back!” an officer yelled at me as he cut off my path to Dave.
“I was just getting my buddy and we were leaving” I replied calmly.
“It’s too late for him!” the officer shouted in my face, clearly hyped up and overreacting to the situation. He pushed me backward and my hands went up to let him know that I was not there to cause problems. As my hands went up, I was taken down from behind by another officer. I was now lying on the street face down. I had no idea what was going on with Dave. I had several officers on top of me trying to get me in handcuffs. I was face down with my arms outstretched. Then my left arm was ripped behind my back.
“Give us your right arm!” They screamed at me.
The rough pavement burned against my face as they grabbed my hair from behind and slammed my head into the pavement repeatedly. They were completely out of control, acting like they were in a war zone. I stayed calm, able to find the zone, keeping my emotions under control and not reacting with my usual tendency to fight back. I was also protecting my right arm, however, knowing that any damage could harm the way I made a living.
As I tried to push more into the zone and silence the chaos around me, I was jolted by a strong punch to my ribs. The officers had pulled out their metal clubs and were repeatedly beating me on my side trying to get me to roll over. The officers were slamming my forehead against the pavement and taking batting practice on my ribs. I was taking a beating in public on the streets of Tampa! They ripped my right arm behind my back and cuffed me. However, before sitting me in the back of the police car, they took one final blow and slammed my head against the car. I had no idea what was going on, but there I was, after what started out as a perfect night with my mentor, handcuffed in the back of a cop car. My shoulder ached as my pitching arm was tightly cuffed behind my back, warm blood dripping down my face after being smashed into the pavement and the side of car.
“What happened?” I asked the officer in the driver seat.
“I don’t know,” he replied.
“Why am I in the back of your car?” I continued, my hazy mind catching up to the shock my body was experiencing from the brutality.
“I don’t know,” he repeated.
Well I didn’t know either! I didn’t know where Dave was and didn’t know why I was in the back of a police car. But I did know that I had received a beating by some cops that were out of control, and that I had chosen not to fight back. Which of course was contrary to my normal mode of operation. A sense of relief washed over me as I realized I had won the ultimate challenge; I stayed in the zone, controlled my emotions and didn’t retaliate! The officer driving the car didn’t take me to the police station. He took me to a building in the middle of nowhere and locked me in a cage. It looked as if we were in an old school building. The cage was so small I couldn’t even stand all the way up, and my elbows were touching either side of the cage while my hands were still tightly cuffed behind me. I felt like an animal being caged and taunted. That’s when I saw Dave in the cage next to mine.
“What in the hell happened out there Dave?”
“The guy at the door wouldn’t let me in because I didn’t want to wear the wristband,” Dave said. “He got nasty and threatened me, and then he called the police.”
Internally I questioned if all of this could really be over a wrist band. The guy at the door saw us getting out of the limo. Was the guy at the door being a hard ass because he was jealous of Dave’s success? Was it because Dave was a massively successful athlete and the guy at the door was taking his shot at stardom? Was he discriminating? I had no idea what triggered it, I just knew there was no violence prior to the police arriving, and yet here we were, locked in cages after taking beating, totally unprovoked.
The Police kept us cuffed in the cages for around four hours. During that time, one after another showed up, about 25 in all. Dave and I sat in our cages watching them all collaborate and “get their stories straight.” It was ridiculous and sickening as we listened to the lies they were composing. Officers who hadn’t even been a part of the arrest were coming in and spinning a story about how Dave or I had thrown punches at them, even though we didn’t resist at all. They then unlocked us from the cages, keeping us cuffed, and transported us to the Tampa Police Department. As they walked us outside, there were cameras everywhere from various national media outlets. They booked us at the station, and we posted bail around 5:30 a.m.
We were both charged with battery on an officer, resisting arrest, and then they added one more charge to Dave, disturbing the peace. We were charged for hitting the police, even though it was really just the opposite! The news media went crazy. They took the police reports as fact and ran the stories making Dave and I look like crazy villains running wild in the streets of Tampa. The only comment that Dave and I were permitted to make to the media was, “No comment.” Our case was going to court, and we were coached to say nothing.
I called my parents immediately, to let them know I was ok. I told them that everything on the news was a lie. They trusted me. They knew that every time I made a mistake, I was the first to take full responsibility for my actions. This time, I was letting them know that the media and police department were all lying, and there was nothing we could do about it until the case went to court. But that was one of the main problems; the case was set to go to court in November after the baseball season ended! Basically, that meant that Dave and I were going to be slated as criminals the entire season. “Jailbird! Jailbird! Jailbird!” The taunting chants of the opposing teams’ fans still ring through my memory.
The bombardment of slander and our legal situation continually sent me back into the zone, silencing the undeserved jeers and ignorant opinions Dave and I received during that season. I remember warming up in opposing stadiums’ bullpens and having their fans chant “jailbird” over and over. It was brutal, but with every challenge, I was building my new mindset. I was constantly challenged to not give my mind over to my circumstances, stay in the zone, and be secure in what I knew to be the truth. Everyone knew how fiery I was on the field while competing, so they all assumed that the news coming out of Tampa was true. They didn’t know about my life-changing mentality shift just the week prior. It was a long season with all the distractions. After the 1994 season was cut short, it was time to prepare to go to court.
We were up against the city of Tampa and two dozen police officers who had carefully constructed their stories. It was a jury trial so we were counting on honest citizens to see the truth and decide in our favor. We were up against some serious charges, and if we lost, we could both be facing up to five years in prison. Both Dave and I had our own attorneys, but the case was tried together. The city of Tampa had two attorneys plus the state’s District Attorney. It was crazy that the District Attorney was a part of this case. Typically, the District Attorney would be more focused on hardcore criminals rather than a couple of professional athletes, but that shows how seriously the city was looking at our case. My parents and my older brother Mel Jr. came to support me during the trial. I felt bad dragging my family through the mess with me. We hired a private detective to “get the word on the street” inside the police force. We learned that the running joke inside the Tampa police was that when they won the case, they were going to sue Dave and me so they could all buy boats and name them the Blue Jays. The things that came out in the courtroom were unbelievable.
Every officer testified on the stand under oath, but one of the officers was caught in a lie on the stand. The courtroom went wild. The judge immediately called for order and removed the jury from the courtroom before calling all the attorneys to the stand. The judge told our attorneys that we had a case for a mistrial because the officer had committed perjury on the stand. Our attorneys let both Dave and I know that we could walk from this now on a mistrial. We both said “No way!” We were going pursue this case to prove our innocence. We didn’t hit any officers; we were caught up in a serious police brutality case. We had been through hell, and we wanted to see this through so the truth could come out. We couldn’t win our reputations back on a mistrial.
The trial was tough on my parents and my brother. It was very emotional for them listening to the police tell lie after lie. I stayed calm. I was focused and in control of my mind. I