Darryl Kile: Remembering the Day

For Christmas, Stephanie gave me a desk calendar of my favorite comic strip, “Get Fuzzy” by Darby Conley. Each day, there is a comic strip from past publications. If you're not familiar with the strip, it is one of the funniest I’ve ever read. It’s about a 20/30-something single guy named, Rob Wilco, whose pet dog and cat are just as much his family as if he had children of his own. His pets are a Siamese cat with one tooth named Bucky Katt and a Lab/Sharpei mix named Satchel Pooch. Darby Conley is from the New England area and is a huge Red Sox fan. Actually, from what I can tell, he’s a huge baseball fan. Just look at the names: Bucky Katt….Bucky Dent; Satchel Pooch….Satchel Paige. The other day, the strip of the day on my calendar had Rob wearing a St. Louis Cardinals hat with the initials D.K. and the number 57, an obvious homage for the late starting pitcher, Darryl Kile. It gave me chills as I reminisced about the baseball star’s early death.

Last Wednesday, June 22, 2005, marked the third anniversary of pitcher Darryl Kile’s death, a moment that shocked the sports world. He was found dead in his hotel room in Chicago where the Cardinals were playing the Cubs that weekend. At the time, it was such a mystery as to what could have caused his death. We would later find out that his passing was due to coronary atherosclerosis, which is a narrowing of the arteries supplying the heart muscle. He was only 33. No one, including Darryl’s wife, had any idea there was a problem. I remember that day and the surrounding events so vividly. Throughout his career, Darryl Kile made a lot of close friends. The game between the Cubs and the Cards was canceled that day. Joe Giardi and the rest of the Cubs and Cardinals’ Manager, Tony LaRussa, came out to the field and made the announcement to the fans. If you’ve ever been to a game when the Cardinals are the visiting team, then you know they come out. It’s why I love to watch the Astros play the Cardinals. That day, as usual, there were a lot of Cardinal fans in the stands at Wrigley field. Their fans, along with the hosting Cub fans, were silent upon hearing the news. That night, in watching the sports recap of the day on ESPN, I watched a press conference with Larry Walker, a former teammate of Darryl’s when he played for the Rockies. I never have been a fan of Walker’s, but I did have to respect him for wearing his heart on his sleeve as he broke down remembering his fallen friend in the tear-filled interview.

What I will remember most about his passing was that night as the Astros hosted the American League’s Seattle Mariners. It was an inter-league game that my friend, Ray, and I were excited about and had planned to attend for some time as we wanted to see the phenom, Ichiro Suzuki, live and in action. We had seats a few rows behind right-field. Before the game started, the fans participated in a moment of silence for Darryl. Houston holds a special place in her heart for Darryl Kile as he spent seven of his twelve major league seasons in an Astros uniform with several stellar years, one of which included a no-hitter on September 8, 1993. For some of the fans, it was the first they had heard of the tragedy. So, the moment of silence was preceded by a collective gasp. Above, on the big screen, was a picture of Darryl in an Astros uniform atop the pitcher’s mound. Under this figure: “1968-2002.” In the Astros’ dugout, hung Kile’s old jersey.

Prior to the game, Jimy Williams, manager of the Astros at the time, gave Jeff Bagwell, Craig Biggio, and Brad Ausmus the night off as they were very close to Darryl. He informed them that he would only use them as a last resort. Sure enough, all three were needed in the twelve inning thriller. Jeff Bagwell fittingly hit the game winning run in the bottom of the twelfth with a single that drove Julio Lugo in. Now, normally when something like this happens, the game hero's teammates mob him in celebration. Not this time. This night, Jeff's teammates met him, gathered around him, and hugged him. Jeff Bagwell's shoulders slumped as if an unbearable load had finally worn him down while his teammates escorted him off of the field.

When the winning run came in, the crowd went nuts. It didn't take much. The crowd was already on its feet, and the air was already filled with excitement when we saw Bagwell on deck. We knew we were about to witness something special. There was an awkward fan in our section that kept making nonsensical cheers throughout the evening. He kept talking about Spiderman which was the hit blockbuster movie that summer. When Bagwell came up to bat, the fan kept yelling, "Do it for Darryl!" Now while that is a horrible cliché, it was a unanimous sentiment that did not require vocalizing. When Lugo crossed the plate, strangers in a city of millions celebrated together. Grown, guarded men were high-fiving each other and hugging, not caring what anybody would think. For all we knew, we could have just won a pennant, or witnessed a no-hitter. It was a special moment that will forever be burned into my memory. It's held in such high regard with such memories as the Mike Scott no-hitter against the Giants in 1986 or, more recently, beating the Braves to advance to the National League Championship Series in 2004.

A few days later, a memorial was held for Darryl Kile at Busch Stadium in St. Louis. It was a tough year for Cardinal fans as they lost their long-time announcer, Jack Buck, earlier that week. I watched a web cast of the memorial service that day at work, and wept for Darryl Kile, his friends, and his family which included a wife, five-year old twins, a boy and a girl, along with a boy who would turn one that August. The remainder of the year, the Cardinals hung his jersey with reverence in their dugout. The Cardinals made it to the National League Championship Series where they lost to the San Francisco Giants. To this day, a circular sign with the letters, "DK", is still raised between the Astros pennants. Every time I see it, it takes me back to that summer night when I realized what the game of baseball really means to me.


"Then leaf subsides to leaf. So Eden sank to grief, So dawn goes down to day. Nothing gold can stay." "Nothing Gold Can Stay" by Robert Frost