get help!

I tell my children, “Don’t be like me...be better than me.....don’t make the same
mistakes I made!”

Your attitude will absolutely determine your altitude.

128.

Me and my two kids Asia and Jeff Jr. ...

129.

THE JEFF JACKSON STORY

I had a chance to fly…

I soared…

but I dived…

Just make sure you do better!

I want my family, especially my children, Jeff and Asia, friends, and fans to take
something from this book that will hopefully make them want to persevere
through the hard times.

I never gave up,

I just switched gears.

I believe there are no coincidences. Everything happens for a reason!

God intervenes. Who knows? If I had continued with baseball, I'd probably be
dead from a drug overdose or in jail. I was living on the edge because I was
under a lot of pressure and was given a lot of responsibility at such an early age,
with no outlet for help, or at least I thought.

I trust that I am here to survive, and even live life to the fullest, and so should
you!

When it's all said and done, I may have a few regrets, but I wouldn't change a
thing, I believe everything happens for a reason.  I have no ill feelings against
anyone and accept full responsibility for my part in how my career played out.

Baseball is a great sport with great players and great fans.

Baseball will always have its place in the fabric of America.

It served me as best it could….

To sum it all up, It was a gift and a curse!

130.