This story was excerpted from AJ Cassavell’s Padres Beat newsletter. To read the full newsletter, click here. And subscribe to get it regularly in your inbox.

In hindsight, it was so obviously one of the best days of Trevor Hoffman's life.

At the moment, it didn't feel like it.

Thirty years ago Saturday, Hoffman was traded from the Marlins to the Padres. He couldn't have predicted he would go on to build a Hall of Fame career, raise a family and become one of the most beloved figures in the city of San Diego.

No, at the time, he was just a 25-year-old who'd been told he had to pack his stuff and move to a new city. Hoffman walked into the manager's office on June 24, 1993, when Marlins skipper Rene Lachemann and general manager Dave Dombrowski delivered the news.

“Zero heads up, zero idea on my radar, I was really caught off guard,” Hoffman recalled. “They just said, ‘Hey, we made a trade with San Diego, and they weren't going through with the deal unless you were a part of it.’ It was: Thank you for everything you did, but you're out of here."

It was onto the next chapter, one that would last 16 seasons and beyond.

"A lot of guys," Hoffman said, "don't get as lucky as I got."

If Hoffman lived a charmed existence in San Diego, it didn't start that way. He'd been traded for Gary Sheffield, a bona fide superstar coming off a batting title and a push for the Triple Crown in 1992.

Hoffman wasn't the only player sent to the Padres in that deal. Andres Berumen and Jose Martinez joined the organization as well. But Hoffman was the only player to report directly to San Diego, with the other two sent to the Minors.

Amid the team’s infamous early-‘90s “fire sale,” the fanbase wasn't pleased. Hoffman bore the brunt of it, booed lustily during his first few outings. It didn’t help that Hoffman arrived and surrendered eight runs in his first three games.

"I sucked," Hoffman recalled -- with a smile all these years later. "I didn't get a soft out anywhere. I gave up some crooked numbers for a few outings. I didn't do much to endear myself.

"The fans are like ‘This is the guy?’"

Hoffman's life had been turned upside down. He needed his brother, Glenn (who would later become a longtime coach in the Padres organization), to set him straight.

Glenn called Trevor shortly after the trade and made his case that Trevor was in the right place.

"It wasn't clear in my mind at all until he said: 'Trev, this is going to be the best thing for you,'" Trevor recalled. "'Mom and dad [living in Orange County] are going to be close. They can come watch you play. And you're going to be allowed to go out and fail and succeed at the same time."'

Hoffman quickly found his footing. In 1995, he developed his changeup, and the rest was history. Hoffman recorded 601 career saves, second all-time. In 2018, he was inducted into the Hall of Fame.

"Don't blink," Hoffman recalled, sitting in the Padres dugout last week. "Your career's gonna go fast. I had a long one. But I'm coming up on more time retired than playing."

Hoffman is now a senior adviser in the organization. He spends time each year with the club at Spring Training and makes himself available as a resource for the current players, particularly the pitchers.

Meantime, Trevor's son, Wyatt Hoffman, is a shortstop in the organization, playing for nearby Single-A Lake Elsinore. (Trevor, too, broke into professional baseball as a shortstop.)

Hoffman didn't realize it at the time, but when he was fatefully traded to the Padres three decades ago, he was being traded home. The affable, easy-going, flip-flop-wearing Hoffman was a perfect fit for San Diego. He would come to love it there. And -- if not at first -- San Diego would love him right back.

"To be able to have this as my city for 15 years ... my world definitely changed when I got here, for the better," Hoffman said. "I had blinders at the time. It took other people to tell me: 'You're going to paradise, man.'

"It turned into a pretty amazing run, that's for sure."