It has been two years. Time flies.
Although you frequent my thoughts, it’s on this day, every year, that I always wish I could askyou so much.
I can’t possibly fathom the idea of watching your child pitch six scoreless innings, arguably the greatest game he had ever pitched, only to have to bring the lifeless body of him home, bury him, and say goodbye.
My heart goes out to your family. A beautiful life, 22 years of dreaming, cut short. A mistake? What do you call Andrew Gallo’s actions? Careless? He’ll be 72 when he’s eligible for parole. You would be 71. Would you have looked back at your life, a life filled with baseball, rings, and a Cy Young award?
Can you even imagine the life that you could’ve had? Too often, I take for granted the fragility of life. Your life, Nick, like anyone else’s could’ve been, was taken away in a flash. Can you fathom if you had been at that intersection 30 seconds later? Maybe even 10 seconds later. But it was that moment. You had your whole life ahead of you, a life destined for greatness. Could you ever forgive him?
Were you the motivation that got the Angels to clinch the AL West? Or would it have beenanother moment in your potential life? Where would you be today? An Angel? A Yankee? Where would you be in the future? A pitching coach? Managing? A hall of famer?
Two years later your picture is still displayed in the outfield. Your teammates still think of you. I still think of you. I still think of everything you could’ve been, and everything you are not because of someone’s reckless disregard for your life.
Your life, Nick, will not go unremembered.