About a week ago I was watching the American League Divisional Series, wondering why every baseball-talking head was picking the Yankees over the Tigers when Detroit was obviously the better team. Detroit eventually manhandled the Yanks, winning the series three games to one, sending the Tigers to the championship series and the Yanks and their $200 million payroll into an early vacation.
In the following days the Yankees proceeded to become the talk of the sports world with usual leads: A-Rod tanks again, Joe Torre in the hot seat and George Steinbrenner found yelling in an empty room at himself for no reason.
For three days straight the sports world was on the edge of its seat, not because of a Terrell Owens overdose, but instead to see if Torre would be fired as the Yankees manager and if the team would trade away the $200 million man, Alex Rodriguez.
Opinions varied with many saying Rodriguez wasn’t cut out for the scrutiny of the New York media and Torre was over the hill and could not get from the team what he did when he won four World Series championships in five years.
As it always seems with news of this nature, the story was overblown, and Torre just so happened to be notified he would be retained as manager 15 minutes before his season-ending press conference.
The next day Steinbrenner’s chosen megaphone, otherwise known as General Manager Brian Cashman, told reporters Rodriguez wouldn’t be thrown out. I mean, traded.
Unknowingly to the team and the rest of the world, the next day something would happen which would put those three days of over-inflated egos back in their place: the death of pitcher Cory Lidle.
On the morning of Oct. 11, a small plane containing Lidle and his flying instructor Tyler Stanger lost control and flew into a 40-story apartment building in New York. Lidle was 34-years-old.
Lidle, along with Stanger, was on a possible aerial tour of New York when the plane lost control and flew into the high-rise.
To the average fan, the amount of people affected by Lidle’s death was greater than was probably expected, but if you look at his resume over the nine years he was in the league, it shouldn’t be surprising.
Lidle played for the Mets, Devil Rays, Athletics, Blue Jays, Reds and Phillies before finishing this season with the Yankees compiling an 82-72 record and a career ERA of 4.57.
The numbers are nice, not hall-of-fame worthy, or even in the realm of today’s great pitchers such as Martinez, Clemens and Santana. But still, teammates on seven different squads remembered their fallen teammate.
Lidle was buried Tuesday in an outside service in his home state of California with teammates Derek Jeter and Jason Giambi from the Yankees, Barry Zito of the A’s and Pat Burrell and Chase Utley of the Phillies in attendance.
None of his teammates spoke at Lidle’s funeral, letting his family and close friends give their own personal testimonies of who Lidle was away from the diamond.
Lidle’s death is one of many deaths among prominent athletes whose life was cut short.
Roberto Clemente, hall-of-fame outfielder of the Pittsburgh Pirates in the 1970’s, died in a plane accident while on his way to Nicaragua.
The Oklahoma State basketball team lost two players, staffers and broadcasters in a plane crash in Colorado.
One of the most heart wrenching stories involves former PGA Golfer Payne Stewart. Four months after Stewart won his second U.S. Open, a plane carrying him and five others lost cabin pressure and crahsed in a field in South Dakota.
Known for his charity work, Stewart was so admired that at the Pinehurst No. 2 golf course where he won the U. S. Open, there is a statue of his clinching putt in the match.
Although Lidle may not be as well known, the Yankees and the world was reminded of how quickly a life can be taken. We should recognize how oblivious we can be when we focus more on things we have, rather than works we do.
