Baseball Hat Days

On guilt, shame , and remorse and why you never have to feel that way again

In college, St. Michael’s in VT circa 1991-5, I often experienced what I called “baseball hat days.” Mornings (FYI - I’ve always been a morning person, so it may have been late mornings, but it was always mornings for me.) So, a baseball hat morning was when my previous night's antics were so embarrassing and shameful that I had to wear a baseball hat to avoid looking anyone in the eye. I also had to wrangle my brittle mess of tangled hair because any moisture in it had been being sucked out with the copious amounts of alcohol I drank. Wait, Is alcohol a diuretic? (quick Google search, yes, of course it is!)

I have a very visceral memory of being at Libby’s Diner with my bestie Kelly, eating a cheesy omelet and greasy home fries in the hopes of easing my churning stomach and banging head. As Kelly laughed about our previous night, I felt waves of shame crash over me. Each time a new embarrassing moment poked through my black-out haze, I’d lower the cap of my baseball hat and groan. I had what we call in the rooms of AA “guilt, shame, and remorse.”

Oh, how I wish I could go back in time and hug that young adult woman and say, “You need to grieve your brother properly. You need to stop drinking so much. You should major in English Lit. Stop feeling like you’re not smart enough. YOU ARE SMART!” But anyway, you gotta go through what you go through to get where you are, I guess.

So, back to what I called then “baseball hat days” and what I would call now “guilt, shame, and remorse.”

Ugh, that feeling. I can remember it so well. That clench in my jaw, that barbed wire around my chest, that constant hammer in my head saying, “Why did you do that? Why did you drink so much, AGAIN?” Like the Shame scene from “Game of Thrones,” except instead of town’s folk, it was my own voices in my head berating me. Shame. Shame. Shame.

But you know what cures that horrible feeling of guilt, shame, and remorse? Doing community service? Haha, no. Well, maybe, but that’s not how I handled it back then. A little bit of the dog that bites you is a good way to wash away those horrible, embarrassing moments. And another night out, and then rinse and repeat.

Let’s talk about the parable of the Jay Walker found in Alcoholics Anonymous’s The Big Book, Chapter 3: “More About Alcoholism,” on page 37.

The Jay-Walker story compares alcoholism to someone who compulsively runs in front of traffic despite suffering increasingly severe injuries. Despite promising to stop after each accident (broken skull, arm, legs), they continue this self-destructive behavior until losing their job, marriage, and ultimately breaking their back by darting in front of a fire engine immediately after being released from an asylum. The text argues this seemingly absurd scenario perfectly mirrors the alcoholic's incomprehensible relationship with drinking.

When I read this chapter in early sobriety, I was like, “What? This doesn’t make sense. What fucking idiot would run in front of traffic?” I’m sure I skimmed it and didn’t give it much thought.

There was a lot of content in The Big Book I read “loosely” when I first got sober. I knew it was a text published in 1939, and some didn’t apply today. Ahem, the “To The Wives” chapter!!!!

I’ve learned to love old-time language in the Big Book, such as the term "John Barleycorn.” But I’m so excited to report that AA has released The Plain Language Big Book. This new version of The Big Book updates some of the outdated language, making it more inclusive and understandable for today’s society.

I purchased the book and read its section about the Jay Walker. The plain language version uses the pronoun “she” instead of “he.” Way to go, AA!

Back to the Jay Walker, The Plain Language Big Book explains, “ This story may sound ridiculous at first … but is it? If we swapped alcoholism for jaywalking, the story would fit us exactly.”

It goes on to say: “Some people who aren’t alcoholics can stop drinking or control their drinking. Some people who drink without thinking or drink heavily can stop drinking or control their drinking. Their brains and bodies are not affected by alcohol in the same way as ours.

Actual alcoholics will be absolutely unable to stop drinking no matter what. Actual alcoholics will be absolutely unable to stop drinking just because they want to.

Boom, they’ll be hit by a Mac truck and get up and jaywalk across that street again every time!

So, back to baseball hat days. They were the worst, and I hated that feeling, but experiencing guilt and shame was not enough to get me to stop drinking. It would take a spiritual and emotional bottom when I was 38 years old to do that.

I have another visceral memory that luckily counterpoints that moment in the diner with Kelly when I couldn’t pull my hat down any further over my face. That memory recalls the moment after my first meeting when I was surrounded by the women of AA and was told by a woman: “You never have to feel this way again.” I don’t know why I believed that woman that day. But I did, and I could feel the baseball hat being removed from my head, my eyes meeting hers, and that sharp-teethed animal trap around my chest being opened.

PS - Sorry, I didn’t have a St. Mike’s baseball hat, so this UVM one will have to do. I can assure you I had plenty of nights at UVM that caused baseball hat mornings during college.

If you are struggling with your own Baseball Hat days, AA can help. Visit AA.org to find a meeting near you.

Disclaimer: To err is human. Please excuse any typos or grammatical errors. I employ Grammarly, but mistakes happen. In this world of AI, they're my way of keeping things delightfully human.