Josh Hamilton

Josh Hamilton today acknowleged the photos of him in a bar in Tempe last January, drinking, dancing with young women, doing shots off them. The photos would be racy by anyone's standards; for Hamilton, they're almost unbelievable. For a recovering alcoholic and drug addict, not to mention a married man with children, photos of a trio of beautiful women doing shots off his shirtless torso are...humiliating? Disappointing? Heartbreaking.

Hamilton issued a statement admitting that the photos were real. "It reinforces one of the things that I can't have is alcohol," he said in a press conference. "...I wasn't mentally fit or spiritually fit. It just crossed my mind 'Can I have a drink?' Obviously I can't. One drink leads to two and two drink leads to 10 or 12. When I was in AA, one saying I heard was one drink is too many and 1,000 is never enough."

I'm not going to link to the photos, because if you want them you can find them, and I don't want to spread those images around if I don't have to.

I've made a habit of putting down millionaire athletes who treat women like toys to be used, treat alcohol and drugs like God-given rights, but I have nothing but the deepest sympathy for Hamilton. Alcoholism is just such a misunderstood condition in our society, because alcohol is so ingrained in our culture.

Hamilton, since collapsing in a heap on his grandmother's doorstep completely fucked up on heroin and alcohol, has been, by the accounts of his those who know him, an exemplary human being, someone who used his love for family, his love for the game, and his love for Christ to pull himself from the absolute lowest ebb to the paragon of American success. What people often don't realize is that it doesn't matter who you are when you're sober: When an alcoholic like Hamilton gets a drink into his system, he may as well be a different person. Loving father? Dedicated athlete? Devout Christian? It gets thrown out the window once you take a sip. I can only imagine the...terror Hamilton's friends and family must have felt when they saw those photos. Seeing an alcoholic relapse is like watching a person die, because the man that was no longer remains.

The frightening part is, who's to say I wouldn't succumb to the same temptations? That you wouldn't? That anyone wouldn't? It's so easy to take one more drink, take one more gorgeous young woman back to your room, take one more puff, pop one more pill. Everyone around you is always encouraging you, reassuring you, hey, it's okay. You don't need to feel ashamed. I do my best to teetotal, but it's around me constantly, and so I drink from time to time. Even then, I can't tell you the number of times I've been called a pussy or a faggot to my face because I didn't want to take a drink. Our society champions alcohol as a manly, virile thing, forgetting that, in the end, it's quite literally a poison.

My heart goes out to Hamilton. I know that's a hollow phrase, but I mean it with every fiber of who I am. If I were to meet Hamilton, I would tell him that love will help him stay strong. I have nothing but sympathy for the pain he has to endure, and nothing but support to offer, as meager as such an offering might be. Hamilton's a Christian, while I'm an atheist; it was in you all along, Hamilton. That's the most beautiful part. It was in you all along.