How KC Royals reliever Lucas Erceg emerged from real darkness into the spotlight

In the Royals’ clubhouse after their 4-1 victory over the St. Louis Cardinals on Sept. 4 at Kauffman Stadium, an exhilarated Lucas Erceg considered the “awesome” atmosphere concocted for his entrance: plunging the field into darkness as he trotted in from the bullpen for what became a ninth-inning save.

The first times he’d entered into that scene, the abrupt lights-out effect had virtually blinded Erceg — who laughed and said he “almost fell on my face because I forgot where the ground was.”

But he promptly learned how to traverse the pitch-black condition: He sets a line before him and keeps his head down, staying straight until the lights come back on and he looks “back up (to) where I am.”

Right into the beacon — a familiar sort of journey for Erceg.

The parallel between finding his way through the gloom to the mound and finding his way when he was stranded in the shadows — and sinking into alcoholism — four years ago resonates with Erceg.

“That’s a good piece-together right there,” he said, smiling, in an interview with The Star this week.

6/10/20

Erceg, the ace of the Royals’ bullpen, is ever-eager to share the story of his sobriety for a number of reasons.

That includes to help hold himself accountable, de-stigmatize talking about the disease and encourage others to seek help and support.

Because where he once constantly sought to fix blame elsewhere, he’s learned that this ultimately is all about one’s own responsibility and choices and behavior — including, in his case, what some might consider making himself vulnerable by being public about it.

But he wants it known that “you’re allowed to” be a visible part of the solution. Or at least a comforting role model.

“Society isn’t going to look down on you because you have a problem,” he said. “Society is going to look down on you if you don’t do anything about it. That’s not right, morally, ethically, socially. If you’re doing something wrong, do something about it.”

The day he started doing something about it has been telegraphed through his old Oakland A’s glove, embroidered with the date 6/10/20.

The date, his sober birthday, will be rededicated on the new glove that was to arrive Thursday bearing the Royals’ logo and color embellishments.

“It’s going to look mint,” said Erceg, who was acquired from the Athletics at the trade deadline in late July.

Less visibly but more bluntly, Erceg can tell his tale through the tattoo on his right hamstring, which is derived from Belgian artist Thomas Lerooy’s sculpture “You Were On My Mind” — part of Lerooy’s exhibition on the “Seduction of Destruction.”

Described by the Belgian gallery rodolphe janssen, the collection examines subjects who “are no longer themselves but become fragmented and dismembered, literal physicalizations of their shortcomings.”

As for the specific piece now affixed to Erceg’s leg, it emphasizes that “inside the bottle only a head, perhaps once joined to the arm, struggles with the possibility to escape.”

Or as Erceg put it: “If that doesn’t kind of paint a picture of what I think alcohol was doing to me in my life, I don’t know what would.”

Your Guide to KC: Star sports columnist Vahe Gregorian is changing uniforms this spring and summer, acting as a tour guide of sorts to some well-known and hidden gems of Kansas City. Send your ideas to vgregorian@kcstar.com.

‘Everyone’s out to get me’

Citing personal reasons, Erceg declined to speak about any potential root issues he had beyond that he “didn’t have the best childhood” back home in Campbell, California.

But his drinking began to have an obvious impact when alcohol helped derail his career at the University of California at Berkeley.

But he reset so nimbly at Menlo College that in the 2016 MLB Draft he was selected 46th overall by Milwaukee — a prominent enough spot to merit a $1.15 million signing bonus that he has said in the past went a long way toward buying beer.

As he grappled with making good on becoming a corner infielder and struggled with the doldrums and stress of a long minor-league career, he increasingly self-medicated with alcohol.

“I kind of had that mindset of, like, ‘Everyone’s out to get me; nobody wants to help me; I have to do all this myself,’” he said. “When you think about it, it’s like you dig yourself into a hole. The last thing you want to do is ask for a hand to help get out, right? Because it’s nobody’s fault but yours. …

“And then the further away that hand gets, the further away you think asking for help is going to even be realistic, right? But at a certain point, you can’t dig anymore. Because you hit rock bottom.”

‘What am I doing?’

Erceg struck rock bottom amid the pandemic that began in 2020 — when alcohol consumption increased more than at any time in the previous 50 years, according to a National Institutes of Health report, and as alcohol-related deaths rose 38 %.

With the minor-league season canceled, he plummeted. When his then-girlfriend Emma would leave their Phoenix home in the morning, he settled into a routine:

Play video games. Drink lots of beer and sometimes stronger stuff. Go to a gas station across the street for more.

By the time Emma would return, he would be basically just where he was when she left ... but drunk, with 12-15 beer cans next to his PlayStation.

Finally, she couldn’t stand it anymore. She told him she was going back to California and giving him a week, he recalled her saying, “to kind of figure things out, or else I’m not coming back.”

Initially, even that didn’t move him.

“I was like, ‘She’ll come back, whatever,’” he said.

But after a couple days of continuing to drink, and Emma not coming back, he succumbed to reality.

“‘What am I doing?’” he asked himself.

Answer: “I’m purposely sabotaging my relationship because of … because of what?”

Through all the haze, something became clear. He knew he had to do something different, a feeling he embraced with intense conviction.

While Emma provided the initial motivation, he also knew he had to do it for himself.

So much so that he didn’t turn to Alcoholics Anonymous (though he calls himself a “huge believer” in what it has done for so many).

He simply declared to her that he was done drinking and went “cold turkey. Boom. Gone. Done. Not looking back.”

But a new tier of challenges loomed.

‘Day 1 of the rest of my life’

Erceg made the momentous decision on June 9, 2020.

But when he went to bed that night, he said, “Everything was so dark, mentally, physically. It was unlike anything I’ve ever experienced before.”

Everyone’s experience is different, of course, but some will characterize that as mourning the loss of a close friend.

Still, letting go had one instant benefit.

When he woke up the next day, he had a fresh lens toward a new lease on life.

“Everything was beautiful. Everything was euphoric. Everything was, like, brighter,” he said. “It’s weird, it sounds cliché, whatever you want to call it. But it was like, ‘Wow, this is Day 1 of the rest of my life.”

That was a crucial foundation for what awaited Erceg.

Because the next few months, he said, “were miserable” as his body essentially detoxed and tried to adapt to the new Erceg.

He couldn’t sleep. He could barely drink enough water to get through the day. He lost a lot of weight.

But he was resolute — and aimed to prove it to himself all the more.

A few months later, waiting for his formal minor-league career to restart in the spring, he set out for Texas to play for the Sugar Land Lightning Sloths of the Independent Constellation Energy League.

“I was out there,” he said, “to see if I could do it on my own.”

While he hit only .180, that was trivial in the moment.

Because this was to make sure he could handle being away from Emma, whom he would marry in 2022.

It was to see how he could contend with new people and strangers without the crutch he’d leaned on so long.

And it was to test himself against unknowns, like when a teammate poured a glass of bourbon and put it on his video-game console.

Erceg was frightened. The glass of bourbon kind of looked good. He also didn’t want to offend his friend.

But then he removed his headset and took a couple steps back and said, “I’m just going to share this with you: I’m three months sober.”

The pivotal scene became liberating and empowering.

Erceg realized there not only was no shame in saying that, but also that it was a way to fortify his own boundaries. And his friend, being a real friend, understood and even apologized.

“It was such a scary moment,” he said. “But that kind of solidified my sobriety and where my head was.”

‘Phenomenal’ watermelon

Next thing you know, Erceg’s career relaunched in 2021 thanks to another point of clarity: moving away from playing the infield toward pitching full-time.

He soon began to blossom and, finally, moved steadily up the minor-league ladder toward making his major-league debut with Oakland in 2023.

Now, at 29, he’s become a crucial part of the Royals as they seek their first postseason berth since 2015.

As much as he wishes he could have stopped drinking sooner, he also knows that part of his broader maturation was sparked by the journey into sobriety.

Something he cherishes every day.

He feels it in the value of learning how to do things the right way. And in owning his mistakes and no longer basking in chances to sulk.

It’s in loving his wife and their lives together with two cats and, hopefully in the future, a few kids. And in looking to help others dealing with similar issues more formally down the road.

And it’s getting to play baseball at Kauffman Stadium — where he loves his teammates and this opportunity and even the “phenomenal” watermelon that he tries to eat a big bowl of every day he’s there.

And a place he can revel in the sort of light best appreciated after emerging from the darkness.