I wasn’t watching the Rangers game last night. I was watching my Chicago Cubs fall behind 8-0 in the sixth inning against the Washington Nationals. The Cubs had never, in their 135-year history, rallied from such a large deficit so late in a game on the road to win. That’s a record of 0-576, ESPN says. Â The team is having a lousy season, and I very nearly flipped over to something else rather than once again face disappointment. But some inner voice compelled me to stay with them, and my faith was rewarded. Six runs in the sixth, another two in the seventh, and a final victorious score of 10-9. I was so pumped by the win that I took to Twitter to honor the rookie second baseman who’d delivered the winning RBI.
After informing the Twitterverse that I would now name my firstborn either Darwin Barney, or Barney Darwin, I glanced over at my feed. That’s how I learned about the tragic accident in Arlington last night. My joy evaporated and suddenly seemed very small. As ridiculous as it is, I even felt a measure of guilt for my own celebrating.
We can go back to cheering our team soon enough (I’m actually headed to Rangers Ballpark tonight), but it seems appropriate to spend time with the grief we all should be feeling for Shannon Stone’s family this morning, especially for his 4-year-old 6-year-old son who was with him at the game. Lone Star Ball put it nicely:
It was after the game had ended, where we got to see Derek Holland have a great recovery from his worst performance of the season, when he heard the news. Shannon Stone was dead.
I had a flashback to all the memories I experienced with my father and how much he meant to me. And to know this boy will never get to have these moments with his old man makes me sick to my stomach. I don’t know what kind of man I am today without my father. My mom was damn good at her job, but there’s a special bond between father and son that is different, one that’s deeper.
Not only that, but to watch your own father die in front of you, at such a young age? I wouldn’t wish that on anybody.
It’s moments like these that sometimes make sports and the act of following a team feels so trivial. It was just a few hours earlier I was cursing out Derek Holland for a four pitch walk.
But that means nothing. What does matter is that there’s a young kid sleeping right now, and will wake up without a father in his life. I hope the Rangers do the right thing and donate a large sum of money to this family. But that can’t replace Shannon Stone. I only hope someone good in the kid’s life can act as a father figure to him. Someone who will take him to games and cheer him on as he runs the base paths. Someone who will give him a pat on the back after a bad game.
Someone who will just be there.
