Mike Norris, reflecting on his career Wednesday, said he was “supposed to be, probably, the greatest right-hander who ever threw a baseball. Ain’t no question about that.”
Instead, he got hooked on cocaine. Norris went 22-9 for the A’s in 1980 but started abusing drugs at the height of his fame. By Jan.1, 1986, he was washed up and camped out in the same crummy bar where he had gone on a New Year’s Eve bender the night before.
That’s when Norris caught a glance of himself in the barroom mirror. He saw himself among the pimps, prostitutes and bums.
“I was no better than the rest of them,” Norris recalled. “I had turned into a loser. It was disgusting to see myself evolve into that.”
With his life on the rebound, Norris returned Wednesday to the site of his greatest glory. He was honored at the Coliseum as one of the “Black Aces” – the 13 African-American pitchers who were 20-game winners in the majors. The four who pitched for the A’s – Norris, Dave Stewart, Vida Blue and Jim “Mudcat” Grant (who authored “The Black Aces”) – were in attendance and each received a crystal baseball and a nice ovation.
Norris, 52, waved to the crowd with one hand and grasped a cane with the other to hold himself steady. He has cervical myelopathy, a compression of the spinal cord in the neck.
“I have something I can’t pronounce,” he joked. “But, in layman’s terms, I am partially paralyzed in the legs.”
Seeing Norris struggle to get around on the diamond was a jarring sight for anyone who saw Norris during his heyday. He was, among other things, a remarkably acrobatic fielder, and won Gold Glove awards in 1980 and ’81.
As a pitcher, Norris was briefly among the game’s best. In ’80, playing under Manager Billy Martin, he threw 24 complete games and finished second in the American League with 180 strikeouts and a 2.53 ERA.
He also finished second in Cy Young Award voting to Steve Stone, but at 25, Norris looked poised for many more Cy Young races to come.
Instead, one of “The Black Aces” started using the white powder.
“I chose to not be appreciative of all the great ability I was blessed with,” Norris said of his drug use. “Sometimes, when you’re young, you think things will always last and what I was into wasn’t going to affect me.”
He said someone offered him cocaine by promising that it wasn’t addictive. Norris was assured it was an elite drug without side effects.
“I quickly found out differently, though,” Norris said. “It’s a very cunning and baffling drug. The addiction comes quick.”
Norris takes tremendous pride in being able to recover from the addiction, noting that it has driven countless others to the grave. He said he kicked his cocaine habit simply through prayer, determination and support from his mother.
“For me to get off that within two years was an incredible thing,” Norris said, “but it was two years that destroyed a character and a career.”
Once, Norris tried discussing his cocaine addiction with Martin, who had a long history with alcohol.
It was not a productive meeting.
“Billy told me, `Damn it, just leave that stuff alone and have your damn drinks,'” Norris recalled with a laugh. “Trying to explain addiction to him? That was a funny thing.”
These days, Norris’ outlook is on the upswing. His walking ability has improved so much in recent years that he even does battle with stairs three times a week. Norris said his goal is a full recovery.
He also said he is involved with a Major League Baseball program that is trying to revive the national pastime in inner cities.
Norris had many baseball heroes, white and black, while growing up, but the one who convinced him that an African-American could make it on the mound was Bob Gibson, another Black Ace.
“That’s when I was totally in awe of pitching,” Norris said.
Once Norris reached the majors, he got a chance to meet Gibson – much to his chagrin. Norris had just blown a lead against the Baltimore Orioles, a game that Gibson spent working as a television commentator.
Gibson came down to the dugout after the game and saw Norris still lingering on the bench, distraught. “He told me to get my glove and go into the clubhouse because I was an embarrassment,” Norris recalled. “I looked up at him and said, `What do you mean, Mr. Gibson?’ He said, `I counted you throwing two balls inside the whole night, and I think both of those were by accident. You have to have some guts.'”
Norris got the picture. From 1979 to ’81, he was among the league leaders in hit batsmen.
And guts?
Norris has pulled himself up from that bar stool. He might not be the greatest right-hander ever, but he’s back in the game. Ain’t no question about that.
“I have a 9-year-old daughter, and that’s what keeps me going,” Norris said. “It’s not what keeps me clean, but that’s what keeps me going. She’s been able to put another 10 years on my life.
“What I took off in the midst of my drug intake, she’s given back.”
Contact Daniel Brown at dbrown@mercurynews.com
