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Jason Larzelere comes from six generations of military service, going back to the Revolutionary War. He was an Air Force medic who felt untouchable. On the third morning of his second deployment, a mortar went off about 30 feet away. The next thing he remembers is being airlifted out.

What followed was 18 surgeries: four on his shoulder, three on his forearm, two on his wrist, and more on his face. While he waited on a medical review, the Air Force put him on honor guard, where he served at close to 190 military funerals. The first was for a Doolittle Raider. That changed the cocky kid into someone who understood what service really means.

He did everything he could to stay in. He got down to 175 pounds and was running and doing push-ups better than ever. Then he stood at attention in full dress uniform in front of a medical board, watched them stamp "medically retired," and sobbed. "It's not about the name on my chest. It's about the branch." He had 30 days to get out.

Next came four years of depression and nearly 300 pounds. He tried to play again and physically couldn't. Then a coach he met at a charity game asked a simple question: have you ever thought about coaching? That one question got him back on a field. From there he earned a degree from Texas A&M, built a career in HR, spent a year working in the U.S. Senate, and today manages a San Antonio-area team where more than half the roster is military. Some of them wouldn't get to play anywhere else.

His rule for life is five words long: give before you take.

In this episode:

• How Brian Penn's catching surprised a guy who'd underestimated him (Brian credits WD-40 and glucosamine)
• Nolan Ryan, José Cruz Sr., Michael Young, and why Dustin Pedroia is his all-time favorite
• Watching the 2017 Astros win it all with his grandfather, who was still talking about that team from hospice
• Honor guard, a Doolittle Raider's funeral, and finding a new sense of service
• The med board that ended his military career
• How baseball taught him to read people better than any training did
• Why your time is worth more than you think
• Warriors SOAR Website: https://warriorssoar.org/

"If it just gets them out of the house one day a week, that's one day that maybe they look forward to all week." — Jason Larzelere

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"This episode includes discussion of a suicide attempt and suicide loss. If you're struggling, call or text 988 (US) any time to reach the Suicide & Crisis Lifeline."

Al Reano has spent 34 years in commercial lending, and he's turned down more loans than he's approved. He never tells anyone “Never", he tells them, "not now."

It took him a long time to say that to himself.

The episode starts light. Al met James Gass on a pickup basketball court, ended up as his unofficial roadie, and tells about the time James stood outside his garage in the heat just to hear his band practice. Al fell in love with the Showtime Lakers at age nine. Years later he turned down $500 for a pair of tickets so his grandfather could see Magic Johnson's comeback game in person. He still has the photos. He's a Mookie Betts guy, an Eric Karros guy, and he once met Tommy Lasorda. He also refuses to touch a Dodger Dog these days.

Then James asks about his darkest moment, and Al tells it straight.

He'd been married for 22 years and thought it was a strong marriage. He saw it falling apart slowly, did everything his therapist asked, prayed hard, and nothing worked. When the end came, he felt numb and saw no way out. A couple of years ago, he tried to take his own life. He calls it the most selfish thing he's ever done, because he didn't think about his kids for a second. He and James, who shared his own story, talk openly about what was really behind those moments.

What came after is why this episode matters. The same therapist he started seeing with his wife is the one he still sees today. Through that work, he learned he is someone worth loving. And he found what his therapist calls his "God's army": about 20 people who will never let him feel alone again. Three of his four kids are in therapy now too, because he made sure they had support outside of him.

Brian Penn also shares something he's carried for months: a quiet nudge to call a friend he never acted on, and the phone call two weeks later.

In this episode:

• Why "not now" is kinder than "never"
• The game Al chose to share with his grandfather instead of selling the tickets
• Walking into Dodger Stadium with his kids for the first time
• 22 years, a slow ending, and the moment he gave up
• Why Al says therapy is cool and everybody needs it
• Paying attention to the whisper that tells you to check on someone
• Smiling more and being kind, even to people who annoy you

"You are not alone. Reach out. Call someone. Let someone tell you that you matter in this life and that life would suck if you weren't here." — Al Reano

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In 2020, Mike Dickinson was sitting in a doctor's office in Asheville, North Carolina, when they told him to go to the hospital immediately — his blood sugar was dangerously high. He weighed around 420 pounds. He had diabetes, blood pressure medication, heart medication. A year or two earlier, his nieces and nephews wanted to walk a few blocks and he asked if they could call an Uber.

So he picked a target most people would call ridiculous: Atlanta Braves Fantasy Camp. He needed a picture on the bulletin board, something to run toward. Twenty minutes of cardio became thirty. Thirty became a habit. Weights came two years in. No workout partner, no trainer — just Netflix, music, and the voice in his head that refused to quit on him.

This past January, at roughly 170 pounds, Mike Dickinson walked onto a field in a Braves uniform, played for a team captained by Brian Penn, and made a diving, game-saving catch against the Yankees that his team celebrated like a championship. He didn't want to take the uniform off. He also reversed his diabetes and came off every medication.

Oh, and his day job? He runs fifteen-plus strip clubs across the country, from small-town Tennessee to Chicago to Oklahoma — and the thing he loves most about it is finding the person everybody else overlooked and turning them into a star.

In this episode:

• The hospital visit that started everything
• Why 20 minutes every day beats two hours for two weeks
• Trading the boss's chair for the rookie's locker at fantasy camp
• Meeting Andruw Jones in a batting cage — and Brian's very awkward run-in with Leo Mazzone
• Growing up in Richmond watching the entire 90s Braves dynasty come through Triple-A
• Why "Instagram lifestyle" is the biggest lie in modern life

"It's better to do 20 minutes a day for a month than two hours a day for two weeks." — Mike Dickinson