Conrad's long road back from Game 3 misery

Long before any Braves teammate thought to call Brooks Conrad “Dirt Dog,” before he started using handfuls of infield clay to dry his barehanded grip on the bat, his mother issued a challenge.

“Don’t ever come home in a clean uniform,” Gail Conrad always told him.

Getting filthy became a way of life for the Braves utility infielder. Playing his heart out got him to Arizona State, through nine years in the minor leagues and finally into the last spot on the Braves’ 25-man roster last spring.

It had always given him confidence to keep going, living out of a storage unit and at times apart from his wife Jessie, when even his mother would ask if he was sure he wanted to stick with baseball.

“He used to look at me like I was insane,” she said.

His hustle mentality had always been enough. That is, until last Oct. 10. Conrad committed three errors in a Game 3 loss in the Division Series against the Giants, leaving him with the kind of stain no bleach can touch.

Buster Posey’s one-hop ground ball in the ninth inning slipped under his glove and through his legs, allowing the winning run to score. The Braves lost the series the following night with Conrad on the bench.

“I wish I could just dig a hole and go sleep in there,” he’d said.

It was the seventh error in eight games for Conrad. In his second week of emergency starting duty for the injured infielder Martin Prado, doubt had not only crept in, it had set up camp. Any ball hit his way seemed toxic.

In the first inning of Game 3, Conrad bobbled a double-play ball. Then he dropped a pop-up to right field in the second.

When Posey handcuffed him in the ninth, Conrad’s wife Jessie was in the concourse at Turner Field, taking their 3-year-old son Jaxon to the bathroom. She hadn’t even seen the play. But she heard booing and her heart sank.

“I was like, ‘Oh my gosh, please no,'” Jessie said.

***

Part of what made that night so stunning was its contrast to how Conrad’s whole season had gone -- unbelievable, but in the opposite way.

Not only had he endeared himself to fans with his effort, he had become a late-game hero, hitting seven of his eight home runs in the seventh inning or later, including a pinch hit walk-off grand slam to shock the Reds in May.

Two of the most poignant moments of the Braves’ season – good and bad -- had come at the hands of the 30-year-old rookie, hands that eventually failed him come October.

“It's a whole lot to swallow but I'll try to do my best to get over it,” Conrad had said to a throng of media members Oct. 10. “But it's something you're probably not [going to] for a long time, if ever."

Conrad took steps that night in the clubhouse, after teammates like Tim Hudson and Chipper Jones reminded him the Braves wouldn’t have made the playoffs without him. Across the hall, in the Braves family lounge, closer Billy Wagner met a sobbing Jessie with a hug.

“He said ‘‘This is going to be OK,’” Jessie said. “'We all love Brooks. I love to have him backing me up. It’s OK.'”

His parents, in-laws, wife and two children huddled around Conrad at home that night. Not knowing exactly what to say, his mom sang to him, lyrics about holding his head high. His son, only 3, sensed something was wrong and hugged him, saying “I love you, Daddy.”

“He’s not the kind of guy who wants to sit down and talk it all out,” Conrad’s father Jerry said. “He’s more reserved, like ‘I’m OK. I’ll get through this.’”

Lying in bed that night, Jessie brought up his old friend Mike Coolbaugh, the Rockies’ Double-A first base coach who was killed during a game in 2007 when he was struck in the head by a line drive, leaving behind two children and a pregnant wife. They’d been teammates in Triple-A Round Rock.

“You’re still here, you’re still playing baseball,” Jessie said. “You still have your kids. Your wife still has you; your kids still have you.”

They talked until 3 or 4 a.m. Conrad slept little, if any.

The next morning, standing in the yard with his father as his two young kids played, Conrad’s father tried to put it in perspective another way.

“I said ‘Brooks, you’re just playing baseball, you know?’” Jerry said. “'The fans make it seem like it’s a do-or-die thing. Of course it’s big business, there’s a lot of money involved. But it’s just a game. If you love it, just play the game and don’t worry about all the rest.'”

***

Instead of flying straight home to Gilbert, Ariz., with his wife and kids, Conrad drove cross-country last October. He stopped in Texas to visit an old childhood friend and play golf. By the time he got home, his wife noticed a difference.

“It was amazing,” Jessie said. “It just seemed like he was fine. This has probably been our best offseason.”

For the first time in his career, Conrad had a new house to come home to, not a rental property. He bought Jaxon a bike and rode the neighborhood with him. He marveled at his 1-year-old daughter Reese talking in complete sentences. He fixed the sprinklers, hung shelves in the garage and enjoyed a little obscurity again.

When it came time to start working out again, he was ready.

“You can’t go back and erase what happened,” Conrad said. “The thing you have to do is understand what happened. All you can do is learn from it and move on.”

He didn’t obsess, like he had the day after the three-error game, when he took hundreds of grounders trying to get comfortable again. He went back to his usual routine, working out at Arizona State.

He didn’t see a sports psychologist. He didn’t ceremonially burn the glove.

“It’s still a good glove,” he said.

***

Periodically this winter, Conrad’s wife or parents would ask how he was doing. The answer was the same: Good.

Friends, family and fans all wanted to know the same thing. Will he get his confidence back?

Sports Illustrated came calling this winter, but Conrad turned down the interview, not wanting special attention.

“It’s not something to really over-think or over-analyze,” Conrad said. “Throughout the course of a season there are games like that, that you like to forget. It was on a little bit bigger stage. It got magnified a little bit.”

The answer has to wait until spring training anyway, when he puts a uniform back on and ground balls start coming his way. Braves’ position players report Feb. 18.

“I hope this spring goes amazing, that he’s completely comfortable and happy,” Jessie said. “He seems super-excited and ready to go.”

His mother thinks he will be.

“I know what Brooks is like,” Gail Conrad said. “He’s not a quitter. He’s not a person who’s going to say, ‘Oh, god, I can’t deal with this.’ He’s strong.”

He looked it 10 days ago when he flew to Atlanta to take part in the Braves Caravan. He pulled a crisp white jersey over his shirt and stepped off the bus to come face-to-face with fans at the first stop at Ft. Benning.

His jersey had No. 7 on the back, rather than his old No. 26, a number new teammate Dan Uggla had requested. For Conrad, it’s about the uniform, not the number.

Only a few fans out of hundreds he greeted in stops at Ft. Benning, Montgomery and Auburn brought up the Division Series.