The Sunday Memory Drawer - Out of the Blue

Some memories on Sundays are ages old.   There are times, though, where a memory lingers on for over a week.   Like last Sunday when the world lost Kobe Bryant, his daughter, a college baseball fan, his family.....

Senseless.

There are those times in life where the words "sudden death" mean a lot more than a tied game in basketball or football.  There really is such a thing that is much more sinister and life-altering and....no pun intended...game changing.

I suppose most of us have had the experience in our own existences when someone we care about suddenly is gone.  If you are one of those rarities who has not endured this emotion, thank your Lord and maker.  It is truly a horrible feeling.  

In my world, it has occurred multiple times.   I was 6 when my dad's brother was suddenly gone at the age of 45.  In reality, he had been sick for a month.  My young mind didn't know that.   All I knew was that my dad sat me in the Buick and told me Uncle Fritz had gone to Heaven.

I was 17 when my mom's brother-in-law had a massive heart attack and died.  Also at the age of 45.   I was older, but it was still not easy to see the grief in my cousins who were very close to my age.

There have been others in my sphere.   The sister of my best friend from high school.   Killed by a drunk driver.   The vibrant son of my lifelong best friend from childhood.  A freak accident precipitated again by alcohol and the careless driver of a boat.  

The sensation was always the same.  Out of the blue.   Gone.  Inexplicably.   Indescribably.  And I would mourn and try somehow to help and comfort.

But when it happens to a public figure and his 13-year-old daughter, we all mourn and try somehow to deal.  Okay, I'm not a basketball fan but I know how much this guy meant to the people of Los Angeles.  And the spontaneous outpouring of grief from pop-up memorial sights reminded me of how people dealt with the shooting of John Lennon.

When this happens to an athlete who is still in his prime and so alive, it is still hard to comprehend.   How often has this happened in my lifetime?   And how often has it happened that a life literally fell out of the sky?  There are so many to even fathom.  You can find them on Google.

In 1931, the legendary football star Knute Rockne.  Plane crash.

In 1961, the United States Figure Skating team.  Plane crash.

In 1970, the Marshall University college football team.   Plane crash.

Again, in 1970, half of the Wichita State college football team.  Plane crash.

In 1977, the Evansville college basketball team.   Plane crash.

In 1999, golfer Payne Stewart.  Plane crash.

Young.   Athletic.  Gone.

I think about my very favorite sports.   America's National Pastime.   The Pittsburgh Pirates' Roberto Clemente delivering relief supplies to Nicaragua on New Year's Eve.   I had just seen him play the Mets several months ago.   

A few years later, even closer to home...

The New York Yankees' catcher Thurman Munson.   Piloting his own plane and plummeting to the ground somewhere in Ohio.  I had just seen him play on TV the night before.   His very last at-bat.

I remember the heartbreak of the city on the day after his death when the Yankees had a home game.   On that date, all baseball fans were truly New York Yankee fans.

On that night, they left the catcher's spot behind home plate empty for a few moments in his honor.  If I'm not mistaken, the team has kept his locker intact ever since.

There are others since.   The Phillies' Roy Halladay.  The Yankees' Cory Lidle.

Plane crashes.

Regardless of how they leave us, there is a common thread of suddenness and shock that connects them all.   When it's an athlete with great accomplishments to their name, it makes no sense.

Indeed, I hope it ultimately makes sense at the end.   Because, as we all continue on in life, it doesn't add up to the rest of us.

Dinner last night:  Sausage, peppers, and onions at Carlo's in Yonkers.