Sports fans are prone to revisionist history in a teeth-gnashing, mildly masochistic way. We attempt to rationalize and rewrite the past in a foolhardy exercise passed down from generation to generation. What if we hadn’t traded so-and-so? What if the ping pong balls bounced differently? What if that ball dropped foul?

Few names in the world of sports get the What If? wheels spinning faster than Darryl Strawberry. The dude had it going on- built like a gazelle with a sweet left-handed stroke that elicited comparisons to Ted Williams, Darryl Strawberry seemed poised to be a generational talent. Sadly, the promise would go largely unfulfilled- Strawberry would spend much of his career pushing a rock up a hill, only to have it come rolling back down before he could reach the top.

In retrospect, the little red flags were apparent early on. Strawberry had a killer freshman campaign, winning the NL Rookie of the Year- a year later, he made his first All-Star team. At the same time, Darryl was feuding with teammates, sleeping through practices and publicly criticizing his manager. He seemed a reluctant superstar- driven by ego and talent, but unwilling to cope with the attention and pressure his performance created. In the end, his demons would get the best of him as his well-documented issues with drugs and alcohol ran roughshod through his life.

Today, Darryl Strawberry is a reformed man. He and his wife Tracy work as motivational speakers “restoring lives and relationships through the power of God and the process of change.” I’m glad for him- the alternatives were considerably worse. His career numbers are still pretty electric, and he won 4 World Series to boot. Fairly or unfairly though, Darryl seems unlikely to escape the shadow of what could have been.