The first time we talk, Dee Gordon tells me a story. He was playing second this season when his mind drifted to tragedy, right in the middle of a game. It was June, and he was frustrated with his at-bats. He shuffled his feet in the dirt, looked into his glove, narrowed his focus before every pitch. But between pitches…



Why this gotta be like this for me? Why did that happen with my mom? Why is my mom not here to watch me play?



This does not happen often, he says. For a brief moment, his past just swept into the present: a leaf torn from an old tree. He says he quickly told himself, Come on, man, you’re better than that, and readied for the next pitch.



Then he reveals something that stays with me for weeks, although I don’t understand its significance at the time.



“I mean, y’all see me smiling every day,” he says. “You wouldn’t have even noticed when it happened.”



A couple weeks later,...