Remembering a Great One

With the passing of a Great One, let me be the first to say that this is a sad time.

Kevin J. Rodstrom died in his home late Sunday night at the age of 30.

He fought hard, but finally succumbed to Amyotrophic Lateral Sclerosis (or ALS, also known as Lou Gehrig's Disease).

Gehrig played 17 seasons of Major League Baseball and could have played 25 had he not been affected with ALS.  During his career, he played in 2,130 consecutive games, a record until Cal Ripken broke it 56 years later.  He totaled 1,995 RBIs, and could have had more than Hank Aaron's record 2,297 had he not been affected with ALS.  He totaled 493 home runs, and could have easily reached the 500-mark had he not been affected with ALS.  He had 2,721 career hits, and also could have easily reached the coveted 3,000-hit mark had he not been forced to retire early due to his bout with ALS.

In a nutshell, the aforementioned paragraph is not to take anything away from Gehrig's career, which was marvelous, but it just clearly states how much better it could have been had he played longer.  Unfortunately, the disease forced him to retire at 39, taking away about six seasons.  He died at age 41.

Kevin's life can be comparable to Gehrig's in that it, too, was heavily-rooted in sports, and it was eventually cut far too short by ALS.

Kevin grew up playing all sports but had most of his success playing as a catcher in baseball and as a tight end in football.  I saw more of Kevin because of a particular tie he had with my brother, Paul.  Kevin was the other half to Paul's battery in both baseball and football, as my brother was a pitcher and quarterback.  Paul threw the ball to Kevin in the spring and in the fall.  They had a connection on and off the field.  That connection carried over into my family because Kevin's bright personality and general likeability were off the charts.

Anyone and everyone who ever came into contact with Kevin pretty much fell in love with the guy.  He was smart, charismatic, smart, witty and a genuinely caring guy.  Sure, he was quiet, which could be classified as the complete opposite as his twin brother Kyle.  But as an introvert, whenever Kevin spoke, people listened.  And if he wasn't offering sound advice, Kevin was quick to come up with a one-liner that would have the entire room chuckling.

I was fortunate enough to actually be a teammate of Kevin's for my first two years of Senior League Baseball, where again - he was the team's catcher.  Kevin batted clean-up.  He was a monster at the plate and his presence in the dugout was unparalleled.  If he sat toward the end of the bench, keeping to himself, we were probably losing and he was focused on the game.  He was focusing on what pitches to call when he went back out onto the field.  He talked to the coach who was keeping score more than anyone else, because he was constantly going over which pitches the upcoming batters saw in their previous at-bats, and coming up with different tactics for their next at-bat.  He was a master at game-calling.  He made pitchers better.  My brother was a good pitcher.  Kevin made him better.

I understood Kevin because in a lot of ways I saw myself to be just like him.  What I will never understand is how this quality guy was taken from us after only 30 years, 24 of which he lived with no worries.

For the final six years of Kevin's life he slowly deteriorated into a wheelchair.  Eventually he was only able to communicate effectively through the use of a computer, much like the famous scientist Stephen Hawking does today.  Kevin even mastered that, selecting what he wanted to say to his family and sending e-mails through a sophisticated computer program that track eye-movement.

But then, ALS finally got the best of him.

ALS is a progressive neurodegenerative disease caused by the degradation of motor neurons,which are the nerve cells in the central nervous system that control voluntary muscle movement.

As a motor neuron disease, the disorder causes muscle weakness and atrophy throughout the body, ceasing to send messages to muscles.  Unable to function, the muscles gradually weaken, develop twitches because of denervation, and eventually atrophy because of that denervation.

The patient, as in Kevin's case, ultimately lose the ability to initiate and control all voluntary movement except for the eyes.  That eventually happened about two years ago when Kevin's communication with others was reduced to what he selected on a computer screen with his eyes.

Scientists have not found a definitive cause for ALS and the onset of the disease has been linked to several factors, including: a virus; exposure to neurotoxins or heavy metals; DNA defects; immune system abnormalities; and enzyme abnormalities.

One thing is for sure, Kevin was taken from us about 60 years too early.  This is a sad time, but when we take time to reflect on Kevin, we cannot sink too low.  He would not have wanted us to do that.  What we should do now - more than ever - is concentrate on the moments we had with him, which were far too few.