“I think about that every day.” As part of the divorce settlement, Dykstra ceded his big-league pension to his wife. “I’ve never told anyone this before, because I was ashamed.“That’s ,500 to ,000 in cash a month,” he said. But the first thing I’m going to do when I make some cash — and I will when I settle that lawsuit — is pay Cutter back. “I didn’t lose the money on purpose, but that doesn’t matter.” Cutter and his actress wife, Jamie-Lynn Sigler, have a 3½-year-old son, Beau, Dykstra’s only grandchild.And he notes the debts — both spiritual and financial — he owes them all. When the youngster netted 0,000 as Milwaukee’s second-round pick in 2008, Dykstra talked him into investing it in his Players Club magazine, a venture that, along with the cash, disappeared a year later.“My family didn’t deserve all that happened,” he said. This will give her stability for rest of her life.” In typical fashion, though, before he agreed to give her the money, he tried to get her to agree to have sex with him once a month. He vowed to pay his son back with money he anticipates from the lawsuit he filed, for an unspecified amount, alleging that he was brutally beaten in jail by Los Angeles County sheriff deputies in 2012.“My first chapter couldn’t have gone better,” Dykstra said, “the big leagues and the money. The next night, he filed another from a Rite Aid where he was getting a blood pressure test.
A onetime beat writer for the Phillies, Eagles, and Penn State football, he also has covered nine Olympics.
He has videoed himself giving brief “commencement addresses” that advise high school and college graduates how to get ahead.
He has even posted on Twitter this quotation from an ancient Jewish sage: “Rabbi Joshua said the evil eye, the evil inclination, and hatred of one’s fellow man drives a man from the world.” He listens to New Age philosopher Sam Harris’ soothing meditations on life and death.
In so many other ways, though, he appeared to be the old Dykstra, the perpetually restless, crude, self-involved spark plug of the pennant-winning 1993 Phillies who rudely bulldozed anything in his way, whether it was a catcher, an autograph-seeker, or a business associate. When you went through what I went through, every day I’m above ground is a good day. I’ve got no time to blame people.” In 2008, his net worth was estimated at million. It’s almost like that Icarus dude that flew close to the sun and was warned not to. J., fixer-upper he got in a short sale arranged by a friend. He has come to rely on the kindness of those who, like the local physician, never deserted him. He frequently crisscrosses America in the same seemingly random way he used to ramble around a clubhouse.
But now, after bankruptcy, divorce and three years in a California prison, where he discovered books and lost three teeth, a strikingly different persona occasionally surfaces, that of a contrite and introspective 54-year-old who hopes to forge a new life from the messy detritus of a previous one destroyed by greed and ego. I still haven’t decided what my epitaph’s going to be.” When he was a headstrong, head-first ballplayer pumped up on steroids; taking handfuls of pills before, during, and after games; and thumbing his nose at convention and the world beyond the narcissistic bubble he inhabited, many believed Dykstra’s epitaph would have been written by now. But that soon vanished in a dizzying flurry of bankruptcies, lawsuits, criminal charges, and divorce. One June afternoon, he was in California in the Bel Air Country Club card room posting a rudimentary online video report on a Mets loss.