A Tribute to Darryl Kile

It’s strange how you remember certain events in your life.  I don’t mean the obvious ones (wedding, birth of a child, major world event, etc.).  I mean smaller, random moments that have an unexpected affect on you.  Darryl Kile’s untimely death 10 years ago today was one of those times for me.
 

I remember exactly where I was when I heard about Darryl Kile’s death.  It was a Saturday afternoon, and my wife and I were at a car dealership looking at an SUV.  We had found out the previous Mother’s Day that she was expecting our 2^nd child, so we were going to need a bigger vehicle.  As is normal for me, I was wearing a St. Louis Cardinals cap.  After a few minutes of looking around and speaking with a salesman, he noticed my cap and said: “Hey, sorry to hear about your team’s pitcher.”

I had not heard anything about Kile yet.  Cardinal fans were still coping with the death of legendary announcer Jack Buck just four days earlier – ironically, a game Kile started. I looked at the sales guy blankly and said “What are you talking about?”

“It was on the radio,” he said. “I think it was that guy who used to pitch for the Rockies….” he trailed off, trying to recall the pitcher’s name.

 “Darryl Kile?” I asked, feeling a knot in my stomach.

 “Yeah, that’s the guy.”

 I no longer felt like car shopping.  We left the dealership and I immediately tuned the car radio to a sports-talk station, which confirmed that 33-year-old Darryl Kile had been found dead in his hotel room that morning. He left behind a wife, 5-year-old twins and a 10-month-old son, as well as friends all across the game of baseball.

“So sad,” said my wife.  The rest of our drive home was silent.

*      *      *      *

I remember seeing Darryl Kile pitch for the Astros back in 1991 and being convinced he was a stud in the making.  In his first start in the majors, he pitched six no-hit innings before being pulled from the game. Good fastball, ridiculous 12-to-6 curve, bulldog mentality on the mound (same thoughts I had a few years about about Adam Wainwright). In 1993, he made the All-Star team and permanently etched his name in the record books with a no-hitter against the Mets in September.  He was on the way to being an ace.  His last year in Houston, he went 19-7 with a 2.57 ERA, 1.18 WHIP, 205 strikeouts in 255 innings pitched.

Then he left Houston to sign with the Colorado Rockies.

He said he enjoyed pitching in adverse conditions and wasn’t intimidated by Coors Field.  There was no humidor at Coors Canaveral in those days. Kile’s devastating curveball didn’t curve at altitude.  The fastball didn’t move the same way it did at sea level.  The result in 1998 was a stunning reversal from the previous season: Kile led the NL with 17 losses, his ERA ballooned to 5.20, and he allowed an average of 10 hits per nine innings. The next season was worse. It was painful to watch.

Through all that, though, Kile never complained.  He made 67 starts in his two years with the Rockies, pitching 421 innings. As the beatings continued and the losses piled up, Kile made no excuses.  He didn’t blame the thin air, the huge outfield, the punchless road hitting, none of it.  He put the blame on himself for not doing his job well enough.  I admired his poise.  The results were ghastly, but Darryl Kile was a stand-up guy his two years with the Rockies. Unlike Mike Hampton and Denny Neagle a few years later, he never quit on his team. 

By the time the Rockies traded him to St. Louis after the 1999 season, I felt relief for him, as well as excitement as a Cardinals fan.  He was going to the right team to resurrect his career.

And did he ever.

His first season in St. Louis, Kile won 20 games, made the All-Star team and finished fifth in Cy Young voting.  That deadly curve started dropping off the table again.  His strikeout-to-walk ratio was the best of his career.  He and close friend Matt Morris were one of the best 1-2 punches in either league.  They reached the NLCS before losing to the Mets.  In 2001, they were just as good. Kile pitched the last part of that season with an injured shoulder that required surgery after they were ousted in the NLDS by the eventual World Champion Arizona Diamondbacks.  He was ready to go by the following spring training.

Kile often was seen working with Morris and prized young lefty Rick Ankiel.  He got along with catcher Mike Matheny so well he once told Tony LaRussa “if Matheny isn’t catching, I’m not pitching.”  LaRussa didn’t quibble.

On June 18, 2002, Kile pitched the Cardinals into first place in the NL Central with 7 2/3 brilliant innings against the Anaheim Angels.  Four days later, they were at Wrigley Field to face the hated Small Bears.  With Kile’s competitive nature, he surely must have been looking forward to that type of rivalry game. But when he was absent during pregame warm-ups, teammates grew worried.  Matheny requested that someone check Kile’s hotel room.

 

Joe Girardi’s choked-up announcement that there had been “a tragedy in the Cardinals family” chills me even now.

*      *      *      *

People rarely speak ill of the deceased, but I remember being amazed at the number of stories about Darryl Kile – not only the player and teammate, but the husband, father, and friend.  Todd Jones wrote a touching letter to Kile’s children in The Sporting News.  He was so well regarded that his former teams, the Rockies and Astros, both chartered airplanes so his former teammates could pay their respects.  All three teams placed memorials in their ballparks as a tribute to the man.  The Rockies’ tribute was particularly impressive, considering how horribly his stint with the team had gone.  It spoke volumes to me about how well-liked and respected he really was.

Kile’s jersey hung in the dugout for each game the rest of the season, but the Cardinals avoided any public “Win it for Darryl” proclamations.  The situation could have turned into a made-for-Disney rallying cry; instead, the Cardinals narrowed their focus to the baseball field.  They added Scott Rolen to the lineup and dominated the NL Central, winning it by 13 games.  The night they clinched the division, Albert Pujols carried Kile’s jersey out to the field where the team celebrated. St. Louis finished with a 97-65 record. I don’t recall who noted it first, but the Cardinals had won 57 games after that awful June day.  Darryl Kile’s uniform number was 57.

They celebrated again after knocking the Diamondbacks out of the playoffs.  However, there would be no Disney-like finish to the season.  After blowing the 1-0 lead to the San Francisco Giants in Game 5 of the NLCS, the stunned looks on the Cardinals’ faces said it all.  It wasn’t supposed to end with a crushing, two-out rally in the bottom of the 9^th.  Yet, it did.  Just like that, the season was over. LaRussa called it the biggest disappointment of his career.  The Cardinals were left to face the chill rains of the fall without their friend and teammate.

*      *      *      *

Ten years later, Darryl Kile’s death still saddens me. It’s not just that he played for my two favorite teams (Cards and Rockies); no, it’s more that he was one year older than me and had kids about the same age. Just thinking about not being able to play catch with my daughters, take them on a roller coaster, or just hug them makes my heart ache.  A good man was taken from his family too soon. 

 

That’s not to say the whole story is sad.  Besides the 57 regular-season wins, there are some other interesting facts and figures from that season, some of which dovetail into 2012.

§  The team that Kile beat in his last start is the team that beat the Giants in the World Series.

§  Albert Pujols now plays for those Angels.

§  Number 57 hasn’t been retired, but no player has worn it since 2002

§  The Cardinals and Astros both established the Darryl Kile Good Guy award, for players who best exemplify Kile's traits of "a good teammate, a great friend, a fine father and a humble man."

§  The first recipient of that award was Mike Matheny

§  Mike Matheny is now the Cardinals’ manager

Although it’s comforting to that believe the 57 wins were a sign from above, I tend to believe it was just a coincidence.  But it was (and still is) a really cool coincidence.

The daughter whom I watched sleep that June day is now 11.  Earlier this year, we were at a Rockies game when she asked me about the DK57 sign in the Rockies bullpen.  After I explained, she asked me if Darryl Kile was one of my favorite players.

 

“Yes, honey,” I said. “Yes, he was.”

What would instant replay serve? You really have to ask?

Johan Santana’s no-hitter against the Cardinals last weekend has generated all sorts of discourse about instant replay, incompetent umpires and asterisks. I got into one myself with former big-leaguer @DougGlanville, Chicago sports blogger ChiTown (@ChiTownSports), and an ESPN guy named T.J. Quinn (@tjquinnespn).  Glanville had written about the “imperfections” in baseball (http://ideas.time.com/2012/06/05/baseball-is-never-perfect/), and how they’re a part of baseball lore (which is 100% true).  What really caught my eye, though, was Glanville’s opposition to instant replay.  A former player against something that would hold the umpires accountable and help keep teams from getting hosed on a call?  I was surprised enough to add my two cents.

ME: “I wonder if Armando Galarraga feels the same way.” 

Galarraga, of course, was famously robbed of a perfect game by umpire Jim Joyce a few years ago. More on that below. Turns out, I wasn’t the only one who disagreed with Glanville’s take. 

ChiTown‏: Fans pay see the 'human element' in players, not umpires.

Doug Glanville‏:  Good comment. But I think people gained a different take after Jim Joyce.

ChiTown:  I appreciated Jim Joyce but I bet he would have appreciated replay.

T.J. Quinn:  probably, but the way joyce and galarraga handled it transcended sport.

So there the hyperbole starts – the blown call “transcended sport.” Yes, both men were classy and acted like gentlemen. Maybe it seemed so unusual because of the Bob Davidsons and AJ Pierzynskis of the sport. But, really, all they did was handle an awkward and embarrassing situation like a couple of mature adults. Isn’t that expected of us on a daily basis?

Turns out, Glanville wasn’t going there, anyway. His point was that he didn’t want robot umpires taking over everything.  Well, we’re in complete agreement on that one.  @ChiTown didn’t want robot umpires either. Our point was for bad umpires to be held accountable for their many high-profile mistakes, and for baseball to use available technology to eliminate as many of those mistakes as possible. Quinn, however, went in a, um, different direction:

T.J. Quinn‏:  I don't know what ultimately would be served by technical precision. But I know those men gave my kids something permanent.

Oh, boy. Here we go.

Is that not the most ESPN-type answer? Seriously? Did Gregggg Easterbrook write this? PLEASE, WON’T SOMEONE THINK OF THE CHILDREN?!?  What would be served?  Are you kidding me?

/Pauses, counts to 10

/Takes deep breath

Okay, here’s what would be served: the game of baseball. That’s all. The “technical precision” would ensure that critical plays are called correctly? That one team isn’t getting screwed out of the playoffs by one umpire’s horrible call? That baseball shows a willingness to step into the 21^st century?  Nah, never mind that stuff; let’s focus on family values. Hey, if TJ Quinn wants to use Galarraga/Joyce as a teaching point for his children, bully for him. But you don’t know what would be served by technical precision? That’s just ignorant. We could get that kind of drivel from Mike Lupica.

It reminds me of the media folks who got carried away and proclaimed that people will remember the Galarraga/Joyce game in the same vein as a no-hitter or perfect game. Of course, this reasoning is ludicrous.  Near no-hitters and almost-perfect games don’t end up in the record books or Cooperstown.  Just ask Harvey Haddix.

Look at it this way: no matter what else Philip Humber does in his baseball career, he will always be on the list of pitchers who threw a no-hitter.  Armando Galarraga will not have his name on the list of perfect games.  I wonder, deep down, would he rather have his name etched in baseball history, or be remembered as a guy who got hosed out of a perfect game by an umpire’s mistake? Instant replay would have made that question moot.  It also would have ended Santana’s no-hitter against the Cardinals.

Aside: I found the St. Louis Post-Dispatch’s asterisk attached to Santana’s no-no hilarious. Watching the NY media get all lathered up about it was equally amusing, as if they wouldn’t have done something similar had the roles been reversed. Just face it, NY: you got out-snarked this time. Deal with it.

Ken Rosenthal wrote earlier this week about baseball’s interest in the Hawk-Eye system, which is best known in tennis, where it makes a loud beeping noise when a player’s serve misses the serve box. Is this a practical answer? I’m not sure. At least it shows that MLB is considering doing something. 

Meanwhile, we’re stuck with horrible umpires like Bob Davidson, Joe West, Angel Hernandez, Laz Diaz, and Adrian Johnson. The Mets and their fans get to celebrate Santana’s no-hitter, which is great for them. The Cardinals sit and wonder “what if?”; that is something that too many players and teams keep having to ask.

Five ways to revive the Rockies

Here we are, just past Memorial Day, and 2012 already looks like a lost season for the Colorado Rockies.  We’ve seen this too many times before.  The Rockies show no sign of being able to pull themselves out of this most recent May freefall.  Here are five things that need to happen sooner rather than later:

 

1)      Fire Dan O’Dowd.  NOW.  Under his watch, the Rockies have two playoff appearances (no division titles) in 13 years.  The team caught lightning in a bottle for a month in 2007, and the team has teased its fans with “potential” ever since.  When they made the playoffs in 2009, many fans (including me) thought they had finally turned the corner.  We were wrong.  Years of botched first-round draft picks have left the team in a dead zone where -- except for Nolan Arenado -- the best prospects are years away from the majors.  O’Dowd tried to plug the team’s many holes with 30-something veteran players.  Other than Michael Cuddyer (for whom O’Dowd vastly overpaid), they have all fallen flat.  Casey Blake never made it out of spring training.  Ramon Hernandez and Marco Scutaro have barely qualified as warm bodies thus far.  And Jamie Moyer….well, I’ll get to him in a minute.  O’Dowd is once again preaching patience while the team’s youngsters develop.  Sorry, Dan.  Time’s up.  No other franchise in baseball (even the Pirates and Royals) has shown such patience with a GM with such meager results.  It’s time for a change.

2)      Don’t fire Jim Tracy – yet.  This doesn’t mean I’m a Tracy fan – far from it, actually.  His inability to construct a productive batting order is stupefying.  He also has a LaRussa-like tendency to over manage.  Remember the game a couple weeks ago where the Rockies loaded the bases with nobody out in the bottom of the 9^th and he had to send Alex White – a pitcher – to pinch-hit because he ran out of position players?  Embarrassing.  That said, I can’t think of any manager who could make chicken salad out of the chicken dung O’Dowd put together this year. 

3)      Release Jamie Moyer.  It’s been a nice human interest story, having him become the oldest player to win a major-league game and all that.  Baseball writers like Jon Heyman fell all over themselves telling us what a great story it was, while ignoring the medical miracle that is Juan Nicasio.  By all accounts, Moyer is a wonderful guy who uses his fame and wealth to help others.  But it’s a disservice to the team to keep him in the rotation at the expense of younger arms like Drew Pomeranz or Alex White.  Jorge DeLaRosa is on his way back too.

4)      Trade Jeremy Guthrie and Rafael Betancourt.  Guthrie has been an abject disaster.  The team would have been better off keeping Jason Hammel and Matt Lindstrom.  At least trading Ubaldo Jimenez, Ian Stewart, Chris Iannetta and Seth Smith brought some potential talent to the team.  Guthrie was supposed to be a reliable innings-eater who would keep his team in games and keep the bullpen fresh to back up the younger starters.  He’s done neither.   This would definitely be a case of selling low, but keeping him in the rotation at the expense of a younger pitcher is a mistake.  A team in need of a starter (hello, Phillies?) might part with a prospect for Guthrie.  If this is going to be a crummy year, put the youngsters in and let them sink or swim.  Meanwhile, Betancourt is a luxury.  His value could be maximized by moving him to a contending team in need of bullpen help at the trade deadline (Cardinals? Rays?).  Besides, he’s agonizing to watch on the mound.  Any pitcher who takes 90 seconds between pitches deserves to be shut in a dark room and forced to listen to Tim McCarver for four straight hours.  Throw the damn ball already!

5)      The time has finally come to bench Todd Helton.  Yes, he’s driven in 25 runs, but his OPS is .719 with a 22/18 K/BB ratio.  Among teammates with at least 90 plate appearances, only Scutaro and Hernandez are worse.  The saddest part is that he appears to be healthy.  Assuming that is the case, Helton no longer is an effective everyday player.  With the pitching staff in tatters, the Rockies need to get as many productive bats in the lineup as possible.  Move Cuddyer to first base and play Tyler Colvin in RF.  Or swap roles with Jason Giambi, who has an OPS of .840.  Helton has been the face of the franchise since 1998.  The man’s done enough.

Will any of these moves happen?  With the exception of Moyer’s release, probably not.  Rockies ownership would have to become bold, forward-thinking owners who care more about winning than they do PR clippings and gate receipts.  The Brothers Monfort have shown no such inclination.  As a result, the Rockies will continue to waste the career primes of Troy Tulowitzki and Carlos Gonzalez while fans count the days until Broncos training camp starts.