RIP, Nick Adenhart
When Jeff Pearlman called me last night, I kinda knew what it was about even before I listened to the voicemail. So I didn't listen to the voicemail at all. Just called him back. Turns out he was writing his column for Sports Illustrated's website (si.com or sportsillustrated.cnn.com or bigger-readership-than-I'll-ever-see.com) about Angels pitcher Nick Adenhart, the 22-year-old rookie who died earlier this week at the hands of an allegedly drunk driver who hit-and-ran, only to later get caught. Well, Jeff kept a close eye on my situation as well; wrote about it a lot; cared about it a lot more since we were fellow Blue Hens and all. (Side note: Fans of Kenny Powers? Well, ye might want to thank Pearlman for writing the John Rocker story that launched the Tale of Powers, methink. Want to show him your appreciation? Well, buy his new book about Clemens. It's good.)
I told him what I thought upon hearing the Adenhart news: That's a lot worse than what happened to me. The kid died, but I was afforded the chance to heal, which I'm still doing. Feel so bad for Nick's family.
Well, here is Jeff's column on the whole sad thing.
Maybe I'm too sensitive. Just last November Brian Hickey, a close friend and former managing editor of the Philadelphia City Paper, was crossing the street in Collingswood, N.J., when a hit-and-run driver plowed into him and left him for dead. In the days and weeks that followed, most of us assumed the worst -- Hickey's skull was cracked open, his back was broken and he was in an induced coma. It was a jarringly up-close, personal view of what reckless driving can to do a human being and his family, and even as Hickey has made a remarkable recovery (His Facebook group, "Help Me Find the Person Who Almost Killed Me," is a worthwhile endeavor), I still hold that anger deep inside.
Safe to say he's where I learned how to write in college, huh?