Nick Adenhart: A Fan's Perspective

Tragedy is a deafening thing.

It leaves you slack-jawed and numb, your mind unable to fully process the horrific news it's just received. That's how I felt when I turned on SportsCenter this morning.

By now, most of us have heard the news. Los Angeles Angels rookie pitcher Nick Adenhart, 22, died early Thursday morning when the car he was in was struck by a minivan that ran a red light. The driver is believed to have been drunk.

It's so cut-and-dry, so simple, a story we've heard a thousand times before.

But somehow, Adenhart's untimely death has struck a different chord among fans—not just of the Angels, but of baseball.

As a friend of mine told me earlier today, our teams become like family to us.

We didn't just lose a pitcher, we lost a son, a brother, and a friend.

I watched Adenhart's career develop right before my eyes. I followed his rapid progress through the minors, and cheered when he made his major league debut on May 1 of last year.

I couldn't have been more thrilled to see him stun a revamped Oakland A's lineup on Wednesday in the best outing of his life, or be more sickened to find out it would also be his last.

It is strange to feel such emotion for someone you've never met, who you've never even seen pitch live. But we weren't complete strangers, Adenhart and I. A connection, however faint, did exist.

We were both young men in our early 20s—I am 23—with all of the hope and potential in the world. Our lives lay out in front of us, full of possibility and surprises.

And today, both of our families, miles apart, shed a tear out of the same grief.

While discussing the accident with another friend today, he told me that all untimely deaths should be treated the same. Adenhart's situation is sad, but he is no different from the other victims in the crash.

In a way, that's true.

We should not overlook the loss of the two other passengers, who were students at Cal State Fullerton—my alma mater.

We also can't forget about the lone passenger in the car who survived and is now in intensive care.

My thoughts and sympathies are with their families. But my friend was wrong.

Adenhart's death is different. It's more than just a tragedy, it is a reminder that we all must keep things in perspective. In the harsh light of tragedy, our frivolous concerns quickly melt away, and we are left with a clear vision of what's important in life.

Suddenly, players of any ilk griping about contract extensions and how many zeroes there are at the end of their checks seem all the more shallow. Amid the constant bickering and selfishness that plague so many clubhouses, we tend to forget: It's just a game.

A dream for little boys in backyards and dirt fields, who swing broomsticks and crush home runs over the Green Monster or into the rock pile at Angel Stadium. Little boys who fire tennis balls over make-shift home plates and strike out Alex Rodriguez and Ryan Howard.

Adenhart was one of those little boys, cut down before his dream could be fully realized, and he will be sorely missed.

As one person wrote online, "We are all fans of Nick Adenhart tonight."