Lets Trivialize Death

Tightening the Bond TRAGEDY DREW THE CLOSE-KNIT INDIANS EVEN CLOSER

http://www.si.com/vault/1993/04/05/128320/tightening-the-bond-tragedy-drew-the-close-knit-indians-even-closer

Tightening the Bond TRAGEDY DREW THE CLOSE-KNIT INDIANS EVEN CLOSER

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BY TIM KURKJIAN

Originally Posted: April 5, 1993

THE PICNIC ON LITTLE LAKE Nellie was organized by two new members
of the Cleveland Indian family, pitchers Tim Crews and Bobby Ojeda.
The outing, on March 22 at Crews's lakefront house, was put together
at the last minute, however, and most of the other Cleveland players
already had plans for the only scheduled off day of spring training.
Pitcher Steve Olin, the leader of the Indian family, went because he
wanted to be with the new guys, to make them feel more welcome.
That was what Steve Olin was all about. That is what the 1993
Indians are all about. In this free-agent era, with players switching
teams constantly and team loyalty fading fast, clubhouse talk of a
team-as-family is often hollow and contrived. But not so in
Cleveland. With so many young players at their core, the Indians are
growing up together.
And when Olin and Crews were killed in a boating accident on that
little lake 25 miles west of Orlando, Fla., the Indians wept
together. It was dark when Crews, with Olin and Ojeda seated on
either side of him, apparently steered his 18-foot bass boat too
close to shore and struck a dock jutting 185 feet into the water.
Olin, 27, was killed instantly, and Crews, 31, died 10 hours later
from head injuries. Ojeda had surgery for severe head lacerations.
The Indians' unusual closeness was evident when 10 players
gathered in pitcher Charles Nagy's room for an all-night vigil after
hearing of the accident; at a team meeting the next morning, when 40
players huddled around manager Mike Hargrove and cried; at a memorial
service in Winter Haven, Fla., 48 hours after the tragedy, when
former Indian Andre Thornton, who lost his wife and a child in a car
accident a few years ago, gave a stirring eulogy that left the
players with tears in their eyes and smiles on their faces.
On March 25, before Cleveland's first game following the accident,
Hargrove said, ''There's a tremendous sense of family here. It's a
concept to take hold of. We have a lot of personalities and
nationalities here, but what we have in common is a sense of
responsibility to each other. We have problems like any team. But I
can't imagine doing anything else, anyplace else, with any people
other than these.''
Reliever Ted Power, who has been with seven teams in 13 years,
says, ''Nothing compares to the closeness on this team. I've never
heard from guys in the off-season as much as I have from these
guys.'' Adds Hargrove, who as a player spent almost seven years with
the Indians, ''On some teams you want five months away from your
teammates in the winter.''
It used to be that way in Cleveland, once a city where no one
wanted to play. But that began to change in December 1989, when the
Indians, who were losing about 90 games a year and were strapped for
cash, decided to rebuild with youth. They acquired catcher Sandy
Alomar Jr. and second baseman Carlos Baerga in an '89 trade that sent
star outfielder Joe Carter to the San Diego Padres. In '91
outfielders Glenallen Hill and Mark Whiten and pitcher Scott Scudder
were picked up in deals for veteran pitchers Tom Candiotti and Greg
Swindell. Other trades in the last two years, which at the time
appeared to be minor transactions, yielded centerfielder Kenny
Lofton, the runner-up in the '92 American League Rookie of the Year
vote, and first baseman Paul Sorrento. What's more, a rejuvenated
farm system produced Nagy, Olin and leftfielder Albert Belle.
The result is a Cleveland team on the rise, young (at 26 years, 10
months, the Indians had the youngest average age in the majors last
season) and hungry. General manager John Hart's plan has been to keep
this group together by giving his talented youngsters multiyear
contracts -- 18 Indians had them, the most of any team in baseball.
Lofton, 25, signed a four-year deal this winter, after only one
full year in the big leagues. ''It showed they had faith in me,''
Lofton says. ''And that's important. It's like being back in
college. As a freshman you know the guys you go in with will be there
four years later. Because we know we're going to be together, we're
in good spirits, we pick each other up. You don't see that much
anymore.''
In recent years you hardly ever saw any Indians living in
Cleveland during the off-season; now nine of them have bought houses
and reside there year- round. That means a lot to the fans.
Season-ticket sales for 1993 have tripled, to nearly 10,000, from
last year. That total will jump again next season when the Indians
move into a new stadium.
''The fans feel they're loved,'' says Hart. ''They think of our
kids as their own.'' The kids won 40 of their last 74 games in '92 to
finish fourth in the American League East. ''People in Cleveland are
eager for us to win now,'' says Alomar. ''I go to the supermarket,
and people are pumped. They say, 'You guys are going to do it this
year.' ''
Well, maybe not this year. Even before the tragedy, the Indians'
pitching was weak; it hasn't developed as quickly as the lineup has.
The reality is Cleveland is likely to finish closer to last place
than first.
The accident dealt a massive blow to the rebuilding effort, not
only because Olin (8-5, 29 saves, 2.34 ERA last year) was the
Indians' closer, but also because he exemplified the success of
Cleveland's plan. Though he had marginal stuff and a sidearm delivery
-- no one thought he would make it past Triple A -- Olin never quit.
Hargrove called him Mr. Rogers because he was so upbeat. Olin was the
p.r. department's go-to guy when it came to appearances, interviews,
whatever.
Crews, who was signed as a free agent in the off-season, broke
three ribs early in spring training but was going to make the team as
a middle reliever. Ojeda, who was released from the hospital on March
25 and is expected to return to the team, was being counted on as the
No. 2 starter.
With no obvious candidate on hand to replace Olin, the Indians
will operate a bullpen-by-committee, filling Olin's role on a
game-by-game basis. ''When you lose an Olin and a Crews, with a young
club, that's a major concern,'' says Hart. ''But, no excuses. We're
taking the high road. This tragedy is going to bring us closer.''
The bullpen was already the closest group, even before the
accident. Last year Olin, Power, Derek Lilliquist, Eric Plunk and
Kevin Wickander were inseparable. They had rituals, like walking to
the pen together before every game and levying a $5 fine on any
member of the group who didn't make the walk with the rest of them.
After Olin's death, his wife, Patti, gave some of her husband's
personal items and baseball equipment to his bullpen mates. Wickander
got Olin's watch. Power got his leather belt.
''I used to tell Stevie to use an elastic belt, like mine, because
it stretches,'' Power says. ''Stevie wouldn't. He told me, 'I wore
this belt when I broke in. I'll always wear this belt.' Well, that
baby is mine now. I'll always wear that belt.''
It will stay in the family.

Tragedy on the 'Perfect Day'

"For every four climbers to reach K2's summit, one dies. And if going up doesn't kill them, then coming back down could."

I was watching this video on ABC News and it made me go through so many emotions. Awe, fear, sadness, admiration and heartbreak to name a few. This is a short review of what happened Aug 2008. It will remind you of every mountain climbing movie you ever saw like Chris O'Donnell's and Sylvester Stallone's. But of course the consequences here are real. Maybe I am closer to a couch potato than Indiana Jones but I could not help but look at them and their desire to do this climb and ask "Why?" I guess some of us risk because of the meaning we place in the "reward". I still don't understand it but at least I know it's there.

All this is documented in a recently released book which I admit I am now very curious about. Granted I have an enormous backlog of unread books here that will not put me out of pocket.

There are no gruesome explicit scenes here but still they get their point across. For me it still connects emotionally. Views are fantastic. Interviews are heartbreaking. I'd like to know the emotions it brought out in you if any.

Ed





http://abcnews.go.com/Nightline/k2-deadliest-day/story?id=11358828

The 'Perfect' Day on K2 -- and How It Turned Deadly

Film of Climb and Survivors' Accounts Capture Swing From Euphoria on the Summit to a Terrifying Descent

By BILL WEIR and ALMIN KARAMEHMEDOVIC

Aug. 10, 2010 —

It was the worst day on the world's deadliest mountain, Aug. 1, 2008. Twenty-nine climbers headed for the summit. Only 18 would return.

K2 would kill the first Irishman ever to make the summit. It would kill a 61-year old grandfather on his third attempt. And it would kill one-half of mountaineering's most adored couple, soulmates in love with each other and with extreme adventure.

Thousands have conquered Mt. Everest, but only a few hundred have summited the world's second-highest peak, K2. Death is the recurring theme on K2, a steeper, tougher, riskier mountain that draws the brave and foolish into northern Pakistan each season.

For every four climbers to reach K2's summit, one dies. And if going up doesn't kill them, then coming back down could.

"Death during decent. This mountain is notorious for this," said climber Eric Meyer, an American doctor from Colorado.

Just getting to the base can be treacherous. Thrillseekers have to spend hours winding around dangerously narrow mountain roads in Jeeps, and then endure an eight-day hike before they can even get their first glimpse of K2 in person.

K2: Exclusive Footage

Filmmaker Fredrik Strang, with his cameras rolling, was among a group of mountaineers that converged on K2 two summers ago. "Nightline" was able to obtain his exclusive footage as he documented the team's hazardous journey through the walls of ice and rock.

Strang's videos show grim warnings of how vicious the mountain can be. Dozens of memorials dot the area around base camp. In places the mountain holds the remains of fallen climbers.

"You're standing close to a leg," one climber can be heard saying on camera.

In addition to Strang's videography, details of what happened on the mountain's deadliest day emerge in "No Way Down," a book by climber Graham Bowley, who visited the scene.

K2: The Death Zone

Aside from shifting ice, falling rocks, avalanches and sudden storms, climbers have to adapt to the high attitude and thinning air. When oxygen becomes scarce, the brain becomes foggy and muscles chill. Their journey can take months.

The maximum amount of time a climber has to get out of an oxygen-starved death zone is 18 hours.

"When you go up, your muscles tell you, 'You have to breathe now,'" said Norwegian climber Cecelia Skog.

Skog, 36, is the first woman to climb the highest peaks on all seven continents. She and her husband Rolf Bae tried to summit K2 once before, but turned back in bad weather. Their second attempt took a fatal turn.

Till Death Do Us Part

Skog joked that she had a hard time finding boyfriends who could keep up with her extreme hobby, until she met Bae, who proposed while they were skiing to the North Pole.

"[He got down on one knee] with his skis on," she said.

The couple was on K2 that fateful August day. They ascended quickly, but their climbing group was held up by other climbers at an especially treacherous passage known as the Bottleneck.

It was just before dark, and Bae began to feel weak.

"I gave him my oxygen and then I thought maybe he ... then he would feel better," Skog said.

But Bae couldn't recover. He encouraged his wife to continue on without him. Skog forged ahead and eventually made it to the peak of K2.

"It was amazing. It was fantastic. We could see that shape of K2, that shadow," Skog said of her experience on the summit. "We could see so far into China. It was, uh ... there was no wind, the sun was still up."

Skog was one of 14 to make it to the K2 summit that day. When she climbed back down, her husband was waiting to celebrate their impressive achievement.

"He was so happy. That was the way he was. He was ... he was so happy for us ... that we had that experience," Skog said. "He didn't need to be there himself."

Then suddenly tragedy struck as the group made their way back down to base camp.

While passing under a massive serac, or overhang of ice, a mini-avalanche struck the group. The falling ice cut safety ropes and swept Bae off the mountain.

In a daze, Skog managed to pick her way down to base camp in the dark. She hoped that her husband had survived the fall and would be waiting for her there.

"I just thought, 'OK, he has to be. Of course he's gone to the tent. He's in the tent,'" she said.

But Bae was gone.

And over the next several hours, many climbers would join him.

http://www.amazon.com/No-Way-Down-Life-Death/dp/0061834785

http://www.nowaydownthebook.com/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=jTasjUwCLyI

Riding the Momentum of Death

I really dread death. More for people around me than for myself. There is nothing like being told someone is gone. I know its part of life but does not change the fact I dread when it arises. One day people will be told that I am gone. I hope by then I will leave a lot more than I am leaving now.

There is an old expression "He is so heartless he would sell tickets to his mother's funeral". Remember that statement because we will revisit it. By now my regular readers will know the major themes that I see the issues with. a) substance over style b) don't jump on the bandwagon c) what is good is good regardless of age or other factors.

Let's examine three recent high profile deaths.

1) Cory Aquino-

apparently a wave of yellow sympathy swept the nation after she succumbed to cancer. A tsunami so significant that some people are taking out their surf boards (and they are not in Zambales) and riding that wave. My initial reaction when I heard her son Noynoy was running was , the guy was a politician but not a mover and shaker They are having someone who was a mover and shaker (Mar Roxas) who has been planning for his run to the Palace a while, step aside. To make way for someone who is carried by the outpouring sympathy of a cancer victim. Maybe I am oversimplifying things but sue me when the Filipino voter is correctly accused of being sophisticated and discriminating.

I am not a crack analyst of the local scene since I find politics is seamless with ABS-CBN/ GMA show business. So it's no use paying too much attention if I want to keep my blood pressure from being capable of cooking rice.

I found some links of people whose view varies on the topic so you can get some sort of perspective.

In the case of Noynoy Aquino I can't help but suspect his run at the highest office in the land is fueled by the philosophy "Strike while metal is hot"

I read the line below and it's simply a PR line. Maybe somebody closer to the situation can see the fearlessness and the fervor. I have my doubts.

"It is in his bloodline. It is in his heritage. For him, democracy restored must be enshrined without fear but with greatest fervor."

http://www.senate.gov.ph/senators/sen_bio/aquino_noynoy_bio.asp

A lot of people really respect the opinion Mr. De Quiros and I am no exception. He seems to think that Noynoy is appropriate but then again how come I get the feeling for him its any presidential offspring other than Mikey Arroyo?

http://opinion.inquirer.net/inquireropinion/columns/view/20090909-224319/Yes-he-can

Here is another Inquirer columnist who has his doubts.

http://opinion.inquirer.net/inquireropinion/columns/view/20090908-224128/Noynoy-I-do-not-know

2) Ted Kennedy

My friend Greg in Vegas is a very astute Twitterer. He said "Honoring someone's memory is about the worst imaginable reason to pass any law."

Yet that is what the Democrats seemed to be doing without apology before the corpse was warm. The GOP apparently not exactly hitting the high road on this either.

http://www.thedailyaztec.com/state-of-mind/flaming-liberal-ted-kennedy-s-death-will-affect-health-care-bill-1.1849120

http://abcnews.go.com/Politics/TedKennedy/story?id=8420408

http://americaswatchtower.com/2009/08/26/democrats-politicize-ted-kennedys-death-to-pass-healthcare-reform/

Honoring someone's memory is about the worst imaginable reason to pass any law.12:01 AM Aug 29th from web http://twitter.com/GregVegas

3) Michael Jackson-

do you remember as far back as May of this year? When there was no MJ music being played wherever you went? Which was the case for almost twenty years.If this music is so great why listen to it now and not three months ago? Why does death add to the appeal? Why does death make the bandwagon more spacious, roomy and comfy? Could it be MJ music was not in fashion two years ago because it may not be as classic as some of us would like to believe?

As I mentioned before, even in my home and in my office, maids, co- workers playing MJ music like it was released yesterday. Like they are sages handing out gifts from the gods. A guy I consider a great sage Ian Faith said back in 1982 "Every movie in every cinema is about death, death sells". In the case of MJ he could not be more right. Death indeed sells regardless of multiple child molestation charges.

Also read about MJ's father Joe who seems to personify the opportunism. His shilling of his label two days after MJ's death makes him sound like he is saying "the kid is not my son."

http://www.people.com/people/package/article/0,,20287787_20287946,00.html

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ahp61XJZNdM

http://www.popcrunch.com/jackson-family-horrified-by-joe-jackson-record-label-plug-during-tribute-to-dead-son/

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=wx6fwfBKCIQ&feature=related

http://www.nydailynews.com/money/2009/06/27/2009-06-27_his_music_makes_a_comeback_death_sends_cd_and_mp3_sales_soaring.html


Ed

The Tragedy of the Death of Len Bias

The following story can be frightening if you truly get it. I also remember the day Len Bias died. My basketball junkie friend Sean Beattie called me from Ontario in shock. Two years later in Langara (Vancouver Community College) one of my good classmate friends Alison White told me that she knew Len Bias in University of Maryland. For me that was sheer coincidence because who would lie about that in Vancouver?
For me this will always be one of the great what ifs in the history of sports:

What if Len Bias did not overdose on cocaine and ended up playing really well for the Celtics?

Not that I am a Celtics fan by any stretch of the imagination. I come from the school of rooting against who everybody else roots for. Celtics were always winning in the 80's. I jumped on the Detroit bandwagon because I admired Isiah Thomas and Kelly Tripucka. I also saw in them a team that could topple the Celtics stranglehold on the east.

The Len Bias question still makes me wonder what would have happened though. How the NBA landscape would have changed? Another mega What If sports question I always dwell on is what if baseball played a complete 1994 season? And I may revisit that at some point.

Back in 1988 , Tommy Lasorda had a speaking engagement in Vancouver. His Dodgers were fresh off the more unlikely championships any of us will ever see. One of my all time favorite Lasorda quotes. He was accused by his wife" you love baseball and football more than me!". His reply "But I love you more than basketball and hockey! " Don't you find it disturbing a 43 year old unmarried guy values that quote??

But I digress. They were showing highlights of his talk in Vancouver on local TV. He was saying drugs were bad news. To prove his point he said "If we could dig Len Bias out of the ground , what would he say about drugs?"

You know my philosophy by now. Tragedy will be a greater tragedy if we do not learn from mistakes. Len Bias is proof that drugs are not cool. Yet the lessons are ignored.

Below I give you Bill Simmons. A man I enjoy listening to on his podcast the BS Report. He takes us back to a time when this tragedy unfolded. And how his 16 year old brain could not process the enormity of it all.


Ed





http://proxy.espn.go.com/espn/page2/story?id=1216291

Wednesday, June 20, 2001
Updated: June 26, 2:35 PM ET
Still haunted by Len Bias

---

By Bill Simmons
Page 2 columnist

Editor's Note: This column originally ran on June 20, 2001. Page 2 is republishing it in 2006 in remembrance of Len Bias' death 20 years ago. Yeah, I still think about him.

	Has anyone ever looked happier than Len Bias on Draft Day 1986?

Sometimes I see red. That's the color of Maryland's uniform when Lenny Bias won me over for good, the February day he tossed the Terrapins on his back and toppled the No. 1-ranked Tar Heels by himself. Given that my team (the Celtics) was holding a potential top-five pick in the '86 draft that summer, I almost broke an ankle hurling myself onto the Bias Bandwagon. There was one play when Bias drained a 15-footer, then came flying back in to steal the inbounds pass and dunk the ball behind his head, fluidly, all in one motion. I can't even really describe it. When somebody makes The Leap right before your eyes in sports ... well, you remember. You always remember. Sometimes I see brown. That's the color of a Spalding basketball as it falls into the hands of Larry Bird. The Man is still in his prime -- goofy mullet, wispy mustache, almost bored by it all, searching for little challenges during games to maintain his interest -- and he's jogging upcourt and bouncing that brown ball. Suddenly he spots Bias one stride ahead of the pack. Their eyes lock. What the hell? The Man lofts a lazy halfcourt pass in the air ... the ball looks like it might sail over the backboard and into the stands ... but then there's Bias gaining steam, soaring through the air, rising higher and higher ... and Good God, he might actually get to that thing ... and the brown ball hangs up there, forever... Sometimes I see green. That's Draft Day 1986. A green Celtics hat crammed on Bias' head, millions and millions of green dollars ahead of him, green with experience, holding up the green and white uniform ... nothing but green. That smile on Draft Day, will the image ever completely fade away? Did anyone seem happier, ever? He looked like a little boy, didn't he? Can you still see him? I can. I see that smile and I see miles of green.

	Bias' high-flying game would have been the perfect addition to the Celtics' "Big Three."

Sometimes I see white. That's a pile of cocaine on a coffee table. Maybe it happened this way, maybe it didn't, but I always imagine Lenny Bias turning that Celtics hat around so the bill of his cap wouldn't dip into the pile ... then I imagine him sticking his face into it like Tony Montana. He's happy, he's celebrating, he's kicking butt and taking names, he's feeling like he could bench-press Luther Vandross, he's the life of the party, he's suddenly a millionaire, he's the next James Worthy, he's the heir apparent to Bird in Boston, his prime awaits, and he's utterly and completely invincible. And he crams his face into that white pile. And he takes the Celtic Dynasty with him. Sometimes I see gray. That's the color of the concrete on Wyndover Lane in Stamford, Conn. -- the street where I lived as a kid -- which is relevant since I wandered up and down that street for an entire afternoon on the heels of Bias' death. It took me six hours to digest everything that had happened, my first real experience with sudden loss. Once ESPN started flashing those "Len Bias is dead" graphics that morning -- the "Where were you when Kennedy was shot?" moment for all Boston/Maryland fans -- I spent the first few hours in utter denial. Did it really happen? Is it true? Is it possible they screwed up? Are we absolutely, positively -- positive -- that he's dead? Can they give him CPR one last time? Is this a joke? Is this even possible? I finally ended up storming outside during the middle of the afternoon -- June 19, 1986 -- and paced up and down Wyndover Lane for three inexplicable hours. I'm not kidding. Three hours. I walked up. I walked down. I walked up. I walked down. Rinse, lather, repeat. Just a 16-year-old kid looking for an answer. All I found was gray. You can drive yourself crazy thinking about it. And you know what? I almost did. Yeah, I still think about him.

***** ***** *****

I thought about him last February, when ESPN Classic showed that aforementioned Maryland-UNC game from '86. You forget how good Lenny Bias was. For example, back in '86, Mike Tyson was invincible, Eddie Murphy had his fastball, Don Johnson was the coolest man on the planet and Michael Jackson didn't look like an alien. Hoosiers hadn't even been released yet. Wayne Gretzky and Bird were basically the kings of sport. Ronald Reagan controlled the button. Kids were still playing Intellivision and Atari. Fifteen years is a long time; maybe it's easy to forget As for Bias, he always reminded me of a more physical James Worthy, but with Michael Jordan's leaping ability, if that makes sense (other than MJ and Dominique Wilkins, nobody in the 80's attacked the basket like a young Lenny Bias). But those weren't even the qualities that separated him from his peers.

	Len Bias, left, attacked the basket like Michael Jordan and Dominique Wilkins.

There was a brashness about him, a swagger, a playground vibe. Remember, these were still the days of tight shorts and awkward high fives; few players were cool, and the ones who were cool -- David Thompson, Gus Williams, Clyde Drexler, Bernard King, Dominique, etc. -- were more subtle and unassuming than anything. Jordan might have embraced that playground demeanor had he attended a school other than North Carolina, where Dean Smith frowned on anything that could be perceived as "showing up the opposition." When Bias' same playground swagger became fashionable in the '90s -- thanks to the UNLV guys, the Fab Five, the post-dunk woofing, the baggy shorts, the trash-talking and so on -- it seemed much more contrived, almost like the players were saying, "Hey, look at me!" Nothing about Lenny Bias was contrived. He went out of his way to dunk on people. He grabbed rebounds and spat out an occasional "Arrrrrrggggggghhhh!" for show. He barked at his teammates, he barked at referees, he barked at opponents. He exhibited a refreshingly honest amount of passion and heart. Quite simply, he stood out. And if he had arrived on the scene seven or eight years later, I'm sure he would have been wearing baggy shorts and woofing it up just like everyone else, but that's the beautiful thing about this -- not just that Bias arrived when he did, but that he wasn't contrived. Even if he ended up with a team other than the Celtics in '86, I would have kept rooting for him. Lenny Bias was ahead of his time. So that UNC game on ESPN Classic reminded me of these things, all of them. Other than Jordan, no basketball player from the '80s resonated with the black community quite like Bias. He reminded them of everything that they valued about the game itself -- the breathtaking athleticism, the competitive fervor, the individuality, those occasional mano-a-mano duels where territories were staked and reputations were made. He belonged to them, a black man excelling in a black man's game. And seeing him in action with Maryland, his whole life ahead of him ... well, I had to turn the channel and watch something else. I couldn't take it.

***** ***** *****

		Maybe it happened this way, maybe it didn't, but I always imagine Lenny Bias turning that Celtics hat around so the bill of his cap wouldn't dip into the pile ... then I imagine him sticking his face into it like Tony Montana. He's happy, he's celebrating, he's kicking butt and taking names. ... And he crams his face into that white pile. And he takes the Celtic Dynasty with him.

I thought about him last March, when the Utah Jazz came into Boston to play the Celtics, I glanced at my program before the game and noticed that Karl Malone was playing in his 16th season for the Jazz. That triggered a Bias flashback for me because the Mailman had entered the league in '85, a year before Bias, well ... you know. Would Bias still be chugging along, much like Malone? Would he have stayed clean? Did he have a drug problem in the first place? Was that awful night at Washington Hall just an aberration? Would he have approached the 32,000 points and 15,000 rebounds that Malone compiled over the course of his career? What would he look like? Would he still be playing in Boston? Would he have a few tattoos? Would he have a shaved head? Would we call him Len or Lenny? Finally my girlfriend nudged me, snapping me out of my stupor. "What are you thinking about?" she asked me. "Nothing," I said.

***** ***** *****

I thought about him later that same month, when I was cleaning out my office and found a yellowed feature that I had written for the Boston Phoenix back in December of '95 called "The Curse of Lenny Bias" -- a piece which described every dreadful moment that happened to the Celtics since Bias' death. You won't find a more vivid example of a single tragedy altering the destiny of a sports franchise. The Celtics has just captured their third championship in six years, they were bringing back the Big Three (Bird, McHale and Parish) in their respective primes, and they were adding the most explosive college player in the country. Within 48 hours, Bias was dead; the franchise would eventually follow suit. It happened slowly. The champions limped through the regular season in '87, with Bird and McHale logging big minutes from October to June and carrying them to another appearance in the Finals (a painful loss to the Lakers in six, and yes, the Celts were a player short). McHale injured his foot during the last month of the season, returned for the playoffs, fractured that same foot and, incredibly, kept playing on it. He was never the same player again. And Bird's body was never the same after that season; over the next few years, he started to break down like the Bluesmobile. How many titles would Bias have been worth? How many years would he have added to the careers of Bird and McHale? Is it safe to argue that the addition of Len Bias to the '86 Celtics would have locked up at least two or three more titles in the '80s? We'll never know.

	Red Auerbach and the Celtics haven't been the same since Bias' death.

The bad luck continued through the '80s and into the '90s. Bird and McHale broke down for good during a brief resurgence for the team in '91, the last time the Celts ever truly contended for a title. Red Auerbach slowly faded from the scene during that time; many believe that a little piece of Red passed away in '86, given that Red was a staunch Bias supporter during his Maryland days. Reggie Lewis dropped dead in '93 and sent the franchise into permanent doldrums; not only did the team lose its only All-Star caliber player, but the ensuing "Did he or didn't he use drugs?" soap opera cast a shadow over the next few seasons. Suddenly the team was hampered by salary cap problems and inept management. Once the Boston Garden was pushed aside by the Fleet Center in 1995, the glory days of the Celtics disappeared for good. My "Curse of Bias" piece from '95 ended with an anecdote from former Celtics general manager Jan Volk, who remembered a moment before Opening Night in November 1986, the same night the Celtics handed out championship rings and raised the '85-'86 championship banner. About two hours before the game, Volk noticed a piece of paper sticking out from a cushion of the sofa in his office. Curious, he pulled out the piece of paper and found that it was an unused plane ticket with Lenny Bias' name on it. The team had given it to him during his post-draft visit to Boston, about 12 hours before his death. "It must have fallen out of his jacket that day," Volk told me. "To find that ticket on the same night we were raising the '86 banner ... it was eerie. It really was." Makes you think, doesn't it? Did the Sports Gods decide that too many good things happened for the Celtics over the past few decades? Red, Cousy, Heinsohn, Russell, the Jones Boys, Cowens, Hondo, McHale, Parish, Bird, 16 titles ... when they stumbled into the second pick of the '86 Draft and Lenny Bias in '86, did the Sports Gods throw their hands in the air and say, "Enough is enough!" Does stuff like that actually happen? These are the things you think about when you're holding a yellowed page with Lenny Bias' picture on it.

***** ***** *****

I thought about him last April. A college buddy of mine and I were discussing Shawn Kemp's battle with cocaine, which landed him in a drug rehab program right before the NBA playoffs were about to commence. Neither of us could understand why a professional athlete would even mess with cocaine after Lenny Bias's death.

	Bias' death served as a giant anti-drug ad for kids who grew up in the 1980s.

"I remember when Bias died," my friend said, "that put the fear of God in me." "Me, too," I agreed. "Everyone was like that. It was like this giant brainwashing of all the teenagers at that time -- don't do coke. Len Bias was like a human anti-drug ad." "Maybe that was his legacy." "Yeah, maybe it was." And we moved onto another topic ... but I found myself thinking about it later that night. Why did that have to be Lenny Bias's legacy? Why couldn't they have chosen someone else? More importantly, 15 years later, why did I still care?

***** ***** *****

	We'll never know what Bias might have done if he'd gotten the chance to play in David Stern's league.

I thought about him last week. My girlfriend asked me about the topic of my next ESPN.com column, so I told her I would be writing about Lenny Bias. Who was that? she asked. So I told her the whole story. She soaked in everything, finally piping in, "I can't believe that he died two days after they drafted him. That's unbelievable. (pause) I mean, isn't that unbelievable? Has anything like that ever happened before?" Having just finished recounting the sordid saga, I found myself nodding in agreement. It's the same way I feel whenever I remember the fact that Red Sox pitchers threw 13 different pitches that could have won them the 1986 World Series. That's unbelievable. That's unbelievable. You couldn't make that up. And you couldn't make up the sequence of events that shaped the last 48 hours of Lenny Bias' life. Imagine having the greatest day of your life. Imagine working towards a goal for years and finally having it come to fruition. Imagine celebrating for two straight days with your family and friends. Then imagine you got a little carried away, and in a flash -- boom! -- paramedics are trying to revive you, but they can't, and things slowly start fading to white ... and then you're gone. Imagine. Later that same day, I received an e-mail from my friend Tim -- a Maryland native and one of the original Bias fans back in the '80s -- warning me about ESPN Classic's impending show about the 15th anniversary of Bias's death. I wrote him back and explained that I would be skipping the show, but I was toying with the idea of writing a column about Bias.

		And maybe that's what this was really about: in a nutshell, 1) betrayal and 2) sadness. It doesn't happen that often in sports, but when those two emotions collide for the proverbial kick in the stomach, you remember. And when that happens in your formative years, you hold onto the lingering side effects forever -- emptiness, grief, anger, disappointment, dismay, everything.

About 15 minutes later, Tim sent me a return e-mail that ended like this: "I will look for the Bias article. Truly one of the saddest days of my life. We all looked up to him." And maybe that's what this was really about: in a nutshell, 1) betrayal and 2) sadness. It doesn't happen that often in sports, but when those two emotions collide for the proverbial kick in the stomach, you remember. And when that happens in your formative years, you hold onto the lingering side effects forever -- emptiness, grief, anger, disappointment, dismay, everything. You harbor those feelings, each of them, all of them, a permanent grudge. And it doesn't go away. It just doesn't. And if none of this makes sense . . . well, it never happened to you. That's why I avoided watching that ESPN Classic show about Lenny Bias on Tuesday night. That's why I still have trouble discussing the whole thing. That's why I feel myself getting angry even as my fingers rattle on my keyboard at this very moment. Yeah, I still think about him. And I hate it. Last week, Bill Simmons folded up his award-winning "Boston Sports Guy" site at bostonsportsguy.com, where he wrote for the past four years. Simmons is a Page 2 columnist.


http://vault.sportsillustrated.cnn.com/vault/article/magazine/MAG1064980/index.htm (full Sports Illustrated Story)

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IdpmlbW6Nu4

http://www.bouncemag.com/2009/05/21/len-bias-playground-basketball-maryland-terps-alejandro-ali-danois/

Tags: len bias, premature death, boston celtics, drugs, drug abuse, overdose, death, cocaine

Four Months Three Priests

Shame on me that it took the combined loss of three good men to get a mention here. When you consider all the trivial stuff this space is filled with. Our loss is heaven's gain. I admit that I am not a saint. But as long as you know the two things I will admit to being semi good at is speaking up for the unborn in a world that trivializes them and I help priests. Better late than never.







1) December 11 2008 Father Pat Lim. I first remember meeting him when I did my two years in the Philippine Stock Exchange. I found out later that he was good friends with the family so I may have met him earlier. I served for him when he did the First Friday masses in the building. I will never forget his sermon pre Edsa II. Do you want our country to symbolize the mistresses and the mansions? That was the main point of the impeachment trial. More information about him here.






2) March 13 2009 Fr. Tom Green Again a good friend of the Jalandonis. For years he was just a voice on the phone to me. I would call him to confirm our service was done properly. He was a key figure in the later life of my aunt and he meant so much to her. He spoke at her funeral but we never got a chance to speak. We did get our chance a year later and you can see that picture here. I was partnered with my other uncle that evening and Fr. Green joined our table late. Sporting a beer which we had not seen earlier . We remarked on his beverage and his only reply was " beer is only for the clergy." Anyway please read about him from people that knew him better than I did.









3) April 17 2009 Fr. Jerome Angulo

I don't have too much to say about Fr. Jerome except we are the same age. I also think that in the last year and a half of his life it seems to me he did well in a post that I personally would find difficult. His post required him to get a collection of various souls going in the same direction. That collection ranged from the very pious to the very superficial and all points in between. I have seen politicians here manipulate the Church for their own ends. If they truly used the Church for what they are supposed to then they would leave their campaigning and ill intentions at the door. Sadly that is not the case. I really avoid San Antonio on the weekends because many treat it as the place to be seen. A place to throw their weight around. Not necessarily a place conducive to worship. Because a sad by product of having a Catholic majority is the Church is part of society. Whatever shallow behavior exists for the benefit of spectators on the outside gets dragged to the inside. So my Sundays I choose churches with less pretentious parishioners. Father Jerome took this challenge as his last duty on Earth and I hope he has made a difference.


***************************************************

There you have it. Three men whose mission on Earth is over. I am glad those three made their way into my life.



Ed


addendum: Should anyone argue with what I said about San Antonio. Please know I have witnessed personally being used as a platform for elections. A year and a half ago I remember they made the simple act of bringing up the offertory a barangay election ploy. Saying who was bringing what and what they were running for. If any San Antonio people get pissed by what I said in piece, explain that??















Related Links


http://monkshobbit.wordpress.com/2009/03/16/fr-danny-huang-sj-on-the-death-of-fr-thomas-h-green-sj-1932-2009/

http://read.i.ph/blogs/read/2009/03/14/for-fr-tom-green/

http://blogs.gmanews.tv/sidetrip/blog/index.php?/archives/421-Retreat-to-heaven.html

http://cornholiogogs.multiply.com/journal/item/214/Jimmy_V_Foundation_all_about_Love_Living_and_Fighting_Cancer

http://edrlopez.blogspot.com/2009/04/walang-hiya.html


http://cornholiogogs.multiply.com/tag/erap

Tags: priests, death , San Antonio