Fallen Angel: Adenhart so young, gone so quickly
The minivan ran a red light.
Minivans run red lights every day. So do all sorts of other vehicles for all sorts of reasons. Driver not paying attention. Distracted. Talking. Sleepy. Alcohol. None of the reasons are good ones. But they're out there, and you just pray that when it happens, the intersection is clear and you or your loved ones have already passed through.
• Angels mourn Adenhart | Remembered | Last game | Tragedies
With echoes of the most triumphant professional evening of his young life still reverberating early Thursday morning, Nick Adenhart had not passed through. Nor had the three others in the silver Mitsubishi with him.
And in a split second, those echoes were interrupted by crunching metal and dashed dreams.
Now we're left to blink back another tragedy.
And as a cold shudder chills our bones and we catalog another horrible moment, all that's left is to hug your family even tighter, count your blessings even harder, say your prayers even longer.
"Life is fragile," said Angels outfielder Torii Hunter, who learned of Adenhart's stunning death in a phone call from his wife early Thursday morning. "You never know when it's your time to go."
You know Nick Adenhart. He's the kid who already was dreaming big by the time he was 9. The kid who caused others to shake their heads in amusement when he told everyone he would be a professional baseball player one day. Yeah, sure, kid.
He's the young man who put his head down and rolled up his sleeves when things didn't go his way, more determined than ever. The guy who could have easily watched those dreams fade away when the doctors told him he needed Tommy John ligament transfer surgery, but instead gripped those dreams even harder.
"He fought to get here," agent Scott Boras was saying Thursday morning. "That says a lot about Nick, and a lot about his parents, and what type of child they raised. They raised someone who battled."
"He grew as much as any person I've been around in the last four years," Angels manager Mike Scioscia said.
He dropped from being a sure first-round draft pick in 2004 to the 14th round because of that elbow injury. Nevertheless, the Angels believed in him enough that they still paid him second-round money, some $710,000.
Over the past 12 months, Adenhart quickly was fulfilling that belief. He pitched exceptionally well last spring but couldn't carry it over during just three starts for the Angels in 2008. This spring, he was lights out. The club's best pitcher. His command was better, his delivery was better.
That, combined with injuries to John Lackey and Ervin Santana, helped him push his way back onto the Angels roster for opening day. Adenhart had arrived, and there was no telling how good he could be this season and beyond.
"He had really cleaned things up," an Angels baseball man said.
Jim Adenhart, Nick's father, had flown cross country from Baltimore to watch him pitch those six shutout innings Wednesday night against the Oakland A's.
Only instead of talking about them on Thursday morning, Jim was sitting at his son's locker in a nearly deserted Angels clubhouse, the echoes having turned to sobs.
You know Nick Adenhart. He's the son of whom you're so, so proud. The friend who's always there. The embodiment of some of the best ideals our young people have to offer.
He's also now, wrenchingly, the father, mother, brother or friend of yours whose life has been tragically touched by a drunken driver. According to Orange County police, preliminary test results indicated that the minivan driver's blood-alcohol level was above the legal limit. Also according to police, the driver had a suspended license because of a previous drunken driving conviction.
According to the website alcoholalert.com, an astounding 32 percent of traffic fatalities in the United States for the year 2006 -- the most recent year listed -- involved an alcohol-impaired driver.
There were two others in the car who died with Adenhart, and a third who remains in critical condition, and their lives, of course, were -- and are -- worth every bit as much as Adenhart's.
It's just that, of course, not everyone can be squeezed into the headlines. And it is Adenhart's public profile that drives home the tragedy, helps cry out for tougher drunken driving laws in this country, causes us to pause an extra second or two from our too-busy lives to, however fleetingly, agree that yes, we need to slow down and appreciate what we have and, most especially, value those in our lives whom we hold most dear.
Life is fragile, and the obstacles are many. The best we can hope for is to duck at the right time here and leap out of the way at the right time there. Every day is a gamble, for all of us, and you never know when it's your time to go.
"Treat people like you want to be treated," Hunter said. "And live life to the fullest."
Amen, amen, amen.
Adenhart, an angel now instead of an Angel, was 22.
