Oscar Taveras, 22-year old outfielder for the St. Louis Cardinals, was killed in a car accident with his girlfriend in Puerto Plata, Dominican Republic, his hometown. His agent confirmed the tragedy late last night and the news spread like wildfire even on to the biggest stage.
Taveras saw spurts of action in 2014 and was expected to make a run for one of the starting outfield spots on the 2015 roster. He was an impressive combination of speed and power that made tracking fly balls easy and hitting home runs even easier. Here's an example of Taveras' skill in the NLCS, when he hit a clutch moonshot to right to tie the game at 3 in the 7th. That at-bat was his last Major League action.
Taveras was born June 19, 1992. One month younger than me to the date. To begin the season, he was ranked as the #3 prospect across the board (MLB.com, Baseball America, and Baseball Prospectus), and to be honest, I had him as my 2014 NL Rookie of the Year. I thought he would get more playing time this year; I even drafted him in fantasy baseball thinking he would be a mid-May call-up and have a Puig like effect on the game.
It's kind of creepy thinking about that knowing what we know now.
I wrote a post a few weeks ago about Derek Jeter's last at-bat and the end of Tiger Stadium and how it was such a poetic ending and how sports are such redeeming moments in our eyes. But what about this? How does this make any sense? How can there be a reason for an incredibly talented 22 year old kid to be taken in such a violent fashion so soon? Sports are something we can get lost in, forget the woes of our daily lives and believe in something bigger than ourselves; but what happens when the woes of sports creep into our daily lives? I guess this is poetic too, but rather than Whitman writing this story, it's Dickinson.
This past weekend was a series of rivalry games for my fandom. Michigan and Michigan State squared off on the gridiron, and I watched intently and hopefully, only to see Michigan take a 35-11 drubbing and leave the fields to chants of "little sister." Chelsea, my favorite English football club, faced the hated Manchester United in a matchup of EPL giants and again, I was drawn into the simplicity of the game only to see Chelsea concede a 94th minute goal off of a questionable free kick to end the game in a painful draw.
My teams didn't win. They broke my heart, even, considering it was a rivalry weekend. But what happened to Taveras doesn't even come close. And what really shook me was how baseball characters put their lives on hold to bid another one goodbye, specifically the Cardinals' biggest rival. The Cubs and Cardinals have hated each other for as long as either one was a franchise, but they put all that aside Sunday night to pause and recognize the tragedy that had just occurred.
At work this morning, I complained about how my teams let me down. But then I paused and kicked myself for saying that because I didn't lose anyone close to me.
Giants outfielder Juan Perez, though 5 years older than Taveras, is from the Dominican Republic along with Taveras. The two had played on some younger teams together and Perez took the loss very hard. In the middle of the 5th inning, Perez wandered down the dugout towards where Fox broadcaster Erin Andrews was stationed.
His eye caught her prompter and saw the word "Taveras" which was odd considering the Giants had defeated the Cardinals a few weeks ago to advance to this very World Series.
What happened next is heartbreaking. Perez watched in horror as he saw the death of a close friend develop before his very eyes. Can you imagine finding out that way? Not through a friend or family member or hospital official - but on a broadcasting monitor on the other end of the dugout.
You'll see Taveras in the white, second from the left. Perez is the lone Giant facing the camera. |
The same thing happened to Angels pitcher Nick Adenhart in the 2009 season. Adenhart pitched in a single game in April of 2009, allowing 7 hits over 6 shutout innings against the A's. The following night, Adenhart and two others were struck by a drunk driver and killed on impact, ending the hopeful career of a 22-year old pitcher who had overcome major elbow surgery to just get to the big stage. The Angels' finished the year with his jersey hanging in their dugout
and celebrated mightily when they clinched the AL West crown.
I'm guessing the Cardinals will do something similar, whether it be a jersey patch or an outfield pad, or a jersey in the dugout. Adenhart or Taveras, it doesn't make it any easier to swallow. I think now that I'm actually 22 and the same age as they both were when they passed wakes me up a little bit, forcing me hang my head in mourning but also thankful that I have never lost anyone close in my life.
I'm not writing this to tell you to appreciate every breath or take life one step at a time or any other YOLO-esque cliche, because you probably have enough of those crocheted into a throw pillow. I'm just trying to tell you that even while sports are so great because of stories like Jeter and Tiger Stadium, it also is that much harder because of the emotional investment we have. Very few of us probably ever met Oscar Taveras let alone knew him, so why are we so sad about this? It's because of his potential and what could have been. It's because it just doesn't seem fair that such a rare physical specimen is gone in the blink of an eye. It's because for the sorrow that a loss brings, a win can be mean so much more than beating your rival.
Remember Juan Perez, the poor guy that found out he lost a friend over a TV monitor? He slapped a two run double three innings later off of the best AL reliever this season.
I can only imagine what Perez felt after that hit.
And again, I can only imagine what the Taveras family is going through right now.
Thanks for reading. And please, if you will, keep Taveras, his family, and the Cardinals in your thoughts.