No, not pictures of him on the pitching mound, with a familiar look of grit and determination. Not pictures of the perfect game celebration, the postseason no hitter celebration, or images of champagne bottles popping in the clubhouse after the NLDS series win.
They weren’t pictures of him sitting in the dugout, or running pole to pole in sweltering summer heat, or more recently of him coaching young pitchers in Clearwater during Spring Training.
They were pictures of him and his sons. Pictures of him beaming with pride after one of his son’s baseball teams won another tournament, or went 30-0; pictures of him smiling ear to ear, decked out in travel team garb, taking a selfie with the entire team, and posting it on Twitter to share with the world.
This man was clearly a father first, and that’s what adds to the incredible sense of sadness brought on by his untimely death, at only age 40.
This isn’t about me, not even minutely. It’s not about his fans, his teammates, or anyone else outside of his family and close friends. It’s hard to write this because I feel odd for wanting to speak about it, when I am well aware it isn’t really my place to.
I write to remember. I write to revere.
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I was at my desk wrapping up the workday on Tuesday, November 7, when I saw a headline. I cannot even remember where I saw it, to be honest. It read something like, “Plane Registered to Roy Halladay Crashes in the Gulf of Mexico.” I think at this point it mentioned there was one person killed, but they did not identify this person. I immediately went to Twitter, and saw Roy’s name was trending. I did the usual searching around, and there were many rumors. It was Roy’s father’s plane instead, or it was someone else flying the plane. It was hard because even if it wasn’t Roy flying, someone lost their life. To “root” for someone to not be in a plane, knowing someone else would have died felt really wrong.
Once the horrible news was revealed, like so many others, I was numb with shock. Roy Halladay always seemed invincible to me. The silent commentary this tragedy made regarding the fragility of life was striking, and I was in a daze of sorts the rest of the night.
Before I continue, let’s address the elephant in some rooms. Yes, I have seen the video of Roy’s plane flying low to the water. That plane was designed to be able to do that. Was he showboating? Maybe.
Was he being careless? Maybe. Was there a mechanical failure? Maybe. The point is, none of us knows what or why this happened, we can only speculate. Perhaps making less “daredevil” moves would have prevented this tragedy, but then again, maybe not.
Tuesday night, people who knew that I collected Roy’s cards and memorabilia texted me. I got some direct messages on Twitter and some comments on a picture I posted on Facebook. I read the tributes online from players, coaches, and sports writers. I read the stories remarking on Roy’s work ethic, drive, and determination. Many players looked up to him and made strides to get to his level. Few, if any, did. One thing that stuck out to me was a quote I saw, and I regret I am not sure who to attribute it to, but it was great. It went something like, “Roy Halladay was your favorite player’s favorite player.” (edit: This quote is attributed to Brandon McCarthy).
Admittedly, I didn’t follow Roy Halladay’s career while he was a Blue Jay. Being a Phillies fan, the Blue Jays bring about some pretty bad memories (I’m looking at you, Joe Carter). However, from the time I watched the press conference introducing him, I knew there was something about this guy that was different and special. He was humble, well spoken, and quiet. But his smile said he was genuinely happy to be a Phillie. I read up on his career, the ups and downs, and the successes. I read that in his second big league start he was one out away from throwing a no hitter, only to lose that and the shutout on one homerun swing. I read about his fall from grace; being sent down to single A ball after struggling so mightily. And I read about his epic comeback through hard work and determination that came to define the man himself.
I could go on forever about things like the postseason perfect game, the no-hitter, the shutouts, insane amount of complete games, Cy Young awards, his on and off field relationship with Carlos “Chooch” Ruiz (who he gave a replica copy of his Cy Young award to), the 60 engraved luxury watches he gave his teammates and coaching staff after his perfect game, etc., etc., etc. I think everything that has been written and talked about so far has proven what kind of a player and human being this man was.
I cannot remember when I decided to player collect Roy Halladay, and I am not really even sure he was my first "PC." Regardless, he became my focus, and he became the main focus of this blog, which I first posted in November of 2010. It's crazy to think how that was almost eight years ago. I kept up the blog in various forms of frequency for five years, and two years ago I stopped writing. It's not that I stopped collecting; I just stopped writing. My PC collecting did slow down considerably after Roy retired, mostly because there were no more "new" cards to collect. Over the years he didn't sign too much, and he generally was not included in any flagship sets as a base card. Still, every time a product came out that had something of his in it, I tried to get my hands on it. 2014 Immaculate is one way I got a few newer autographs. Other than that, it was a pick up here and a pick up there on eBay. I've retired a bunch of player collections I have, but that is a story for another post.
For those of you who have been to the blog before, it used to have a different name, in relation to a quote Roy made after the NLDS win. It was a reference to him saying, it was fun, but it's only gonna get funner. Hence, Funner Here, which is also my Twitter handle. As time has passed and that quote has faded into the sunset, I had long contemplated changing the name of the blog and the domain name. When I went to check available domains, I must admit I was shocked the one I now own was available--and not at a premium. www.dochalladay.com was born.
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It's been a few days since I started writing this blog post, and the initial shock of Roy's untimely passing has worn off. The sadness is still there, though, as I imagine it is for everyone else too. I don't want this post to get so long that it takes too long to read, so I think what I'll do is save other musings regarding Roy for subsequent posts.
Rest in peace, Roy Halladay, and thank you for being the man that you were.
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