Tobacco has been a part of my life for a long time. I am not proud of my tobacco addiction. It was always staring me in the face during my baseball playing days. I regret ever starting the nasty habit. I have tried to quit many times, all unsuccessfully. I'm writing about it today because I am embarking on the journey of being tobacco free once more.
My first taste of tobacco came my sophomore year of high school. I had just moved from the Cincinnati area to Piedmont Oklahoma. A 6A school to a small 4A farming community outside of Oklahoma City. I didn't fit in right away because I was a "city boy." I didn't drive a big truck. I didn't listen to country music religiously. The only common ground I had with many of the guys at my new school was sports.
Baseball season rolled around. I was starting to fit in a little more. Life was good. I was the starting shortstop for the team. I had proven myself to be all right in their book. We were on the bus heading back from a game we had won. I was sitting at the back of the bus with the seniors when the second baseman pulled out a can of Copenhagen Snuff.
He packed the Copenhagen and put a fat dip in his lower lip. Then he asked if I wanted one. I couldn't say no, even though I had no idea what I was doing. He packed the can and told me how to do it. By now all the seniors were gathered around me. There was no turning back now. I reached into the can and put a big fat dip in my mouth. It burned. Snuff was getting all over my mouth as I packed it into my lip. I was sitting on a ball bucket in the aisle. I started getting light headed. They all told me this was perfectly normal and I would soon start to fill like I had to shit. As soon as we arrived back at the school I rushed off of the bus and headed straight to the bathroom. This is what we call in the business "Double Jeopardy." I was so sick. Spraying out both ends.
I would like to say this was the last time I did tobacco but I can not. Everyday I was offered a dip, or a chew for the rest of the baseball season. Before I know it I was addicted to the tobacco. I would have a dip during class. Cleverly spitting down the straw of my drink so I wouldn't get into trouble. I couldn't wait to get to practice so I could chew without having to hide it. It was a bonding kind of thing I suppose. We would sit around the clubhouse with a chew in our mouths, sharing a spittoon, talking about baseball and girls.
Time went on and I left for college. My tobacco use was at an all time high now because I didn't have to hide it from my parents. Almost all of the baseball team chewed tobacco. One of my favorite times is when the team did a fundraiser at the Kansas Speedway. The Skoal and Timberwolf tent gave out free logs for every empty can you took them. We would make the guys on the team who didn't use tobacco go to the tent with one of our empties. By the time our fundraiser was over we all had enough dip to last us the entire season. My freezer was filled with cans of all different types and flavors.
Four years of college came and went. I always thought that when I was finished playing baseball I would quit my habit easily. I was wrong. I put away the chewing tobacco and switched to cigarettes. I was told that one chew was equivalent to four cigarettes. I thought that this would make it easy to wean myself off of tobacco. Again, I was wrong.
I began smoking regularly. It was more socially acceptable in the professional world. Work hard and then sneak outside every so often for a smoke break. It broke up the monotony of the workday. It formed friendships with people from other departments. We all had that nasty habit in common.
Over the years I tried to quit several times. My professional life took me on the road. Living out of a suitcase with long hours and not much free time. Sometimes having a smoke was the only thing that kept me sane and sometimes it was the only thing that kept me awake while driving cross country. When I gave all that up to move to Kansas, I started working in the bar where I am currently employed. We all know that drinking and smoking are synonymous.
Last year I decided I was done with cigarettes and chewing tobacco. I went and got the patches. I was tobacco free for about three months and then my birthday rolled around. I was out celebrating with my friends, really tying one on. My friend lit up a cigarette and the aroma immediately made me crave one. I asked him to bum me one. He told me no because he knew my struggle with quitting. I told him it would be ok, and I only wanted one for my birthday. This started the addiction right back up again because one turned into ten. Then the next day all I wanted was a cigarette to help my hangover. Before I knew it I was back to being a full time tobacco user.
I am writing about this now because I am about to embark on the arduous journey of quitting tobacco once more. I know it will not be easy, but I know it will benefit me in the long run. I guess this is one of the signs of growing older. I have realized my mortality and want to take the necessary steps to living a longer and healthier life. If I'm not going to quit the whiskey, I need to quit the tobacco. I will miss it dearly, but I know it is the right thing to do.
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