As I begin to type this post the Angels/Red Sox game is about to get underway. This is the first game after the tragic loss of the Angels’ rookie pitcher Nick Adenhart.
I was at the Angels/As game on Tuesday night, the second in the four game home opener series. On Wednesday night I watched the third game of the series against Oakland with 22-year old Adenhart pitching. He pitched a helluva six innings. Sure, he got himself into a couple of tight positions with loaded bases, but when he was done for the night he had pitched six shutout innings. The Angels lost that night, but I was already looking forward to the next night’s game — I had tickets for Thursday night.
Then I heard Thursday morning that the young rookie pitcher who had just pitched six shutout innings the night before was gone — a victim of car accident claiming not only his life, but those of two others and leaving a third in critical condition. Thursday’s night game was understandably postponed.
Anyone who knows me knows that I am an Angels fan. There’s an official MLB home plate at my bedroom door with the Angels logo on it. I have a number of baseballs signed by various Angels players over the last number of years. An official Angels batting helmet rests on a high shelf. I’m the kind of fan that wears the jersey of the team’s manager, Mike Scioscia to the game.
Even though I wasn’t at the game tonight, but watching it on television at home, it was emotional. I’m an emotional fan as it is. I cried when they one the World Series in 2002. When I’m at a game I cry almost every time they show the pre-game video on the diamond-vision showcasing great moments in Angels history. So, it wasn’t surprising when I cried during the tribute and moment of silence for Nick Adenhart tonight.