AFK

Tyler Phillips.

This guy has been in my dreams a bunch lately. So I'll tell you the story about him. It's not how my dream goes, it's a little different. I guess dreams go like that. Anyway.

I was 15. I was trying out for a 16-18 year-old premier baseball team in parksville that summer. It was the most elite high school team around.

I guess I was one of the best 15 year old ball players in town, but it was a small town. Players on this team came from all over the island, and even from Powell Riv. There were a few other 15-year-old's trying out along with me. We were all turning 16 later that year, so we were eligible to play, if we made the team. Tyler was one of those guys. #36. He came from Courtnay three times a week to try out.

From the get go, I sucked really bad. I could no longer hit a ball, because they were coming at me 20 miles an hour faster. I could no longer catch a ball, because guys could hit them a mile over my head. The only thing I had was raw speed, and that would definitely not get me a spot on the team. I learned quickly to associate myself with good players, hang out with them, warm up with them, etc. I thought it would put me in better company. Because the older guys were typically snobby, I hung out with Tyler, because he was almost guaranteed a spot. He could pitch really well, and was impressing all the coaches. Yes, coaches. Normally a team has 1. This one had a manager, coach, hitting coach, pitching coach, and infield coach. Sick.

Anyway.

Tyler dies one day at practice.

I had survived the first few cuts, and I think we were down to 25 guys, keeping 18. We had played a few exhibition games, mostly against victoria and nanaimo. We were practicing pretty hectically. One day we were doing our standard at practice: I was hitting wiffle balls with the rest of the non pitchers, and the pitchers were all throwing in the pen.

All of a sudden, Tyler collapses. I didn't really seem him go down, but I was close enough. My dad was around, like he always was at the ballpark. He didn't coach that team, but he knew the coaches well, and helped out a little. He was the only guy that had first aid, so he got into the middle of things.

At first, we assumed it was heat stroke. There was really few things that could have happened. He didn't faint, because he didn't regain consciousness right away. Hmm. We were all standing around sort of waiting for him to awaken. Someone ran to call an ambulance I guess, because no one had cell phones in their pocket in 2000. Everyone still had their cells off in their car.

I guess someone realized that Tyler wasn't breathing, and my dad started doing CPR. I was probably in a trance, because I remember watching a lot happen, I don't remember doing a lot. As the ambulance showed up and took him to the hospital, we had long ruled out heat stroke, and were thinking heart attack or something.

He never regained consciousness. Later the team was told that Tyler had an aneurysm.

So neither of us made the team that year.

I didn't try out again for that team. A team from courtnay, in a lower division but nonetheless elite, approached me to play. I declined in a hurry. My dad took an entire month to convince me, and eventually I would make the trip to courtnay three times a week to practice and play. Well, I should just say practice. The balls were 10mph slower than in parksville, but still 10mph faster than what I could hit. So I didn't hit, and I definitely didn't play.

If you go by that park today, there hangs a #36 on the center field wall.

'And I dreamed I was dying'