Three months ago, I sat in a gorgeous banquet hall looking on as my dear friend stared into the eyes of his beautiful bride, Mickelle. This was obviously one of the greatest moments of his 26 years of life, and yet he was compelled to talk about his lowest. As a testament to his faith, Joey Hauck — surrounded by friends and family — described the night he lay on a set of train tracks outside his college town, ready to end his life.

Hopelessly, at 2 a.m., he waited for a train that never came.

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Back to the Beginning

To understand why Joey would choose to rehash the darkness of his past on the best day of his life, we need to start at the beginning, and the beginning starts with baseball. For Joey, his first few steps and his first time picking up a baseball glove were nearly simultaneous.

“Joey started playing baseball as soon as he could walk,” Joey’s parents told me. “His older brother played before him, so he always had a bat and a ball.”

Joey added, “Literally as soon as you can get into it. That was that. I’ve always been in love with baseball. There was never a thought in my mind that baseball was not gonna be there.”

Like all too many young athletes, Joey never considered that his time playing baseball wouldn’t last forever.

Joey playing T-ball. (Courtesy of the Hauck family)

High School Baseball

​Joey grew up in a loving Christian household in Menifee, California, where his parents loved attending his games. He was clearly a gifted athlete, and throughout middle and high school, baseball came naturally to him.

In Joey’s senior year, he had a .338 batting average, ripping five doubles, a triple and a home run. And although Joey grew in his dominance at the plate, he was most known for his acrobatic plays in the outfield that garnered him the nickname “Hawk.”

“My last name is Hauck, but a lot of people read ‘Hawk,’ so they started calling me Hawk. It was fitting because, you know, I was kind of a ball hawk,” Joey said as he laughed, thinking back on the memory. “Anything that was hit in the outfield for me was a no-fly zone.”

Joey was named a two-time Golden Glove recipient in high school, received the Eagle Award for his character, and was named first-team all-league in the South Valley League.

At this point, baseball continued to be his ticket through life. He had a dream of playing in the majors, and when he got the chance to play collegiately, it only reinforced his aspirations. Graduating high school with much baseball fanfare, Joey was used to being told how good he was. He didn’t consider that his talent might not be enough, or that there’s a fine line between glory and pressure.​

College Ball

​Joey playing junior college baseball. (Courtesy of the Hauck family)

​Joey began at Mt. San Jacinto College, a nearby junior college. During this time, Joey continued to make attention-grabbing plays in the outfield while maximizing each at-bat. In 2020, he started all 19 games, drove in 13 runs, hit a homer, and had a team-high 12 stolen bases.

Joey then searched for Division-II opportunities and ultimately landed on California State University, Stanislaus in Turlock, a small suburb in Northern California. The school offered him a scholarship to play. At Stanislaus, less than a seven-hour drive from where he grew up, Joey started to increase some of his harmful off-the-field habits, like drinking and smoking, which he had only dabbled with in high school.​

“I was drinking and smoking every day throughout the day,” he said. “First thing in the morning, I would take shots before the morning lift for baseball, at like 7 in the morning.”

Still, Joey’s habits hadn’t yet seemed to put a crack in his performance on the field.​

“It’s really annoying,” he quipped, “because it didn’t affect my performance. And very humbly speaking, I was very athletic. I didn’t really train; I just played ball, and I was just really good.”

Like so many ballplayers who can get by with little sleep and lots of partying, Joey didn’t have the accountability to change his ways. He maintained his athleticism, as well as his scholarship, despite his off-field choices.

In his second season at Stanislaus, Joey recorded a .989 putout rate in center field and swiped seven bags. Continuing to make mesmerizing plays in the outfield, the “Hawk” maintained those same big dreams to play professional baseball — dreams that looked to be coming true.

​Baseball as a God

​As Joey’s college career wore on, those dreams morphed into burdens.​

“I know he felt pressure,” his dad explained. “Because, as you graduate up through the baseball career, it becomes all about your hitting, right? Defensively and in speed, he was No. 1 in all of those areas. But where he struggled was batting.

“He was batting .250, .300. But, in college, to go somewhere, you need to be in the fours and fives. … We would see some signs of frustration with his batting. … We knew he was putting pressure on himself.”​

In an interview with Stanislaus’ sports media department, Joey shared that his main goal was to play in the pros. Baseball was everything to Joey, and the pressure was building.​

“There was no better feeling than to get out of a class and walk over to the cages and hit for an hour before my next class,” Joey said. “I wasn’t putting a lot of time and effort into my faith, and even into school. I was not a really good student; I didn’t like homework. I loved baseball, and so I felt like baseball really started to consume everything I thought about. It was pretty much like going pro or bust.”​

Consumed by baseball, he wrapped his identity around his success on the field and in going pro.

“So I think with that ideology, baseball was my god in a sense,” he reflected. “That’s all I ever thought about. When I was doing school or work, I wanted to play baseball.”

According to NCAA research and an article on LinkedIn, the probability of competing in baseball beyond high school is just 8.1%. The probability of then competing in the pros from an NCAA program is just 5.1%. Overall, the probability of a youth baseball player going pro is just .0028% (1 in 350,000).​

While he continued to find outward success in this improbable pursuit, inwardly Joey slipped deeper.​

His dreams came with a price. As baseball became more competitive, it grew harder for the “Hawk” to soar. The reality was that Joey was farther away in his pursuit of playing in the pros than he had imagined.

Rather than grapple with that reality, Joey began to compensate with drugs and alcohol, constructing a hypocritical and toxic double life. While his performance didn’t suffer, mentally Joey began to crack.

​Joey playing college ball. (Courtesy of the Hauck family)

The Train Tracks

​Joey started going for runs at 1 a.m. by the nearby train tracks. Since Turlock is a small town, surrounded by farmland, the train tracks were only a mile from Joey’s school.​

“I always told people I’m running to clear my head, but that was just a lie,” he said. “… I was not hoping, well, I don’t know — either I was hoping I’d get hit or just the adrenaline that something could happen at any moment. That was just like the really depressing side of the runs.”​

Struggling with purpose and a sense that he had failed at the one pursuit he had invested everything into, Joey reached rock bottom.​ On Nov. 12, 2022, Joey had made his decision.

“For two weeks, the train came at this time (2 a.m.), so I’m gonna go out tonight, and I’m gonna lie across the tracks,” he said. “It was super dark, there were no lights, so the train wouldn’t have seen me. That was the night that I planned to end my life.”​

Joey got there early and lay on the tracks.

“I get there at 1 o’clock, and I’m just waiting,” he said. “And then it was 1:30, then 1:45. I just sat there, listening to music. Then 2 o’clock comes.”

Joey exhaled.

“At this point, I’m just sitting on the tracks, and I don’t see anything. 2:15, I don’t see anything. And then …​”

Past 2:30 a.m., the train still had not shown. Joey got a call from a friend wondering where he was. He left the tracks, but as he was walking home, Joey grew frustrated.​

“I was very mad at God for saving me,” he said, “because for two weeks I planned when the train would come, and the train never came that night. That could have only been from God.”​

“For his anger lasts only a moment, but his favor lasts a lifetime; weeping may stay for the night, but rejoicing comes in the morning” — Psalm 30:5

​Saving Grace

​When Joey woke up the next morning, he was reflective. The same words came to mind, but in a different tone.

“The train not showing that night could have only been from God,” he said.

He no longer carried that realization with resentment, but with gratitude.​ Looking skyward, Joey stretched out his arms and prayed.

“I was just praying to God that morning,” he remembered. “I was like, ‘Hey God, I know that was You, and I’m fully just going to surrender my life to You. Thank You. You saved me.’ And that was the moment I’m like, ‘Jesus, I’m all Yours — 100% — arms open wide.’ I just prayed for Him to enter my heart and to be my Lord.”​

At his lowest point, the train hadn’t come, and Joey recognized God was still writing his story. But the next chapter would mean that some things in his life would need to change, including possibly leaving the game he loved.​

“Therefore, if anyone is in Christ, the new creation has come: The old has gone, the new is here!” — 2 Corinthians 5:17

​”That morning, I decided to pack up and leave,” Joey said. “Right on the spot, I called my coach. He was actually one of the few Christians that I knew up there, and so I felt comfortable talking to him.

“He knew that I was going through stuff by the way that I was acting at practice, getting more frustrated than I usually did, and he actually had told me, ‘Hey, like there are people that we can get you in contact with for mental health and all that.'”​

Joey knew his coach would come alongside him, care for him, and respect his need to go home. His coach remained supportive, more like a friend and less like a taskmaster.​

As that phone call ended, so did Joey’s baseball career — a hard truth for the kid who’d been playing since he could walk. But at the same time, it was the first step for a soul who had new life in Christ.​

That day, as Joey said goodbye to the sport he loved, making the drive back home, he began to reflect on the past few years. What did it mean to walk away from competitive baseball and into the unknown? What did it mean to trust that God would meet him there?​

“When I first left, it was a surreal moment,” he said “Like I couldn’t believe that I was just giving up baseball because I’ve put so much into it. I’ve been playing since I was 4, and that’s what I thought I was going to do for the rest of my life.

“For it to just be gone, that was very sad. … But also, that was when I gave my life to the Lord, and I was like, ‘OK Lord, I know You’re going to provide. Speak to me. Let me know what I should do.’ And He did.”​

Part of Joey still wonders what would have happened in baseball if, instead of making the game his god, he had put God at the center of it. Joey had grown so mentally unhealthy because he worshiped baseball. He had so idolized the game he once loved that when baseball did not come through, he had nothing.​

“With the whole mental health side of things, I had to let that go,” he said. “And I think that was also frustrating, the fact that I feel like I’m at my peak. I feel like I can do something with this, but I had to say goodbye.

“So yes, it was sad leaving baseball. But seeing God’s faithfulness through it all made it worth it.”​

As great as baseball was to the “Hawk,” it was not and would never be enough. Chasing the glory and pleasure of being a pro was costing him his soul. So with his second chance at life, he decided to give his whole heart and soul to Christ.

“What good is it for someone to gain the whole world, and yet lose or forfeit their very self?” — Luke 9:25

​One day, Joey hopes to return to the field and coach his kids. If blessed with the opportunity, he said he’d tell his kids, “‘Don’t put so much pressure on performance. Baseball is a failing sport. You succeed one-third of the time. When there’s so much pressure, you lose the love of the game.’

“And I don’t want that for them, you know? I want them to love what they do.”​

Greatest Moment of His Life

Joey’s wedding. (Courtesy of the bride and groom)

Now, back to the wedding reception. All eyes were on Joey. Choking back a few tears, he admitted that he had not shared this story with many people besides Mickelle and his groomsmen, but he knew he needed to that night in case there was anyone in the room who had felt the way he had four years before.

With a heart for people to experience the same love of Christ that he’d experienced, he shared about his lowest point. He explained that God not only saved Him that night on the train tracks, but since then has carried out a much bigger plan for him than he could have ever imagined.

Joey hugging his wife, Mickelle, after sharing his testimony. (Courtesy of the bride and groom)

Joey finished with an invitation to anyone in the room: If they had never experienced the power of Christ in their lives but wanted to know more, they could ask him and his new wife.

“It would be the greatest wedding present,” he said, “to know that you, too, have found the Lord.”

“You will seek me and find me when you seek me with all your heart.” — Jeremiah 29:13

>> Do you know Christ personally? Learn how you can commit your life to Him. <<

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