By: Melissa Menashe

Safe at Home:
The Hillmans woke up Feb. 15 knowing their time left together was slipping
away.
Trey Hillmans afternoon flight to Florida for the Houston Astros spring
training awaited. He zipped up his suitcase and loaded his things into the car.
He had everything he needed, including a little perspective.
Stuck to the bottom of his suitcase with doubled-sided tape and hidden by a
folded stack of clothes was a photo of him and his family. It was taken in
Japan in 2003 and has made its home there ever since.
On the hour-long drive to Austin-Bergstrom International Airport, Hillman,
along with his wife, Marie Hillman and daughter Brianna Hillman, reminisced
about their time together over the last four months. They calculated how
long it would be until they would see each other again.
They pulled up to the curb; parking would only prolong the goodbye. They
swapped hugs, kisses and I love yous as tears fell.
Dont cry. Itll be all right, Hillman told his daughter.
And just like that, they parted. Hillman on a six-week business trip. His wife
and daughter home to Liberty Hill. The two were mostly quiet on the drive
back.
It doesnt get easier, Brianna Hillman told her mom.
Every February, the same scene replays throughout the entire world as
baseball professionals leave their homes for a new season. Hillman, sporting
a cleanly shaven look as if to signify a new beginning, is in his 31st year of
professional baseball and first as the Houston Astros bench coach. As far as
new beginnings go, Hillman cant complain. The Astros sit atop their division
with a record of 76-64 after a 70-92 finish in 2014. In his 31 years, Hillman
has never missed a full season. His longest break was six months in 2010. He
knows the sacrifices. Being away from home eight months of the year is
taxing on him and his family. The toughest part of the job for him is finding a
balance between his personal life and his work.
The people that take the biggest hit are the families, Hillman says in his
audible southern accent.
But theres something about the game that keeps pulling him back.
Hillman has had two things in his blood from the beginning: Texas and
baseball. He was born in 1963 in Amarillo and grew up in Arlington just two

miles from the Texas Rangers stadium where he spent many summer days
as a child. He played collegiate baseball at the University of Texas at
Arlington and now resides in Liberty Hill, a town just north of Austin, with his
wife and two children, Brianna and TJ.
At 22 years old, Hillman finished up his senior season of college without a job
in professional baseball and without any expectations of finding one. He
began pondering what his life would look like without it.
That summer he went on a job interview reluctant, but prepared to leave
the game. His friend owned the business and the interview was merely a
formality to get him acclimated with the company. He had every intention of
taking the job.
There he was at a Masonry Supply Company in the Dallas area about to
begin his career in sales when his phone rang. It was Joe Klein, an executive
with the Cleveland Indians, calling to offer Hillman a spot on their minor
league team.
Hillman accepted, and his journey began.
He had no idea the long and unpredictable career that lay ahead, but he
knew one thing: He was passionate about baseball.
You better love the game, Hillman tells people who ask what it takes to
have a career like his. If you dont love the game then you cant do this
business.
The passion is what drives his work ethic and has kept him in baseball for
three decades. Its what he refers to as the stayin power of stayin in it.
His stint as a player didnt last long though. After three disappointing
seasons in which he batted .179 in 162 games, he needed to reevaluate. He
sat down with minor league director Jeff Scott and explained that his goal
was longevity, even if that wasnt as a player.
The choice was his. He could continue fighting for a spot on the Indians, or
he could take on another role. Hillman decided to take a scouting job with
Cleveland in the fall of 1987, making him one of the youngest scouts in the
country at age 24.
His career bounced around from there. He spent 13 years coaching and
managing in the New York Yankees minor league system and in 2002, he
landed a job with the Texas Rangers as their minor league infield coordinator.
On June 22 that same year, Hillman was standing in his kitchen when an
unexpected call came. It was from an executive in Japan, wondering whether
Hillman would be interested in managing the Hokkaido Nippon-Ham Fighters.

With permission from the Rangers, Hillman pursued the job and reached an
agreement of principle on Aug. 15. It should have been an exhilarating time
for the Hillman family, but it became tense. Hillman was offered another
opportunity that would be hard to refuse.
The Rangers wanted to make him their manager.
Hillman was torn between honoring his agreement with Japan, and breaking
it to work for his hometown team.
It was especially hard on his mother. She supported her son in every step of
his career. Now there were two possibilities. Either he would be working a
few miles from her house, or thousands of miles away in Japan. His family
wanted him to stay. He wanted to stay.
Hillman weighed his options. He accepted the commitment he had made.
My word is my bond, thats the way it is, the soft-spoken Hillman says. I
wasnt going to allow myself to sacrifice my principles, my morals, my beliefs
and go back on my word.
It was a smooth transition, though. His wife and children lived in Japan part
time, and they adapted quickly to the Japanese culture. Hillman was having
success on the field too. When he took over, the team hadnt won a pennant
in 21 years. Under his leadership, the Fighters made the playoffs three of five
seasons and won the Japan World Series in 2006.
But as the kids grew older, things became complicated. Hillmans son TJ was
having to take a train 90 minutes each way to play club baseball, and his
daughter Brianna expressed an interest in playing softball. Hillman and his
wife agreed their kids were missing out on too much. In 2007, Hokkaido
offered him a multi-year deal that to date was the largest monetary contract
he had ever been offered.
He turned it down.
Even with no job lined up in the U.S., Hillman was confident walking away
from Japan was right for his family.
It was scary not having a job. The timing I understood because of the kids,
Marie Hillman says.
The fear was short-lived. It took five weeks for the Kansas City Royals to hire
Hillman as their manager. He spent two-plus years there before being fired in
2010 with an overall record of 152-207.
From 2011 to 2013, Hillman was the bench coach for the Los Angeles
Dodgers. In 2014, he signed with the New York Yankees to become their
assistant to the general manager in charge of major and minor league

operations. For the first time in over a decade, Hillman would be in the
stands instead of the dugout.
That part was tough, Hillman says. My heart is on the field trying to help
players achieve the goal of winning a game.
The trade-off was his schedule allowed for him to be home more often with
his family.
Hillman is a devout Christian who credits God for his opportunities and
success. Both he and his wife say that their faith has been central in giving
them the strength to deal with the long periods separation.
If you put [God] first then everything else kind of falls into place, Marie
Hillman says. I would not want to be married without a strong faith.
Hillmans priorities are God first and family second. Baseball takes third
place.
In his man cave, as he calls it, there is massive collection of baseball
artifacts a culmination of his entire career that he plans to pass down to
his kids. Spiraling up the stairs are more than a dozen framed jerseys. Upon
reaching the top, the eye is drawn in every direction. Straight ahead in a
spare bedroom are more framed jerseys. Across the room are Derek Jeters
cleats. And here is some signed Nolan Ryan memorabilia. Along this wall are
rows filled with 60 baseball bats, stacked with nearly 100 signed baseballs.
Directly above his desk is the lineup card from his first win in Kansas City as
a manager.
On his six acres of land, there is a baseball field equipped with lights, fences
and a batting cage. He allows local youth leagues to play games there during
their season. Its where he has spent time teaching his son, who is carrying
on the family tradition of playing baseball at UT-Arlington. For a man who
spends eight months of the year on a diamond, he returns home to another
one. He knows he can get consumed by his work, but its a part of him.
Former Yankees pitcher Jim Bouton wrote a book published in 1970 titled
"Ball Four: The Final Pitch. The book details his experiences in professional
baseball. The last line reads, You spend a good piece of your life gripping a
baseball and in the end it turns out that it was the other way around all the
time.
Baseball grips you. Its what makes an ordinary Texas boy willing to move to
Japan and spend half his life on the road. Its what makes him willing to be at
the park by 5 a.m. and not leave until after 5 p.m. It turns Hillmans life into
a high-wire balancing act.

This year the balancing got a little easier. Its only 197 miles from Hillmans
front door to the stadium parking lot. Its a psychological advantage knowing
that he can get in a car to get home instead of going to an airport.
I am so excited to live in the same state as him. Its almost too good to be
true, Marie Hillman says.
Hillman opens his suitcase to begin unpacking for another series. He pulls
clothes out and the bottom becomes visible again. He glances at his picture.
Theres the reminder of what the most important thing is for me on this
earth, he says.
It gives him the stayin power of stayin in it.