Kieboom built his life around playing baseball. Then he walked away.
It wasn’t the crowd that sticks with Spencer Kieboom. It wasn’t the game that unfolded no more than 50 feet from where he sat in the home dugout. It wasn’t the weather or the noise.
It was the lights between the third base line and left field foul pole at Nationals Park. It was the way they bathed the field, the stands and made him squint. Kieboom played 53 times under big league lights and is one of only 19,902 people ever to do so. But that night — Aug. 28, 2019 — was his last in the majors. And when it ended, when the field went dark, Kieboom, once a catcher for the Washington Nationals, moved past his old life and started another. More than two decades playing baseball and that was it.
Now, almost a year removed from that decision, Kieboom is a new father of a baby boy. He’s finishing his degree and carving out a niche in retail. He is happy and at peace with retiring at 28 — even if there was no ovation, no coverage, no ceremony to offer tear-filled gratitude to his teammates, family or fans.
Kieboom made his exit in near anonymity. He laughs and calls it his “Irish goodbye” from the sport. He’s come to terms with what he accomplished, what he didn’t and how those final moments look in his head.
“Personally, that’s a really emotional image,” Kieboom told The Washington Post. “You’re saying goodbye to something you loved. But it’s also part of growing up. You can’t play forever.”
There were a few reasons his chances dwindled. Suzuki and Gomes started all but two of the Nationals’ 162 games in 2019. When Washington needed a third catcher for a doubleheader, they felt Raudy Read, coming from the Class AAA Fresno Grizzlies, could provide more power and upside in a pinch-hitting situation. And Tres Barrera, now 26, was younger than Kieboom and impressing in Harrisburg.
Kieboom understood the details. None of them made his final season any easier to parse. He was promoted for three days in July and didn’t appear in a game. Then he was with the club in late August, one last time, holding Hunter Strickland’s place while he took paternity leave. Again, he wasn’t used by Manager Dave Martinez. His final professional season included two call-ups, no plate appearances and no innings at catcher. It was obvious that, once Strickland returned, Kieboom would head straight back to Harrisburg to ride the season out.
But he had other plans. Looking back, Kieboom said he couldn’t have spent even 10 more days in the minors. That’s why he soon sat inside Nationals Park, right against the padded rail, as his internal camera clicked.
“I took that mental image, like a picture, because I knew that would be the last time I sat in a dugout during a game,” Kieboom said. “It was just a big sense of relief. That’s really what it felt like. Like, ‘Oh, God, I can finally breathe.’ “
The Nationals beat the Orioles that night, 8-4, and Kieboom was sent down. Next came a slow and blurry transition out of baseball: He asked to see a doctor to evaluate the throwing elbow that had nagged at him all year. He figured he would be released — he was fine with that — but was instead placed on the 60-day injured
list.
His season was over. He headed back to Georgia to sort through his thoughts. He didn’t watch the World Series run, needing to distance himself from the sport to wash a bad taste from his mouth. He officially became a free agent Oct. 24, 2019. A second opinion from James Andrews, a leading elbow expert, was inconclusive. A third opinion showed a pinched nerve that required surgery.
After that, Kieboom no longer felt sharp pain when lifting his iPhone or trying to sleep. He worked out, rehabbed the injury, even heard from a few teams extending spring training invites. But his heart wasn’t in it. He consulted his wife, Christa, and decided to finish his marketing degree at Clemson. Then he retired and stared down the rest of his life.
“He went out the way he played: head down, quiet, no frills,” said his father, Alswinn. “I respected that. That made me really proud.”
“From a self-evaluation standpoint, I knew I couldn’t reach my goal anymore,” Spencer Kieboom added. “I wouldn’t have stopped if I had more in the tank. I just didn’t.”
So he pivoted. That’s a business term, Kieboom notes, and a skill he learned in baseball. To stay connected and give back, Kieboom trains a teenage catcher bound for Mississippi State, works with his old travel club on Sundays and is on the advisory board for Kennesaw State University’s team.
He otherwise disconnects from the sport aside from following Carter’s games with the Nationals. He is busy taking care of baby Swinn, named after Kieboom’s father, and developing his own company.
But there are parts he does miss. He received a World Series ring that reminds him of the friends, fans and city he grew close with. He loved game-planning with pitchers, searching video and stats to beat a batter. And, of course, there are few feelings like stepping beneath the lights of a ballpark while the world swirls around you.
Kieboom now finds that while holding Swinn or spending time with Christa. Business is a fresh passion, an outlet for the competitiveness that steered him through eight seasons in pro baseball. He has seen one career through, started his next and, not yet 30, is storing more memories by the day. He likes it on the other side.