GatewayRedbirds.com

StL Dan wrote:

TheoSqua wrote:

stlmark wrote:

Jmodene wrote:Mark,

Props for coming forth and saying that.

We often forget, in our attempts to be funny or critical (or both) in our role as fans that we're dealing with human beings here, but I commend you for having the guts to come back and recant as you did.

Thanks for the kind words Jmodene. I feel terrible for Josh and his family.

You shouldn't feel bad. You didn't value his life less than anyone else. Baseball is a game, and as such we place our opinions on someone as a player, and not a person. If you insulted him as a person, you'd have reason to feel bad, but you didn't.

++

fanforever wrote:http://msn.foxsports.com/mlb/story/6755210

Hancock's death puts game in perspective
Ken Rosenthal / FOXSports.com
Posted: 2 hours ago

The death of a young major leaguer is no more tragic than the death of a student at Virginia Tech, the death of a soldier in Iraq, the death of any young person anywhere in America on any given day.

The only difference is that Josh Hancock, even as a journeyman reliever with the St. Louis Cardinals, was an identifiable name, a member of the 2006 World Series champions.
People know who he was.

His death at 29 — like Cory Lidle's death last fall, like Darryl Kile's death in 2002 — is another jarring reminder that no one, not even a gifted athlete, is immune from the unpredictable, fleeting nature of life.

The clichés always come out at times like this — the games are only so important, this sure puts things in perspective, etc. After a while, it all sounds trite, but those sentiments actually are appropriate for such awful moments. Appropriate, because they ring true.

Hancock's death is a heck of a lot more important than, say, Joe Torre's job status. Then again, if not for the game's popularity — represented, in part, by the fixation on things such as Torre's job status — Hancock never would have gained a measure of fame or a major-league salary. For better or worse, that's how the world works.

In the end, Josh Hancock was part of a no-name bullpen that helped the Cardinals become an unlikely World Series champion. He can be replaced in a baseball sense — relievers at his level often are interchangeable — but tell that to his family.

Tell it to the Cardinals, whose early struggles seem rather trivial in the face of tragedy.

Tell it to any family that loses a young person, anywhere in America, at any time.

Ken Rosenthal is a senior baseball writer for FOXSports.com.

04/29/2007 6:56 PM ET
Baseball Perspectives
Mike Bauman

Hancock's death stuns baseball
Cardinals reliever's tragedy puts things in perspective


There are certain events that put everything in perspective. The problem is, some of these events are tragic.

For those of us who love the game, on most days from April through October, baseball seems like a vital organ -- you can't get along without it. The game is good enough that it deserves that status. But then you are reminded that victory and defeat are not matters of life and death.

It is Sunday, and the Yankees and the Red Sox are playing again at Yankee Stadium. This is an event that is justifiably regarded in Boston and New York as the epitome of importance. Every facet of the two teams is examined at length. Late Sunday morning, Yankee manager Joe Torre draws a large journalistic crowd as he describes the latest details of Carl Pavano's latest throwing session, the latest chapter in the latest attempted recovery from the latest injury.

Some of the scribes chuckle privately about this. It is obviously serious for Pavano and the Yankees, but it has also become something of a soap opera in which there is always the emergence of another sub-plot and there is never really a satisfactory conclusion.

And then in the next few minutes, there is no laughter. There is silence. This happens when people hear that another pitcher, Josh Hancock of the St. Louis Cardinals, died earlier this morning in an auto accident.

Everything stops there for a moment. Later, the Yankees and the Red Sox will still play a game. So will 26 other clubs. Life goes on, you know -- except when it doesn't. The Cardinals and the Cubs will postpone their Sunday night game because that is the one thing that can be done, that must be done to mark the passing of Joshua Morgan Hancock.

It's never the same day, though, when something like this happens. Sadness is death's constant companion, but when an athlete in his prime dies, there is also shock. This is somebody who is typically living a boyhood dream. If he is in the big leagues, he is at the peak of his profession. He is making a very nice living. At 29 years of age, at a glance, he seems to have risen beyond the normal trials and tribulations. But no, he hasn't.

"It was shocking when I found out about it earlier today, I was really sad about it, and I'm still shocked right now," Red Sox first baseman Kevin Youkilis said Sunday afternoon. Hancock came up through the Boston system, where Youkilis played with him in Double-A and the Arizona Fall League.

"It's alarming," said Jason Varitek, who caught Hancock when Hancock made his first appearances in the Majors, three games with the Red Sox in 2002. "It gives you lots of thoughts about just having the opportunity to be here on Earth."

The rest of it, the Yankees, the Red Sox, the hoopla, the hype, pales in comparison to an event such as this. You think about Josh Hancock a great deal on Sunday, well beyond the ballpark moment of silence that is requested in his memory. Maybe he wasn't a household name, but he was a member of the baseball family and he is owed at least that much. The death of a man not yet 30 years old is no less tragic because he had not achieved superstar status.

I have seen Josh Hancock pitch and I have seen him in Major League clubhouses. I would not pretend to know him, but I know this much about him: His teammates liked him, he was good enough to be a Major League pitcher, and he had the quality of persistence. He bounced around to four different organizations, before finding a consistent role with the Cardinals last year. He made a difference with them, appearing in 62 games in a season that eventually led to a World Series championship.

"At least he won a World Series before he died," Youkilis said. "Not too many guys can say that they won a World Series in a lifetime. I wish I could have congratulated him."

Hancock had just done the Cardinals another favor on Saturday, eating three innings, pitching capably, sparing the rest of the bullpen in a one-sided loss to the Cubs. Three innings, one earned run, two hits, one walk, two strikeouts. But that was to be Josh Hancock's last line.

"He always had good stuff, all the time, he was like an ace in the Minor Leagues," Youkilis said. "Josh was just one of those guys who loved playing ball, he loved pitching and he just battled."

The players who knew Hancock, asked for comments by the media because they knew him, said what should have been publicly said.

"You reach out to his family and everybody who's close to him," Varitek said. "It's just tragic."

"To all his family and friends out there, you say a prayer for them," Youkilis said. "The St. Louis Cardinals lost a good pitcher today."

You can explain away almost any defeat in a game, but the largest loss of all defies explanation. The game that Josh Hancock played is left with sadness and shock. The closest thing to knowledge is that the St. Louis Cardinals lost a good pitcher today.

Mike Bauman is a national columnist for MLB.com. This story was not subject to the approval of Major League Baseball or its clubs.