Friday column: Chances eventually do come to an end

Redemption stories are the lifeblood of drama, certainly of sports drama. Think Rocky, The Natural, Field of Dreams. And redemption stories happen in real life. Think John Lucas, who overcame his drug problems and then went on to help other athletes battle theirs.

But for every John Lucas, there is at least one Dwight Gooden.

Gooden, who sabotaged his pitching career with drug use, has appeared more than once to have “turned his life around,” including recently to the point where the Mets invited him to spring training as a guest instructor. Citing the advanced pregnancy of his wife, Gooden declined.

Then Tuesday, Gooden was arrested for allegedly driving under the influence of a dangerous controlled substance following a two-car collision in New Jersey. Worst of all, he was driving his son, Dylan, to school at the time. Gooden hadn’t bothered to strap in the 5-year-old.

The major charges he faces? Being under the influence of a controlled dangerous substance; driving under the influence of a controlled dangerous substance; endangering the welfare of a child; driving while intoxicated, with a child passenger; leaving the scene of an accident; and reckless driving.

Gooden’s last jail time was in 2006 when he served six months for a parole violation. In the months leading up to Tuesday’s arrest he had spent time as a vice president for the Newark Bears, doing community work, and apparently doing it well.

“He was moving on to bigger and better things,” a Bears executive said.

Now Gooden’s back to square zero — and fortunate to be even there. His son was not injured in the accident — physically, at least — and Gooden, at 45, still has time to turn his story into one like that of Lucas.

He doesn’t, however, have forever.

Earlier this month, former Dodgers center fielder Willie Davis died at 69. I remember Davis from the team’s glory years of the early ’60s. I remember, also, his subsequent troubles with drugs and his brushes with the law. Over the years, the Dodgers reached out to Davis, but ultimately they could no more help him control his life than they could help him control his talent.

A friend of mine who had run into Davis at some function a few years ago said he was selling autographs for a pittance and looked, well, a mess. He died March 9, apparently alone.

In 1968, Davis gave a quote to the Los Angeles Times that concerned his failure to completely harness his considerable abilities, but might as well have been about the rest of his life.

“I can’t really explain it,” Davis said. “Over the years … I would say to myself, ‘This is the year,’ then every time I would go back to my old way of doing things.”

Gooden’s old way of doing things likely will return him to jail; eventually, it will kill him.

He doesn’t have forever.