Upon ending his 15-year career pitching for the Oakland A’s and San Francisco Giants, Zito followed in the musical footsteps of his parents, who both worked with Nat “King” Cole — his father as a conductor-arranger and his mother as a tour singer. Zito, whose country-folkish No Secrets EP hit No. 18 on Billboard‘s Heatseekers Albums charts in 2017, is now a producer-songwriter. The Cy Young Award winner and World Series champion spoke by phone from his Nashville studio.

It’s legendarily difficult to make it on Music Row. How challenging has it been for you?

The journey’s always a zigzag. My dream in music was always to be a writer-producer, even in my early baseball days, when I was able to hang out with some amazing producers in L.A. After I came to Nashville in 2015, [I] was a little more into the songwriting, which I view now as so necessary. Writing with a lot of great writers and published writers helped me so much in my role now as a producer.

When your album No Secrets charted in 2017, how did you celebrate?

It was a whirlwind, something we were doing to show more relevance here in the Nashville community, and maybe to some baseball fans who were going to continue to follow me on the music journey. It was honestly a surprise. My manager printed out a framed copy with a picture of the album. I have that in my studio now.

During your baseball career, were you concentrating on writing songs?

No, I wrote chunks of songs. I wrote some complete songs. Like anyone who’s writing alone, you have a lot of ideas you don’t know how to finish. No one knows this: I actually had four songs I paid a friend of mine in L.A., who’s a great producer, to cut. It was when I was not pitching well at all for the Giants. [The producer] brought in some great [music] players, and it was all over the map — a bossa-nova song, a pop song, a country song. It was just me exploring. I wanted to release it — I even had the album artwork ready to go — but we realized it wasn’t such a good look getting paid $18 million [a year] to pitch and you’re sitting here trying to release music while you’re not doing your actual job.

What’s the best story your parents told you about working with Nat King Cole?

My father told me a story that blew my mind, which is the guy that wrote “Nature Boy.”

Eden Ahbez!

Eden Ahbez, dude! Come on! I’m sure some of the details were fuzzy. My father was Nat’s road conductor, so he was on the road a lot. They were at a venue somewhere and the tour manager, whoever it was, says, “There’s this guy, he wants to talk to you guys, he has a song to play.” They’re kind of curious, so they go out and there was a piano on stage. It was Eden Ahbez. At the time, I guess he was homeless, he had this song, and he said, “I’d love for you to cut it, Nat.” He gets on the piano and plays “Nature Boy” for them. It’s pretty mind-blowing to think that is how “Nature Boy” was born into this world, as far as the industry goes.

Who have you been producing in Nashville?

I have anywhere from two to three sessions a week. I’ll build the track through the day, we’ll get some vocals at the end of the day and I’ll have a nice demo, and then somebody wants to release something, they’ll come back, we’ll do a production deal, we’ll cut final vocals if we have to, add production. There’s an artist-development piece to it with the three artists I’m working with. Lexi Mackenzie, she’s like a country-pop girl, she’s incredible. It’s kind of a blank canvas.

How much do you miss baseball?

Ah, not at all, man. And I don’t mean any disrespect to it. But when I really sit down and watch a game or try to remember how it felt to be on the field — I have my World Series rings in the studio — I do start to miss it. My buddy sent me some TikTok of a pitcher for the A’s throwing 98 miles per hour in a bullpen, which is insane. I thought, “God, that must be so fun, to pump 98 with no adrenaline, just in a bullpen.” I have a complicated relationship with it. I tell myself I don’t miss it, but maybe I do. Maybe I’m trying to fill the gap by being so focused on music.