Last July 12, a seven-year old baseball fan, Dominic di Angi of Frankfort, Illinois was severely injured during a Chicago Cubs game at Wrigley. A foul ball of Cubs' pitcher Ted Lilly fractured his skull. The boy is now out of danger, but as I read it, I shook my head in dismay.
Then when I woke up today, it was the first year death anniversary of Mike Coolbaugh, the
hitting and first base coach of the Double-A Tulsa drillers. He was killed by a 100mph line drive while he coached first base in a minor league game in North Little Rock, Ark. The ball was hit by one of his players, Tino Sanchez and it smashed below his neck rupturing a blood vessel. Within an hour, Coolbaugh was dead. Sanchez, severely traumatized, has gone home to Puerto Rico.
When I first saw this one the news a year ago, it stopped me. Everyone who goes to a baseball game always keeps in mind of the dangers of a ball going out of play. And it has always put the fear of God into me.
I'll be honest here. There's a reason why I only sit in the Upper Tier seats. People who know me I suffer from an acute case of acrophobia so seating high up there is an exercise in both bravery and foolhardiness. But I'm afraid of getting beaned. I once saw a girl's jaw get smashed by a scorching foul ball beyond first base and the one thing I remember was seeing her white Yankees jersey covered with blood. One time, the foul ball was slow in falling back down so people in the stands were scampering to catch it. One guy threw up his nachos and soda (that spilled all over someone) and when he caught it, he lost his balance and tumbled down several rows of people. Several of them were hurt since he was a huge guy. As for the man? Well, they had to put him in a neck brace.
Baseball is the one game where I'm riveted on the play at all times. Unlike other sports where I can look at the crowd or what, in baseball, I am always aware of where the ball is. Or even where the crowd drunks and malcontents are.
My first trip ever to Boston was harrowing. My mistake was wearing a Yankees cap. I got pulled over by cops (telling me to take it off if I wanted to live). Some guys in a nearby shops cussed me out and did all sorts of hand gestures with their digits. I took it off. Not too smart, Rick. It is like going to Madrid wearing a Barca jersey.
At least from the Upper Tier I have a few extra seconds before gravity takes hold of that ball. In high school, we used to play a lot of baseball during the summer of my junior year. We'd either play in the baseball diamond (which is no longer there) close to the football field or if it was too hot, inside the covered courts and instead used a tennis ball. After we broke on of the windows inside the covered courts, we had to stop. But seeing the ball send all those shards flying in all directions... well, I managed to get away from a post but our folks had to pony up some cash to pay for the damage.
But my first two great loves are football and baseball. And so perhaps for Dominic Di Angi and Mike Coolbaugh.
Within days of his recovery, Cubs players Ted Lilly and first baseman Derrek Lee visited him and left him with some autographed memorabilia. The kid was thrilled and sure gave him an emotional lift. As for the Coolbaughs... it's still tough for his widow, Mandy and their three kids. Mandy doesn't hate the sport but it's tough to watch a game for every time she looks at first base, she sees her husband.
Then there's that foul ball again.
Then when I woke up today, it was the first year death anniversary of Mike Coolbaugh, the
hitting and first base coach of the Double-A Tulsa drillers. He was killed by a 100mph line drive while he coached first base in a minor league game in North Little Rock, Ark. The ball was hit by one of his players, Tino Sanchez and it smashed below his neck rupturing a blood vessel. Within an hour, Coolbaugh was dead. Sanchez, severely traumatized, has gone home to Puerto Rico.When I first saw this one the news a year ago, it stopped me. Everyone who goes to a baseball game always keeps in mind of the dangers of a ball going out of play. And it has always put the fear of God into me.
I'll be honest here. There's a reason why I only sit in the Upper Tier seats. People who know me I suffer from an acute case of acrophobia so seating high up there is an exercise in both bravery and foolhardiness. But I'm afraid of getting beaned. I once saw a girl's jaw get smashed by a scorching foul ball beyond first base and the one thing I remember was seeing her white Yankees jersey covered with blood. One time, the foul ball was slow in falling back down so people in the stands were scampering to catch it. One guy threw up his nachos and soda (that spilled all over someone) and when he caught it, he lost his balance and tumbled down several rows of people. Several of them were hurt since he was a huge guy. As for the man? Well, they had to put him in a neck brace.
Baseball is the one game where I'm riveted on the play at all times. Unlike other sports where I can look at the crowd or what, in baseball, I am always aware of where the ball is. Or even where the crowd drunks and malcontents are.
My first trip ever to Boston was harrowing. My mistake was wearing a Yankees cap. I got pulled over by cops (telling me to take it off if I wanted to live). Some guys in a nearby shops cussed me out and did all sorts of hand gestures with their digits. I took it off. Not too smart, Rick. It is like going to Madrid wearing a Barca jersey.
At least from the Upper Tier I have a few extra seconds before gravity takes hold of that ball. In high school, we used to play a lot of baseball during the summer of my junior year. We'd either play in the baseball diamond (which is no longer there) close to the football field or if it was too hot, inside the covered courts and instead used a tennis ball. After we broke on of the windows inside the covered courts, we had to stop. But seeing the ball send all those shards flying in all directions... well, I managed to get away from a post but our folks had to pony up some cash to pay for the damage.
But my first two great loves are football and baseball. And so perhaps for Dominic Di Angi and Mike Coolbaugh.
Within days of his recovery, Cubs players Ted Lilly and first baseman Derrek Lee visited him and left him with some autographed memorabilia. The kid was thrilled and sure gave him an emotional lift. As for the Coolbaughs... it's still tough for his widow, Mandy and their three kids. Mandy doesn't hate the sport but it's tough to watch a game for every time she looks at first base, she sees her husband.
Then there's that foul ball again.
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