From free-agent limbo to the coaching box, Jankowski leans on relationships, family, and unfinished business in Texas.
ARLINGTON, Texas — Look down the first baseline at Globe Life Field this Opening Day and a familiar flash of blond should catch your eye.
Not chasing a ball and not scaling a wall. Just…watching everything.
“I think it’s the hair, you know, I think that gives it away. That’s what the fans love,” the owner of the memorable locks told WFAA recently.
Texas Rangers fans once loved it flying through the outfield during a World Series run. Now, it stands in the coaching box.
Because Travis Jankowski is back with the Texas Rangers — just in a different lane.
From “what’s next?” to right place, right time
Not long ago, Jankowski wasn’t sure if baseball still had room for him. His last game came in July of 2025. The phone wasn’t ringing as it used to.
The future? A little foggy. So, he did what a lot of players do when the game begins whispering instead of shouting.
“I was just praying kind of every night. God, give me a crystal-clear sign. Am I going to keep playing, or is it time for phase two?” Jankowski said.
That answer didn’t come in a stadium. It came in a driveway.
“I just finished working out, pulled into my driveway, and I get a call from Skip,” Jankowski said.
That’s Skip Schumaker, his old first base coach in San Diego for the Padres. A relationship that never really left the field–especially when Schumaker became the Rangers’ new manager.
“Hey, would you have any interest in coaching?” Schumaker asked. Ten minutes earlier, Jankowski was still training like a player.
He had 24 hours to decide if he was something else. Schumaker wanted Jankowski to interview for the job the next day.

The pivot
Jankowski talked with his agent, and he didn’t sugarcoat reality.
If he kept playing, it likely meant grinding—minor league invites, bouncing around, fighting for a roster spot.
“If you want to get into coaching — it’s a pretty good opportunity,” Jankowski recalled.
So, Jankowski did what he’s always done in this game. He leaned on the people closest to him.
He talked to his wife. He thought about his kids. He thought about what kind of life came next.
And just like that — a career that had always been about staying ready became one about helping others be ready.
Why Texas still feels like home
For Jankowski, coming back to Texas wasn’t just about baseball, it was about belonging.
“Texas feels a lot like my home in Pennsylvania,” he said. “We had a yard, we had a pool…my kids loved it, my wife loved it.”
Of the eight organizations he’s been part of, this one stuck.
“Hands down, Texas was my favorite of the eight I’ve been involved with,” Jankowski said.
Not just for the wins. But for the way the organization treats people.
“They care about the human being more than the stat line,” he added.
Now, he sees that same philosophy from the other side of the lineup card.

A clubhouse built on something more
Jankowski was never the headline guy on the 2023 Rangers, but he was part of the heartbeat. The prep. The belief. The moment he stepped up when ALCS MVP and postseason slugger Adolis García went down.
And he remembers exactly why it worked.
“When you have 25 guys, 15 coaches, 20 front office members believe in you — you have no choice but to believe in yourself,” Jankowski said.
That’s what he sees again in this clubhouse. Different names. Fewer holdovers.
“I think everyone in that clubhouse is playing together as a unit. The chemistry is high,” Jankowski said.
“It’s the intangibles. How much do you want to win, and how much do you love each other?” He added.
Coaching, with fresh cleat marks
The transition from player to coach? Smoother than expected, but with a few learning curves.
Mostly because the relationships were already there.
“Coaching is all about relationships, and I have those built in here,” Jankowski said.
But the game still finds a way to speed up.
“The first day it did (speed) up on me, he said. “I still get nerves — the butterflies are still real. I have six seconds to get information to a guy on first base.”
Only now, instead of reading the game for himself — those six seconds are all that matter.
Pitcher tendencies. Outfield positioning. Game situation.

“It’s a lot more nerve-wracking than I thought.”
Which is a good thing to Jankowski.
It means he still cares like a player. There’s already a banner hanging at Globe Life Field with Jankowski’s fingerprints on it. But that’s not enough.
“I don’t think being content with just one is where I’m at,” Jankowski said.
Now the mission is different, but the goal remains the same.
“Let’s do it as a coach now. We want another one.”
The number says everything
Jankowski won’t wear No. 16 anymore. That number belongs to the players and coaches get what’s left. So, he made his own.
“I added up all of my kids, my wife, my birthday, and it came out to 96.”
A number most players wouldn’t touch. A number no one would fight him for. But for Jankowski, it’s already taken.
Because stitched into that uniform is everything he’s playing for now.
And everything he’s coaching with.