When AC/DC Loses its Cool (One Sixty-Two: Day 25)

Writer’s note: One Sixty-Two is a season-long series of blog posts connecting baseball’s major-league players to life’s universal themes. Just as there are 162 games in a season, so there will be 162 posts in this series. Let’s play some ball.

Day Twenty-Five: Trevor Hoffman, Milwaukee Brewers

I’m officially a generation older than my students now, even without the gray hair. But at 39 years of age, and with young kids at home, I feel as though I’m able to connect with teen-agers and show my own understanding of their world pretty well. I don’t know all their favorite songs, but I know enough. I don’t try to use the cool slang words of the moment, but I try and speak to teens like someone who’s aware of their world.

Sometimes, though, I wonder when that connection will stop. When will I start to appear out of touch in the eyes of my students? When will I start to seem like a guy who’s era has long since passed? Will that ever happen? Can I avoid it and find some fountain of youth within my classroom, or is my day of reckoning inching ever so close?

You can’t stop and think about these things too often, because you’ll find yourself trying too hard. But it crosses the mind briefly, and you let it sit for a minute before moving on with the lesson plans. I was thinking about this the other day as I looked at this year’s statistics for Trevor Hoffman.

At age 42, Hoffman is a certain Hall of Famer. He has saved 596 games, more than any baseball player in history. He’s been an All-Star many times, he’s played for nearly 20 years, and he’s made tens of millions of dollars thanks to his ability to get three quick outs in the ninth inning of close games. When he retires, Hoffman’s number 51 will be retired in San Diego, where his entrance into Padres games for 16 years brought a mix of heavy metal and heavy cheers.

But so far this year, Hoffman has been brutal. He’s pitched 13 innings for the Brewers and yielded 16 runs. He’s allowed an average of almost two runners on base per inning. Already this year, he’s given up three times as many home runs as he did all of last season.

So is this it? Is this where Hoffman becomes the old fogey who feels the sting of spitballs on the back of his neck? Is this where he starts beginning his sentences with the words “In my day”? Is this where the AC/DC song to which he’s entered games for years becomes Perry Como-esque to the ears of the modern fan?

Or is it just nothing more than a bad start? It is, of course, only mid-May. The baseball season, like a school year, is a marathon. And there’s always time to find your inner cool once more.