Tag: RIP

Tommy Hanson: Gone too damn soon

Tommy Hanson was 29 years old. Six years ago, he was one of the game’s brightest young pitching talents. He made his pitching debut with the Atlanta Braves on June 7th, 2009. He won 13 games that season, compiling a 2.89 and finishing 3rd in NL Rookie of The Year. He won 45 games during his first four seasons before shoulder injuries struck him down. He hadn’t appeared in a Major League game since 2013. He was pitching for the San Francisco Giants in the minors this past season. Late Monday night, NBC Sports confirmed  via an MLB source that Hanson had passed away after catastrophic organ failure.

On Sunday, Hanson went into the hospital after experiencing trouble breathing. Earlier Monday evening, Hanson fell into a coma. A variety of tests were run but to no avail. There were no prior events that could have prepared his family or his friends for this kind of situation. According to all sources available, Hanson didn’t have any previous serious issues other than getting his shoulder 100 percent and getting back to the Majors. This is worse than tragic. This is unfair.

Any time an innocent 29 year old dies, it’s a sad story. Everybody should reach 30. Everyone should get that chance. Hanson didn’t do drugs. He didn’t drive drunk or hurt anyone. He was a baseball player. He was a guy who didn’t give up when the league told him he couldn’t make a comeback. The Braves traded him to LA for current Cardinals pitcher Jordan Walden. Hanson spent an injury plague 2013 season with the Los Angeles Angels before pitching minor league ball for the Texas Rangers, Chicago White Sox, and the Giants the past two seasons.

In 2014, debuting with the Charlotte Knights, Hanson talked about having two weeks in between jobs after the Rangers released him where he was throwing baseballs against a fence and with his wife rolling the ball back to him. All he could think about was getting back to the big show.

That’s life. It can be so simple minded and goal driven at one moment and then it can be gone. For Tommy Hanson, it all started at Redlands East Valley High School in California. After moving there from Tulsa, Oklahoma, Hanson started his career. He was drafted in the 22nd round in 2005. He would be the #2 prospect in the Baseball Prospectus. After it all fell apart, Hanson never stopped pitching.

If we can learn anything from Hanson’s passing, it is make every moment count. There’s a clock on your life and we never know when it’s going out. You can be healthy as ever at one moment and then gone. It’s a privilege and not a right. It’s also not fair. It doesn’t matter if you know him or not. It doesn’t matter what his views were. It doesn’t matter. He’s gone and it’s sad.

Rest in peace, Tommy Hanson. Gone too soon.

One Year Later: Oscar Taveras’ death can still be a lesson

Taveras_1280_4v5j1r9j_ory7b0beYou can have sympathy for the weak, the strong, but not for the devil. What about the devil inside us all?

A year ago, young Cardinals outfielder Oscar Taveras drank five times the legal limit that the Dominican Republic allows drivers, got into his sports car with his girlfriend and went for a drive on wet rainy roads. It’s a bad decision to drive during a thunderstorm or during a serious downpour. It’s even worse if the driver is impaired, under the influence or swimming in the influence.

It’s almost like the tale is already concluded wen the engine gets turned on. Taveras crashed his car. In the process, Taveras died and so did Edilia Arvelo, who was just 18 years old. Forget baseball here. Put it away. Put the idea of what a supremely talented Taveras could have done with another 5-10 years. It’s not important. As much as fans try, sports can never touch life and death yet only exist as a comfortable metaphor and detour. (more…)

Yogi Berra: Truly one of a kind

On May 12th, in 1925, Yogi Berra was born in St. Louis, Missouri. Launched down into the world flat in the roaring 20’s and full of life, Berra made the most out of it. He played 19 years in the Major Leagues. He served his country in the Navy(something that may have kept him from being a Cardinal). He created the most unforgettable one liners that baseball figures would never forget. He did all of this with a smile and didn’t stop until he decided the world had enough. On Tuesday, at the tender old age of 90 years, Berra passed away.

One of the worst things in life is a waste of talent. We see all over the place. Berra did the opposite. He picked up his talent, his name and used it well. He was signed by the New York Yankees in 1943 and made his debut at the age of 21 a year later. Berra hit a home run and collected two hits on that fall day near the end of the season. It was the start of a career that few would forget but many in this modern world don’t know enough about. Berra played 19 seasons, 18 of them and all but 4 games in a Yankees uniform. Not bad for a guy who proclaimed baseball to be 90 percent mental and the other half physical.

Berra played in 18 All Star games and won 3 MVP awards. He averaged 27 home runs, 26 stolen bases and an .830 OPS over his career, according to Baseball Reference. Berra won 10 World Series titles with the Yankees, but people remember him more for saying “it ain’t over til it’s over” or “when you come to a fork in the road, take it.” To many, he is the character instead of the great baseball player, but he was the latter in full.

He never shrunk from the massive spotlight that New York can shine on players and watch them melt. Berra was the Big Apple’s match for nearly two decades and in his last season with the Yankees, hit .293 and slugged .493 at the age of 38. He didn’t play too long. When it was time he stepped down but he did so with these unique labels at the end of his run.

Nobody has won more World Series titles than Berra. No catcher has won more MVP awards. He played with Joe DiMaggio and Mickey Mantle, never got their spotlight but made his mark. No catcher made more All Star Games than Berra’s 18. If you include his time as a player, coach and manager, he appeared in 21 different World Series matchups.

Most teenagers know him as the cool guy in the barber shop in the Aflac commercial. You know, where the duck walks into the shop and talks about the insurance and Berra goes, “If you get hurt and miss work, it won’t hurt to miss work.”

He also loved life, his family and baseball. He once said that love is the greatest thing in life, but baseball is pretty good too. Unlike many of his famous quotes, which he claimed to never ever say, that quote and baseball and life rung more true than any of them.

Part of being a true baseball fan is remembering its heroes, both large and small. Unlike most of today’s giants of the game, Berra was 5 foot 7 inches tall and weighed 185 pounds. He didn’t need to stand taller than most when his game already did. He threw out baserunners, hit more bad balls than anybody and only struck out 414 times in 7,555 at bats.

Yogi Berra lived a full life, on and off the field. Every kid, teenager and adult living today should know who Yogi is because of his unique name and sense of humor, but please know that he was one of the best to ever play his position and he did it in the biggest city.

Everybody in life wishes to be special or unique. Rest in peace, Yogi. You were truly one of a kind.

A year later, I miss Robin Williams…a lot

I miss Robin Williams, a lot, and I’ll tell you why.

There aren’t many actors who could transition seamlessly between comedy and drama. I am talking about inside the same movie, not separate projects. Inside one scene, Williams could go from smiling funny man to hyper serious monologue delivery guy and it was impressive. He cared about the films he did and the people he worked with. He was a 63 year old kid right down to the very end, which came a year ago in his home in California. After battling drug addiction, depression and a new foe in Parkinson’s Disease, Williams took his own life. He did this mere weeks after completing work on an indie drama called Boulevard, with director Dito Montiel. His loss stings a year later.

A month ago, Williams’ often forgotten political satire film, Man of the Year, came on during the morning. What was meant to be a 5 minute glance turned into a 90 minute sitdown with a film I came to admire through multiple viewings. It was about a comedian accidentally being voted President of the United States and the fallout from it. It had Lewis Black, Christopher Walken, Jeff Goldblum and Laura Linney. It wasn’t supposed to work. Williams made it work, with his signature blend of sarcastic comedy and sharp wit.

The best actors aren’t the ones who can mix into an All Star cast and shine. The best ones are the performers who can take an ordinary looking piece of crap and turn it into gold. Williams did with Man of the Year, which was directed by Barry Levinson. There weren’t many actors who could have played this role so well. I felt the same way about another critically maligned film, Patch Adams. It wasn’t supposed to work but Williams made it watchable. He was magnetic, an actor who had a desire to connect with his audience through any means necessary.

In the end, Williams will often be remembered for his work in three films and for good reason. 

1.) Good Morning, Vietnam

2.) Dead Poets Society

3.) Good Will Hunting

Sure, Mrs. Doubtfire can sneak in there but those three are the cornerstones of his long reaching career. He also dueled with Al Pacino in Christopher Nolan’s Alaska thriller, Insomnia. He played Teddy Roosevelt in the Night at the Museum films. He was The Fisher King. The voice of a genie in Aladdin. The doctor in Hugh Grant’s Nine Months. The outrageously funny host in The Birdcage.

When it came to Williams, diversity in the roles he took wasn’t just a factor in his career, it was a necessity. He aimed to try different things and thrill you in different ways. For the moviegoers who hate actors playing the same role over and over, Williams was the opposite. He challenged himself all the way down to the very end. The whole family could enjoy his work.

It’s just so sad that in the end, the actor felt a huge gushing pain in his own life so badly that he chose to end it. Close the curtain early. Stop the show. I wanted more and so did others. I didn’t lie awake at night waiting for another Williams gem, but I was confident in the way the actor could surprise me.

I’ll never forget his character sitting on that park bench, which has now become a memorial for fans, in Good Will Hunting. Looking at Matt Damon’s character Will and slowly healing the kid. I’ll never forget his character, Sean, telling Hunting about his late wife and how he ditched a World Series Boston Red Sox game to go “see about a girl”. That movie will play well for decades and Williams’ performance will always be the anchor in its genius.

Do yourself a favor tonight and watch a Williams film. Skip the sequel, reboot, remake, and latest horror adventure at the cinema and stay home. It doesn’t have to be a classic film from the Williams anthology. Jumanji(which ironically enough is getting a sequel soon) is a great family film. For a couple needing a quiet night of escapism, take a shot with Cadillac Man or Awakenings, both signature Williams gems. As is the case with anybody after they pass, instead of mourning them, celebrate their life and their work.

The best and most endearing thing about the movies is they never die and are accessible right next to you on your smart phone or neighborhood resting DVD player. Decades later, they are right there waiting to be watched.

While it is brutally sad Williams chose to exit stage left too early, his greatest hits will be with us forever. Take a couple hours tonight and spend it with Robin Williams. I guarantee he’ll make you laugh and cry all at once.

Missing my friend Troy Siade

I don’t get sentimental here often. I try to post 50 regular articles for every semi sentimental or personal piece. However, today I am going to talk about my late friend Troy Siade.

Manual Scoreboard
Manual Scoreboard- Manual scoreboard operators Troy Siade, left, and Danny Buffa take in the Cardinals-Giants game from their favorite spot behind the manual scoreboard at Busch Stadium Wednesday night.

Troy Siade would have been 50 years old today. He was an Italian prince in a white t-shirt and short blue jean shorts that made the manual scoreboard a place to be. You could have been as cold as the North Pole, and Troy would make you laugh. He had a way of cutting though the bullshit in life and made you happy to be around him. He would bust my chops because I was like a younger brother to him. I took it in spades and with a fair measure of pride. There were days where an hour would go by on the board and we would just give each other shit or bust each other’s balls while mixing in serious things to talk about. With Troy, it all came free and easy. 

I’ll never forget him driving our supervisor Joe Graman crazy by hitting on his pretty daughter when she came to visit the board. Joe was a military veteran so Troy would go all the way down to the National League or a decent distance from Joe and say something like, “Man, I just want to settle down, marry a girl, whose dad has a boat.” Yes, Joe had a boat. Troy would cut the tension in the room like a knife would slice through a warm slab of butter. He was fearless, hilarious and treated his friends like family.

I’ll never forget him getting sensual with a picture of Art Holliday in a suite at Busch after a game. He gave cocky flamboyance a brand new name every night downtown. Troy would walk down the ramp at Busch and say out loud, “Hey ladies, I drive a JAGUAARRRRR!” and “Man it sucks being RICH!” All a friend could do was laugh. You had to dig the guy. He was a one of a kind.

I looked up to him like the older brother I was deprived of during those days. Every year since he has been gone I feel this pain some nights when the Cards win big or a Jim Edmonds highlight is shown. Every August 14th I get my ass kicked emotionally and I hide it well because no one needs to see a bearded bald dude cry. I just miss him and wish he was still here.

The saddest thing in life is regret. A little while before he passed, Troy surprised my wife Rachel and I for a dinner. It was out of the blue and caught me off guard. We had previous plans with my parents and you don’t break those off. So we turned him down. I wish I would have brought him along. My dad and the two of us may have been asked to leave the restaurant because of how loud we would have gotten, but it would have been worth the trouble. Troy talked a lot, just like me. Nobody could shut him up. They couldn’t contain him. Only hope to try. That’s why I loved him. There are certain people you meet in life that you can be your 100 percent self around. Troy was one of them.

As humans we always think we have more time. That there will be another time. It’s a flaw. With Troy, there wasn’t. He got sick soon afterwards with Non Hodgkins Lymphoma and was gone soon afterwards. He would die before his 39th birthday on April 23rd, 2004. That shiny black hair gone and that unbreakable spirit somewhat tinted.

I just wish I had more time. I just wish I had more time with my friend. My brother from another mother. Someone who never made me feel the need to change or watch what I say.

Just another reminder that Cancer really fucking sucks.

Rest in peace my good friend. Troy would have loved to watch this moment from his favorite player, Jim Edmonds.

The Loss of Joe Williams will rock the St. Louis film scene

55b62d7053590.preview-620The last time I spoke with St. Louis Post Dispatch film critic Joe Williams, it was after a movie last winter and in a circle of film critics. That’s the way it worked for movie scribes. A movie would be screened and the critics would inform the local marketing company, Allied, rep what they thought afterwards. A quick take. Joe and I didn’t agree that much, but I respected his work and his blunt assessment of film.

Sunday evening, in route to a movie in Cadet, Missouri, Williams was killed in a car crash. The St. Louis film scene will never be the same. Williams’ loss will reverberate throughout the country.

The hardest part of a writer’s death is never hearing their voice again. Changing websites or papers is one thing. Post Dispatch sports writer Bernie Miklasz will leave the paper in August but he can be found at 101 ESPN afterwards. Williams’ voice is gone forever. That is truly the toughest part of this ordeal. For a town with one paper, Williams was the voice for film fans in the Lou. Every week, they’d rush to the stands or refresh their STLToday apps and see what he thought of the latest flicks. That will not be possible after this weekend.  (more…)

Carlos Martinez: Pitching with Oscar on his mind

El GalloNothing makes you feel more human than when you lose someone in life who is close to you. It’s not fair. It’s too soon. And it really hurts. For St. Louis Cardinals’ pitcher Carlos Martinez, losing his best friend and teammate Oscar Taveras may never wear off. Everywhere Martinez goes and whatever success follows him, the legacy of his friend will follow along.

Every time Martinez climbs the mound, he draws an #18 into the mound. Whenever something great happens, such as Friday’s announcement that he was an All Star, the 23 year old mentions “representing” Oscar at the festivities. 2015 may be an extended tribute show dedicated to his fallen friend, but something tells me Carlos will be pitching with Oscar in mind for a long time. Maybe his whole career. That’s the way it goes with legacies. They never drift. They stick with you.

Also, I need to address the moral police. The people who see fit to slam Carlos or anyone who mentions Taveras in good graces. Unless you have NEVER driven under the influence or know anyone who has, please stand down on breaking out your little moral badge here. Carlos lost a friend dear to him. Nothing changes that, circumstances or not. Oscar made a mistake many of us made at 21 years of age. Why dog his best friend for that honoring him after his death? I don’t walk around with my shiny fake moral badge on slapping people for remembering an exuberant young man who made a tragic fatal mistake. Let it be. (more…)

B.B. King 1925-2015: The Thrill is Gone Away

The thrill is gone
It’s gone away from me
The thrill is gone baby
The thrill is gone away from me
Although, I’ll still live on
But so lonely I’ll be

bb-king-4f29a930893b7B.B. King died on May 14th in Las Vegas, but he will live on. The lonely crowd will be us, his fans who wrapped our ears around his world whenever we felt the force of life beating us down to our knees. King redefined the blues and departs this world as the king. Buddy Guy and Muddy Waters may hold a few of the keys to the castle, but it’s King’s face on the front of the building.

Maybe it was the way he played the guitar, sitting in a chair, at the center of the stage, well into his 80’s. He played it so well and so honestly that one would think he was born with a guitar strumming around the crib. Maybe it was the way he sung the blues and made us feel the impact in our souls that he seem to be feeling deep in his bones as he belted out the tunes.

I remember seeing King play live in the late 1990’s at the Fox Theater with my friend Josh Brown. He got two tickets to a Blues festival, and all the greats came out to play so we went. Guy, Susan Tedeschi and B.B. King. The ones that took the stage before him were honorable and dynamic, but what they did paled in comparison to the show King put on. He only played for 45 minutes, but he sunk his soul into those songs. King was a musician who truly connected with his audience. He didn’t need a seven piece orchestra, a skin tight outfit, a trio of singers to help him out either. King could blow you away all by himself. He was old school. A relic from the past that wouldn’t die. One that kept getting stronger. (more…)

Philip Seymour Hoffman 1967-2014

**I wrote this for http://www.film-addict.com on Sunday night after he passed, and I thought it was worth sharing here.**

Philip Seymour Hoffman has died at the age of 46.   He was found dead in his Greenwich Village apartment of an apparent drug overdose.   Dan Buffa takes a brief look atimageedit_1_9290175754 his acting career.

Since we get so caught up in their ability to create, perform and dazzle us with their ability, moviegoers forget that the men and women who have the ability to transform are not invincible.   Sports fans fall under the same spell, forgetting the larger than life athletes can fall prey to the same addictions and hazards that befall many people every year.  Philip Seymour Hoffman had a serious drug and alcohol addiction over 23 years ago in college, and was able to kick the habit before he entered the world of film.  Today, he fell prey to the deadly habit of heroin use and was found dead, hypodermic needle in his arm and fully clothed, in his Manhattan apartment.  He was 46 years old.

Recent film fans remember him guiding young Katniss Everdeen in November’s Catching Fire.   He had finished filming the next installment, Mockingjay: Part 1, but was in the midst of filming Part 2.   Hoffman won an Oscar for Capote in 2005 and was nominated for Paul Thomas Anderson’s The Master last year.  More than the awards though, Hoffman was a chameleon.   He slipped into comedy roles early on in his career before becoming a tour de force dramatic actor.   In Sidney Lumet’s Before The Devil Knows You Are Dead, he was the older brother of Ethan Hawke who had to wrangle out of the most deadliest web of deceit and murder.  When I think of his acting prowness, I think of Hoffman’s conniving brother plotting an escape from hell and vocally slapping around Hawke’s inept brother.

Hoffman convinced you he was a gambler, a cheat, a murderer, a Tornado chaser, a bad basketball player, a musician and a famous writer.  That’s what the greatest actors do.  They convince you they can be completely different people and do it sometimes up to 3 times a year.    In The Master(admittedly a hard film to love), Hoffman played a man condemned by his own religious beliefs and seemed to hit a high that the rest of the film could never reach.   Hoffman could dominate a troubled film, elevate a bad movie and brighten up an already strong film.  He was part of an all star cast including Christopher Walken and Catherine Keener in 2012’s A Late Quartet and gave a heartbreaking performance as a musician stuck in a career trap.  It was another great performance and something we came to expect from the actor.

Look at his small yet pivotal role in Almost Famous as Lester Bangs.   Playing the old rock journalist guiding our young William along his path to not being “uncool”.   Speaking the majority of his part over the phone with Patrick Fugit, Hoffman conveyed a soulful yet preachy older poet, making a last minute attempt to tutor a young mad soul about the depths of which music will drag you down.

(more…)