From Triumph to Tragedy

I am sure most of you have never heard of Pat Neshek and have never had a reason to know who he is.  He is one many great stories on the Oakland A's AL West championship team.  He is a relief pitcher who arrived on the scene with the Minnesota Twins in 2006 and had a great start to his career.  After a not so good year in 2008, he was sidelined with Tommy John surgery the following season.  Since that time, he has bounced from Minnesota to San Diego to Baltimore's AAA club in Norfolk to Oakland the last three seasons.  Since arriving in Oakland, Neshek seemed to have finally found his groove in the majors and was a lock to be on the A's postseason roster.  When the A's clinched a playoff spot, he could not believe his good fortune.  A few days later, he was called away from his club to be a part of the birth of his first child.  The following day the A's finish a sweep of the Texas Rangers and clinch the AL West, one of the most dramatic and exciting comebacks to win a division in years.  How could life get any better?

Just hours after watching his team make a miraculous (in a sports context)comeback, Pat Neshek's world came crashing down.  His son, only 23 hours old, passed away.  There was no rhyme, no reason for what happened.  In a matter of hours, the elation and joy that Neshek was experiencing in both his professional and personal lives had come to a screeching halt.  I can't even begin to imagine what going through such a horrific event would be like.  I am a father of three and to think of the unthinkable happening to them is excruciating.  Neshek and his wife, Stefanee, have gone from being on top of the world to having to pull themselves up from the most devastating of tragedies.  Instead of asking how life can get any better, they have to be wondering when life will get better.

For the foreseeable future, I am sure they will feel like it will never get any better.  They will have to deal with their grief, with the people who mean well but aren't really helping, and the awkward silences from people who don't know what to say.  Inevitably, someone who has never lost a child at birth or shortly after will tell them they know what they are going through, yet don't.  And in all of that, Pat Neshek will have to make a decision about when is the right time to return to baseball.  If he doesn't this year, who could blame him?  It would have to be virtually impossible to stay focused on a game when you are dealing with tragedy.  On the other hand, many athletes find the best way to deal with tragedy is to get back to the their team and make a contribution.  If he does that, who could blame him?  After all, everyone is different and deals with loss in their own way.  Whatever decision he makes should be met with support and well wishes.

Just writing this, I still can't fathom the hell he and his wife must be going through.  I had intended to work on a different blog today but when I read this story, I had to write about it and do what little I could to pass on prayers for Pat and Stefanee.  Before you go to bed to night, please remember this family in your prayers.  Hug your sons and daughters.  Tell them that you love them.  Show them how much they mean to you and don't ever take it for granted.    And if the baseball world has any justice, maybe Pat Neshek will be pitching in the late innings of the final game of the World Series, mowing down hitters, and helping the Oakland A's win a championship.  I know, winning a baseball game could never replace his son, but if winning on the field helps him and his wife heal from their loss off of it, then it wouldn't just be a game for them.  So, here's to you, Pat and Stafanee Neshek.  Surely brighter days are ahead.