I quit baseball because I thought you had to pick. I was dumb. I was young.

I started Recommend If You Like because I thought most online spaces catered to either the childless or parenting obsessed. I don’t think I was dumb. I’m far from young.

I’m writing this in the summer of 2026. This thing started in the summer of 2021. Five years ago some social media still felt kinda useful, it still functioned as a tool to bring people together. I think that’s over.

Reading words in print still matters. I know I miss flipping through alt-weeklies and regional magazines and newspapers. So now Recommend If You Like is also a print publication (we’re still online, you can read everything online here – no paywall or pop-up ads or data mining (at least that I know of)). It’s not time to quit.

I don’t want my kids to quit anything because it doesn’t fit their personality. I want my kids to quit because they don’t like things. It’s fine to stop doing optional activities.

My kid just wrapped year 3 of Little League. I’ve volunteered as an assistant coach each year. It’s been a mixed bag. I love it when the kids are happy, I’m infuriated when opposing teams cheat (THOSE CHEATING COACHES ARE CAUSING LONG-TERM DAMAGE TO 6, 7, 8-YEAR-OLDS, ALL OF THE CHEATING WILL BE TAUGHT OUT OF THEM!!!) and I’m consistently thinking about how all of this is temporary.

Temporary isn’t bad. Nothing is forever. But baseball is the one sport that feels like it’ll outlast all of us. A recent rediscovery of baseball cards has increased my thoughts about longevity and the game.

My kid got into Pokémon cards last summer and since I want to encourage that habit (If you’re anti-Pokémon you’re also against the best pitcher in baseball and hate math, the kids learn so much math thanks to Pokémon card games!), I also got him a ton of sports cards. Cards from the junk wax era are incredibly affordable so we’ve each probably opened a few hundred packs from the 80s and early 90s. Sometimes my kid is into it and every time I’m reminded why it’s important to do what you like.

The only cards I collect are of Chicago Cubs and White Sox players. I still like looking at the back of the cards, still like learning tidbits about players that haven’t played in decades. After pulling a few Scott Radinsky cards, I realized I had seen the pitcher throw multiple games at New Comiskey Park in the early to mid 90s. Then I realized I had listened to his band, Pulley, after I quit sports to play in bands.

No athlete may embody the ethos of Recommend If You Like than Scott Radinsky.

The first thing the pitcher, coach, punk rock singer and former skatepark owner Scott Radinsky told us was, “I’m lucky. I’ve ever only had two jobs.”

It took too long to realize those two jobs can co-exist. It is possible to be a world class athlete and touring musician.

An anecdote Radinsky told us about getting to the game was as eye opening as anything going on on the field or stage.

The White Sox player biked from his place to his home field. “In 1990, 91, I leaned the ins and outs of Chicago thanks to bike messengers. I couldn’t keep up with them, but they showed me how to get around the city.” The California native didn’t have a car when he played on the south side. He’d ride the three and a half miles from his place in the South Loop to Bridgeport, taking roads the messengers recommended, and roll on through the player’s entrance, ultimately parking his bike in the clubhouse.

In the early 90s, no other major leaguer was riding his bike into the clubhouse.

Is anyone now?

Throughout his baseball career, Radinsky continued his music career. In the first part of the 90s, the music world was pretty much hidden from the baseball world. The pitcher would occasionally talk about music with teammates, or take over the clubhouse stereo when the clubhouse was mostly empty, but the two seemingly disparate identities stayed siloed. Things started to change with the wider adoption of the internet in the mid 1990s. Around the same time, Radinsky singed a minor league contract to play with his hometown team, the Los Angeles Dodgers. He made it back to the majors, playing alongside Dodger greats like Eric Karros (more on him later in this issue) and Mike Piazza.

One of the most interesting conversations Radinsky participated in on the mound was with Dodger All-Star catcher Mike Piazza. It wasn’t about balls or strikes. Piazza came to the mound to ask the pitcher the name of the band Radinsky was playing in the clubhouse before the game. This is how Piazza learned about the Gorilla Biscuits. This is what’s going on at the mound.

Since leaving MLB as a player in 2001, the pitcher has moved onto coaching, first with Cleveland and then with another hometown team, the Los Angeles Angels. He’s also continued as lead singer of Pulley. Radinsky’s post-playing career is why I wanted to speak with him.

Radinsky didn’t compromise one identity for another. He didn’t quit. He’s still touring. Pulley is doing a European tour this summer. He’s still making things.

I like making this thing. I like making stuff with friends. There’s no reason to stop due to age. I wish I knew that when I quit baseball. I wish I knew Radinsky was doing more than pitching when I saw him throw. It’s too late for me to unquit baseball, but it’s not too late to show my kids they don’t have to choose between sports and art.

This piece is in Recommend If You Like The Baseball Issue Summer 2026. You can find physical copies in bars, cafes and stores in Chicago and Washington, D.C. The newspaper is available for purchase here. 

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