TO CHANGE BACK TIME...

Last month I blogged about not being able to part with the ancient Do Not Enter sign that gathers dust in my garage. I mentioned that it was given to me by a pal from the early 1970s, Baseball Ray. Little did I know that I would soon see his real name in the newspaper--in the form of an obituary. How could that be?

Ray was 6’7” and rock solid strong. He was cute in a boyish sort of way, a gentle giant who had a fun sense of humor. I met him in The Basement, a college pub in Pittsburg, through mutual friends. We each needed a partner for playing spades. He attended a bigger university, so he wasn’t home often, but we usually got together when he was back in town. I was probably stuck on him more than any other guy I dated in college, but I knew the relationship wasn’t going to last. He had bigger plans in mind: a professional baseball career loomed just around the corner, and I wasn’t in the mix.

The last time he called me was to break a date in Dallas, where I lived at the time. He had been drinking. I was angry and disappointed. “Well, whenever you get your act together, you know where I am.” But I never heard from him again. I was sad about that. I really did care for the guy.

Well, life goes on. The baseball career fizzled. He went back to college to finish his degree. I moved back to Kansas and got married. He got married and moved to Texas. Fast forward to the obituary.

It didn’t sound right. He died at his home in Missouri? The only surviving relatives were cousins? I thought he was still in Texas and had children. Why weren’t they listed? He was cremated and there would be a service at some unspecific later date. Why were his two years of minor league baseball listed as his only accomplishment? How did he die? What really happened to him? I had to find out. And I did.

Baseball Ray had died of alcohol poisoning. A self-induced, miserable death. All alone. In a rented trailer.

I’ve since wondered what happened in his life to lead to such a tragic, lonely ending. What causes a guy who, once upon a time, seemed to have it all? He was athletic, smart, funny, and had friends all over the place who admired him. Why would such a person turn into a hopeless drunk? I thought back to our last conversation so many decades ago, still a sad memory. Was it a sign of what was to come? “Get your act together.” I never thought it would lead to this. Who knows what troubles burden another person.

Rook, I pray your soul is in a better place and you have been released from your demons. And I wish someone had cared enough about you to save you from yourself. I’m sure I’m not the only old friend out of your past regretfully thinking, “Had I known…”