Unexpected Detours
Jeff Francoeur
Pro athletes in any sport go through peaks and valleys, but the rollercoaster ride in baseball is particularly dramatic. With so many games in the season, the highs can turn into lows within a day. At least football players can ride the good feelings of a productive day for a week, but during my 15 years in Major League Baseball my fortunes often seemed to change like the weather.
I was drafted in the first round by my hometown team, the Atlanta Braves, right out of high school in 2002, and two years later I was named the top prospect in the Braves organization. But in July 2004, the day before I was supposed to be moved up from A to AA, I was hit by a fastball, an accident that fractured my orbital bone and my nasal passage and required seven-plus hours of surgery. I recovered and got the call to the big leagues in 2005, where I opened my major league career with a three-run homer and a Sports Illustrated cover. The next eleven years were a flurry of hot streaks and slumps; I played for eight different major league teams and dipped down into the minors four times.
I’m grateful for the opportunities I had in baseball, for the fact that I got to play the game for fifteen years and for the moments of glory along the way. But I’m also grateful for the low points, because they kept me from finding my significance in my success on the diamond. Through all of it, my faith and family have helped me keep my perspective fixed firmly on the things that don’t change.
Before I was hit by that pitch early in my career, I trusted God with maybe 70 percent of my life, but I thought I could handle the baseball part on my own. I had everything planned out: The move to AA, then training camp and the fulfillment of my dream—the call to the big leagues. But one instant—I squared off for a bunt and the next moment I was bleeding on the ground at home plate—put it all into doubt. I was furious at God through those early days in the hospital after my surgery, but that ordeal forced me to face the fragile nature of baseball success and reassess my own ability to control my life.
My mom spent hours at my bedside in the hospital, and every day she read Joshua 1:9: Be strong and courageous. Do not be afraid; do not be discouraged, for the Lord your God will be with you wherever you go. I had plenty of time to think and pray, and I slowly understood that we aren’t guaranteed blessings just because we work hard. The blessings come through trusting in God’s presence and finding our strength in Him.
God isn’t a slot machine or a genie. I can’t expect to get three hits in a Sunday afternoon game just because I go to chapel that morning. It doesn’t work that way. Every at-bat I had after my accident was God's provision for me. I truly don't think I ever would have been able to handle the ups and downs after that if not for the perspective I gained after being hit by that fastball. That happened on July 7, 2004 and believe it or not my debut in the big leagues was on July 7, 2005. Exactly one year after I walked through that valley I embraced my dream as a display of God’s grace.
As my career progressed through twists and turns, I faced each event with a contentment in Christ and in His plan for me. It was that framework that gave me so much peace when I realized, in 2016, that it was time to retire from baseball. I had finished a good season with the Marlins and I still thought I would play somewhere else the following season. But the only offers I had were from teams out west, and my wife didn’t want to move our young and growing family (two small children and one on the way.) As I was considering my options, I received a call out of the blue from Fox Sports, asking me to call select games the following season. My career as a broadcaster has taken off; in my first season CBS asked me to broadcast the playoffs, and today I’m the lead analyst for the Braves, and I had the opportunity to work the playoffs again in 2020. I’m still in the middle of baseball without the all-consuming nature of being a player.
I think my eventful baseball career has helped me become a good broadcaster, because I’ve kind of experienced a little bit of everything. I know what the person who's having an All-Star year feels like, and I can also know what the person who gets sent down or released feels like. God has made something beautiful out of every stop on my journey, the parts that I wanted and the parts that once seemed like unwelcome detours.