AT MIDDAY, he sat in the center of a room with 150 drunks and drug addicts and listened to a man named Dan tell how Alcoholics Anonymous meetings helped him battle the demons of booze, dope and HIV.
Eight hours later at Yankee Stadium, he would step into the most famous uniform in sports and help the Yankees sweep the Braves with a 4-1 victory in Game 4 of the 95th World Series.
In The Bronx, he would be cheered for every swing of a wooden bat that had the ability to take a 95-mph fastball from John Smoltz over the wall and move the Yankees one step closer to finishing the NL champions.
After all these years, all the late nights and all the bad decisions, he was still as big a sports name in this city as any of them.
Now, in a basement on the West Side of Manhattan, Darryl Strawberry was far removed from the spotlight of being a baseball hero.
As the clock struck 12:30 p.m., Strawberry was just another human being trying to shoo away his demons for another day.
“Him,” a woman named Diana said, pointing in Strawberry’s direction after the 60-minute meeting had broken up. “He’s no different than any of us in here. He is a f—–‘ drunk just like the rest of us. Nothing special at all. We don’t treat him any different and he doesn’t treat us any different.”
As the crowd headed for the door that would deliver them to a warm October afternoon, one that they hoped wouldn’t end up with whiskey in their hands or cocaine in their noses, about 30 stopped to hug Strawberry. Only one woman even mentioned the Yankees.
At this point in the day, Strawberry was not No. 39 in pinstripes. At this moment, he was working on recovery, a sometime thing with others; a full-time deal with him. And no guarantees for both.
“Every day,” Strawberry told The Post on the way out. “Every day that I can go to a meeting, I go. This place has become very special to me. Here, I am nobody. Here, we are all family trying to stay sober and away from using drugs. [Diana] was right.”
Very soon, Strawberry will split New York for his new home in Tampa. Possibly as soon as Saturday if the Yankees ride up the Canyon of Heroes tomorrow. He has left California to live on the west coast of Florida solely because he is comfortable with the support people he has met in Tampa.
They must be special because Strawberry isn’t leaving a bunch of faceless people on the West Side. The hugs and handshakes told you that as comfortable as Strawberry is in the batter’s box, he is even more so in this group of people represented by every walk of life.
Young. Old. Black. White. Male. Female. Women so attractive they could be supermodels; others who were ridden hard and put away wet. Well-dressed. People in clothes you know they slept in. Booze-free for 12 years. Sober for eight days. Coffee drinkers. Cola inhalers. Camels smokers. Gum chewers. Eyes with hope. Faces with despair. People that will win the battle of recovery. People who fell off the wagon last night.
Dan talks for 40 minutes and not a breath is heard. The late arrivals seemingly tip-toe in on cotton. Dan started drinking at age 6 and took up drugs as a teenager.
His story isn’t a new one to the ears in the room but they are listening to every word. Afterward, people share their experiences with the group after they introduce themselves as an alcoholic or drug addict. Or both.
The hat is passed for money to defray the expenses and Strawberry kicks in. An unwritten rule is that you put your plastic chair with metal legs off to the side of the room so the next activity doesn’t have to do extra work. Strawberry, who has every whim taken care of in the Yankee clubhouse, picks up five chairs.
When it’s time to leave, Strawberry walks into the sunlight. Some will look at Strawberry having come full circle. A year ago he had just undergone colon-cancer surgery and didn’t know if he would live.
In April, he was busted for possession of cocaine he never used. He admitted he had stopped attending meetings like yesterday’s where people with the same disease support each other in a battle that goes on every minute of every day.
Last night he was the starting DH for the Yankees in a World Series game, going 1 for 3 with two strikeouts.
Yet, you watched Strawberry in that room yesterday and all his talk about how staying sober and clean is the No. 1 priority in his life came gushing into the room without him saying a word.
Removed from the bright lights of Yankee Stadium and the national television stage, Strawberry was exactly what Diana says he is: just another guy with big problems trying to win the battle today.
At that moment, the World Series may as well have been played on the moon.