Schmidt Takes a Giant Leap Forward

Schmidt Takes a Giant Leap Forward
By Mike Takeuchi

Los Angeles-I don’t know why I have always liked Jason Schmidt. Maybe it was because not only was he a very good pitcher, he was probably one of the nicest guys in the sport. Win or lose, he was always a standup guy, whether it was at AT &T or Dodger Stadium he spoke long and thoughtfully until the last reporter has left.
One day five years ago, I caught him alone in the AT & T locker room about a year after his mother died from a brain tumor-the same thing that killed my mother in 2001 and we talked about our losses with each other. We spoke of the disease’s brutality and effect it had on not only mom, but the entire family. It was a nice conversation, one that he had not expected from a sportswriter, and one that I had not expected from a baseball player. (Just to prove that there are some thoughtful minds a similar conversation was had after the Phillies heartbreaking comeback win in Game 4 of the NLCS with manager Charlie Manuel last year).
Now he is trying for another comeback attempt with the Dodgers. Two years after signing a three-year $47 million contract, he is trying to avoid what some of my colleagues are saying is one of the worst busts in recent Dodgers history. The odds are stacked against him, but because the Dodgers are hurting for pitching at the bottom of the rotation, it may be a godsend for the right-hander to get a few starts to see if he has something left in his arm.
On Monday, with his velocity considerably lower than in his heyday and his control suspect in the first inning, he gave up three runs on four consecutive hits to make the Chavez faithful cry (an obscenity laced) call for a change. But then something happened. With the early jitters gone, Schmidt battled, got his control back, mixed pitches well, and got out of the inning. This was impressive for no other reason is that when things got worse, the right-hander got tougher.
Any pitcher will tell you that it is exponentially easier to pitch with a lead, because simply, it is. But without that luxury, he somehow bore down and got out of the inning. His hitters got him four back in the bottom of the inning and two more on Manny Ramirez’ Mickey Mantle passing two run bomb to left in the second for a 6-3 lead.
While that was occurring, Schmidt pitched like a wily veteran with a mere 86 mph fastball, an interminably slower curve, and the guts of a winner. He retired the side twice and pitched five innings of five hit ball while walking three and striking out two, not great numbers, but good enough to be in line for the win leading 6-3. The Dodgers eventually won the game 7-5, giving Schmidt just his second win with the team.
After the game, his manager Joe Torre was pleased for the latest addition to the pitching roster.
“Everybody was really happy for him, especially getting through five innings and coming out with a victory,” Torre said. “He controlled the game pretty much. In the first inning he didn’t look very comfortable at all, but he certainly looked comfortable after that.”
Schmidt was relatively pleased with his effort.
“I’d hoped just to get out there and make it look respectable and have the team win, really,” Schmidt said in the clubhouse after the game. “I was nervous driving in today getting the text messages… there was a lot of buildup to today. And the first inning definitely wasn’t what I had planned and finally we got out of it. And coming in scoring four runs after giving up three was probably the biggest thing. I’m happy with the outcome.”
His comeback is far from complete-there are more question marks than exclamation points. But if his surgically repaired shoulder holds up, he could be the fifth starter the Dodgers need. But whatever happens for the rest of his season, for the rest of his career, he’ll always have the knowledge that he made the journey back to a Major League mound. I wonder if he thought that as he walked off the mound after the fifth inning. And as he received congratulations when he entered his team’s dugout, there was no cheering in the press box. But there was one reporter whose eyes were misty.

For Trent

Gerke is ready to make his pitch

By TRENT GERKE

July 14, 2009 9:58 AM

Trent Gerke is a 13-year-old honors student at Goleta Valley Junior High School who was diagnosed with Acute Myelogenous Leukemia (AML) in April. Since then, he and Wyatt Taylor have been designated by the Santa Barbara Foresters Hugs for Cubs Program as the youths the team is playing for. Today's 5 p.m. game against the California Wahoo at Uyesaka Stadium is dedicated to Trent, and he will throw out the ceremonial first pitch. According to Foresters general manager Pat Burns, all proceeds from the game will go towards assisting in his medical costs. Trent Gerke sat down with News-Press correspondent Mike Takeuchi and talked about his recovery and what being a part of the Foresters has meant to him.

Since I went to their camp five years ago, the Santa Barbara Foresters have been a big part of my life. And since I was diagnosed with AML, I feel more part of the team than ever.

I have always been a competitive person, whether it's basketball or trying to get perfect attendance at school. My dad (Jeffrey) who is my best friend and I have constant contests on who can eat faster. So when I got with the Foresters another competition was to get as many foul balls as I could for the free Cold Stone Creamery coupons.

Some of the kids would get mad, but I would enough balls where the guys in the press box were calling me "Foul Ball Trent". Foresters coach Bill Pintard would just laugh at me. Sometimes, when a player would hit his first home run for the team, we would try to retrieve their ball, like with Vinnie St. John last year.

I was ready to do the same thing, along with playing hoops and getting good grades in school this year, when I started feeling really tired and sore all of a sudden. My dad took me to the doctor and they said I had back pain. Dad took me back again and I was told to go to the emergency room.

After being diagnosed with AML I didn't know how serious it was. I was just bummed I was going to miss school for the first time in years. I didn't realize how serious it was until I started getting my first chemotherapy treatment. That was the worst and scariest time of my life.

In constant pain, I had to rely on a morphine drip to get me through each day. I couldn't eat because my gums were bleeding, I couldn't move my neck, and my hair started falling out. Luckily I couldn't remember those things and the 106-degree fevers that came.

The bad thing is I don't remember when the Lakers' Luke Walton called me and the decorations and cake that the Teddy Bear Cancer Foundation did for me on my birthday. My dad remembers and said the cake was good. Jerk (haha)!

But I do remember one thing Coach's visit. Coach and (hitting coach Gary Woods) Woody came into my room the first day and told me to stay positive. It was here that I began realized that I have to have a good attitude if I want to get better. I also learned to appreciate Coach and all the things he's done for us that nobody else knows about.

Former and current players like (infielder) Ryan Goetz called or visited. They all said the same thing Coach did, that I was part of the team.

The next two rounds of chemo have been 100 times easier. There have been some complications, but we've gotten through them. It has been made easier because of guys like, Vinnie whose family gave me a bunch of USC stuff, and (relief pitcher) Matt Hutchison, who came by to hang out with us at the hospital for a few hours. Hutch is a great reliever, but he's not very good at (the board game) Uncle Wiggly. When he played us he came in last.

The Foresters aren't the only team that has been great. We had a Hugs for Cubs night at Angel Stadium, where Torii Hunter and Vlad Guerrero signed autographs and took pictures for the group. My favorite baseball team, the Dodgers, invited us down to a game. Laura Levinson and Polo Asencio were especially great in helping me meet Andre Ethier, who is my favorite player. Andre was really encouraging. Later Polo talked to Joe Barkett who asked me if I wanted to announce "It's time for Dodger baseball!" before the game. Heck yeah!

When I got up to the mike, I was really nervous. I would have rather have had to shoot a free throw in front of 40,000 people than talk. But I did OK and when I went off the field, the Dodgers were running on. As he went out, Andre pointed at me and gave me a thumb's up. That was pretty cool.

Although it kind of stinks being sick, I have had some incredible experiences and met some amazing people like my doctor, Daniel J. Greenfield and the nurses at Cottage Hospital. Some of the people who I have known all of my life, like my Grandma Barbara (Gerke) have been just amazing.

But the one person who has been the best is my dad. We have always been close, but through this whole ordeal, he's been unreal, staying up at the hospital every night, trying to get me to eat, talking trash with me to challenge me to get better. I can't put even into words how much he's meant to me. He's the most important thing in the world.

When I take the mound today, I will have all of them in my mind when I try to throw a strike for the first pitch. I have to throw a good one, because after throwing a strike the first time, I bounced it on the Fourth of July game. But I think with all the backing of family, friends, and the Foresters, I will be fired up to put one in there.

A Pretty Incredible Athlete

Jason Lester Has Been Nominated for an ESPN 2009 ESPY Award in the
Category of Best Male Athlete with a Disability.

Kona, Hawaii – July 3rd, 2009 – Ironman and Ultraman athlete Jason
Lester, whose right arm is paralyzed, has been nominated for an ESPY
Award in the category of Best Male Athlete with a Disability. The 2009
ESPYs, hosted by Samuel L. Jackson, will be taped on July 15th at the
Nokia Theater in Los Angeles, and will air on July 19th at 9pm Eastern
time.

"I want all my fans to go check out nominees at www.ESPYS.tv,”; says
Jason. “Naturally, if you feel I deserve an ESPY then I’d appreciate
your vote.”

Jason Lester is an Ironman athlete who has the use of only one arm,
and his story of triumph over tragedy has become an inspirational
message for athletes and non-athletes around the world. He has
competed in a number of Ironman, Ultraman, marathon, and endurance
races, including the Hilo to Volcano Ultra Marathon in Hawaii, the
Hawaii Ironman, ULTRAMAN Canada and ULTRAMAN Hawaii.

About the ESPYs
The ESPYs gather top athletes and entertainers together to commemorate
the past year in sports by recognizing memorable sports achievements,
reliving unforgettable moments and saluting top performers and
performances. The ESPYs honor ESPN’s commitment to The V Foundation
for Cancer Research, a partnership launched with the late Jim Valvano
at the inaugural ESPYs in 1993.

About Jason Lester
Jason Lester is an Athlete | Author | Artist | Activist | Motivational
speaker - and founder of The NEVER STOP Foundation, and whom the movie
“A Painted Race” is based on, telling the story of his triumph over
tragedy, including losing the use of one arm. For more information
about Jason Lester, please visit www.paintedrace.com or
www.jasonplester.com.

Jesusita Fire and Sport

The Jesusita Fire and Sport
Republished By Mike Takeuchi

Loge Section 148, Row T, Seat 8, Dodger Stadium, Los Angeles- In an irony of ironies, seeking asthma relief from our ash filled skies, my wife Munch and I took a trip down to Los Angeles to a place formerly known as Mannywood for a little escapist amusement. But even as the home Dodgers and their rivals the San Francisco Giants played, I couldn't help but keep thinking about home.

The last week has literally been hell for the residents of our community more so for people like my uncle Mamo and Auntie Reiko who lost their homes to last week's Jesusita Fire. But amidst this difficult time, I was touched by a lot of small things that occurred in the sporting realm.

Of course I am not talking about the 50-game suspension of Dodger's slugger Manny Ramirez. While it is a blow to the team and its fans, it is far from tragic, although diehard supporters and certain Los Angeles sports columnists may tell you otherwise.

I know that avid fans, especially those in the Yankees and Red Sox realm would disagree, but I have finally come to the realization that the important things in sports are not the results, but the stories of the people within them.

While the fires raged this past week, I was feeling certain guilt about covering sports while something so serious and disastrous was going on around us. It was only when I was reassured by some parents that this is what their kids and they needed, did I feel free to enjoy the games and races. With that freedom, I came away with a positive reassurance about human nature.

Small gestures such as emails from professional sports teams were appreciated. Hearing personal stories of families at Saturday's Breakers game was cathartic. Learning that swimmers Josh Pighetti of Dos Pueblos and Brendan Kerwin-McElroy, whose fathers are both fire fighters, chose to stay with their families instead of competing in the Channel League Championships, was simply heartwarming.

The Santa Barbara Dons girls softball team finally winning a league game after going years without, produced mixed feelings. While I was pleased for Coach Rebecca Penrose and company, I felt bad that the game occurred on the first day of the fire and they couldn't truly savor the victory.

Perhaps the nicest moment for this columnist occurred at Pepperdine last Wednesday. After the Gauchos beat the Waves in baseball, and the smoke made its way across the Malibu sky, Pepperdine sports information director Roger Horne, baseball SID Chris Macaluso, and some of their players' parents went out of their way to express their understanding.

Perhaps they reached out because they have endured a similar bad stretch a few years ago, but I think it was more because of a deeper reality that in the grand scheme of things, we are all part of the same team. It was in these moments that I believe that the common bond of sport superseded any rivalry or controversy that comes up. And when the Giants beat the Dodgers on Sunday, I was able to fully enjoy being in the moment of the Manny-less game at hand. In fact, I didn't even miss him.

Nick Adenhart: Remembering a Similar Tragedy Close to Home

When Angels pitcher Nick Adenhart was killed, I was more affected than I thought I would be. Maybe it's because I was just down in Anaheim for Opening Day and knew (and like) many people in the organization, but I think it was more because of what happened 20 years ago in Santa Barbara to some people I knew. A drunk driver plowed into a group of cyclists-killing one, maiming another, and affecting the others for the rest of their lives.

By Mike Takeuchi



In a lot of ways, Ken Foraker knows how the Angels were feeling when they were at the lowest point in trying to deal with the April 9 death of Nick Adenhart.

He knows, because he too lost an athlete friend to a drunk driver almost exactly 20 years ago, and in that same accident, he lost his leg.

As I watched the Angels on television these last two weeks, and Sunday, in the clubhouse and on the field before a game against the Mariners, I wanted to show some kind of support to a great organization filled with classy people.Because during the grieving period for Adenhart, the thought of Foraker, and especially Chip Wessberg, the rider who was killed, kept popping into my head.

Locals who have been around a while may remember when a drunk driver plowed into a group of elite cyclists from behind on Highway 101 on March 22, 1989. The group, which included former UCSB volleyball star Shari Kain, Category I rider Foraker, and endurance coach Chip Wessberg didnt have a chance.

I remember hearing this funny sound from the car and an explosion, like tires blowing up and thinking uh-oh, Foraker said by telephone.

Foraker was then hit on his left sideof his left leg sheared off above the knee and launched 100 feet down the road.The car dragged him several hundred yards until he stopped, lying next to the body of Wessberg. The whole time, although he wished he had, Ken Foraker did not lose consciousness.

Fast forward through months of hospital stays and rehab, and years of riding his bike with one leg, and Foraker is training at the U.S. Paralympic Training Center in Chula Vista to prepare to become the elite road cyclist he was denied of being twenty years ago. Although things are going well and he has much to look forward to, the memories of the accident, which are never too far away, came back recently.

When I read (about Adenhart) online, I couldnt believe that these three people lost their lives because they were so young, Foraker said.For his teammates, I am sure the sadness is indescribable.Going into the locker room and not seeing him, its going to take a long time to get used to.You dont even know how to deal with it. Because it was caused by a drunk driver, it is something that can cause a lot of anger.It is something that is very difficult to accept. But once they do, theyll be able to move on.

Walking around Angel Stadium, looking at the concrete mound outside the stadium filled with mementos and tributes to the young pitcher and then inside the clubhouse elicited chills. A filled locker in the far right corner of the clubhouse with Adenhart's 34 hanging up amidst shoes and clothes, made it look like the player is going to come in any minute.The only indication of that last night is the April 9 lineup poster ó the game he last pitched in, laid inside the locker.

While it is quieter than it has been in the past, the banter in the clubhouse seemed easy.There are more smiles and light in the eyes of the players that only two weeks ago were as vacant as a condemned building.Center fielder Tori Hunter spoke easily on a number of topics from Santa Barbaras weather to his hitting the home run the night before. When the delicate topic of the teams psychological status came up, he smiled and nodded as if he expected the question.

Were starting to come around, Hunter said.Were starting to get normal now and I like that.Life goes on and so does our season.

Hunter excused himself to go up on the field where he, second baseman Howie Kendrick, and television announcer Rex Hudler stood at the top of the dugout step to enthusiastically greet many of the 8,000 area little leaguers who were walking on the field prior to the game.

The healing process continues.

The Suicide of a Nice Guy

Rest in Peace: Tom Niven

The story below my note was republished with permission from Tom Niven's family.

Unfortunately, suicide is something that is familiar to me. In addition to four people that I have known who have taken their lives, I had a firsthand experience ten or so years ago while working in mental health. At a mental health assessment house, one client swallowed 100 Tylenol P.M. pills during one of my shifts. Luckily for me, he hit a wall with a thud which caused me to run back to his room to find him. Long story short, he was taken to the hospital, treated, and saved-that time. Because I never saw him again, I never followed up on what happened to the resident. Nor did I really want to. Not because I felt like I saved a life and wanted to good about myself. On the contrary, the only notion I felt was fear and horror, and the sinking feeling that if I followed up, this guy would have finished the job he started.
Suicide is a mystery only to those who have not experienced it firsthand. Unless in extreme cases of a dramatic occurrence, it generally is not caused by external circumstance. It starts with a genetic predisposition to clinical depression, and is followed by a series of events that snowball into the person making the ultimate decision. Looking back through my former client's case file, I not only saw the path that led him to make his choice, but realized how he thought he had no other choice.
The same type of situation applies to a very nice guy that I knew, Tom Niven. A triathlete loved by many, liked by all.

Depression and tough run of events led to triathlete's deD mise

Two months later, I'm still trying to make sense of a great loss to this athletic community. But unlike other times over the years, when a disease or an accident sadly took away someone we loved, this one was harder to take.

Nice-guy triathlete Tom Niven left this earth a different way. He committed suicide.

The 48 year old left behind a wife, Karen Kistler, family, and many friends. For many of us, it was a shock to hear the news.

All I could think of was this guy I would chat with two or three times a week on the bike path to UCSB who seemed perfectly content, especially when talking about triathlon. When he ran in the dirt, his happy aura made him seem to hover above the ground. But, as we all know, things aren't always as they appear.

In a lengthy phone conversation, his sister-in-law and fellow triathlete, Kristine Finlay, detailed a complex individual who battled depression while loving the sport of triathlon. She added that his main thing was to get others involved in the sport.

"Tom really wanted to help people and share his passion, especially with Karen," Finlay said. "Even though Karen did triathlons before Tom, he gave her the desire to do an Ironman. He got (my significant other) Michael (Simpson) into it. Even his parents did them -- with his mom taking home hardware (trophies).

"We would constantly joke about going to the dark side, because we were so into it. He got me wanting to do an Ironman distance (2.4-mile swim, 112-mile bike, 26.2-mile run) triathlon because he convinced me that doing one was about overcoming obstacles. Whenever we trained, he was a one-man support team. If we went on a run, he would take care of us by loading the car with extra socks and energy drinks whatever other crap people would need."

But the good times didn't last forever. Already having a genetic predisposition to depression, a chain of events in recent years that included the sudden death of a fellow triathlete, professional disappointments in the environmental field, and a crash that left him with a broken collarbone and in constant physical pain, sent Niven into a downward spiral.

"The injury was the catalyst," Finlay said. "His driving force was to help other people and take care of them. After he injured himself, he felt like he didn't have anything to offer anyone anymore and he began to get worse."

In the Lompoc home they moved into in 2006, he isolated himself from friends and family until he ended his life on a Wednesday in late January. Family, friends, co-workers and fellow athletes gathered the next Saturday in Lompoc. At the service, Finlay recalled marveling at how her sister individually thanked each person who attended.

"The support indicated how many people cared and how many people Tom had touched," Finlay said. "The depth of the strength of the people that came was huge. The impact they had would have overwhelmed Tom. It's a shame that he didn't see it. He wouldn't have believed it."

Finlay acknowledged that Niven's death has been tough on the entire family, most especially Kistler. But with the help of a grief counseling class, Karen Kistler is dealing with her grief head on. In an email, she expressed her appreciation to the numerous people who have reached out to her and her family.

"I've been completely bowled over by the outpouring of support that the Niven and Kistler families and I have received," Kistler said. "If Tom had been able to see how many people cared for all of us, maybe he would've chosen a different path.

"What it does show me is that we all have the potential to make a positive difference in each other's lives. I feel that Tom was an epitome of that. He loved to have others experience the joy of exercise and the striving for and reaching a goal, particularly through triathlons. His commitment to others helped a lot of us do things that thought we never could do, like an open water swim, or an Ironman.

"And the community in turn has given back to me way more than I would've ever dreamed. I consider each and every call, e-mail, letter, and visit that I have received to be hands reaching out to me to pull me from the abyss. And I have needed every one as I can not do this journey alone. I cannot even begin to thank everyone for all that's been done for me and my family."

Violence in the Stands is Ruining it for the Fans

In my 37 years of attending, and a decade of reporting baseball, I have never been to an Opening Day game until this year when I had the privilege of attending both the Angels' and the Dodgers' home openers. Not only was I treated to a win by both home teams, they were exciting games to boot with Joe Saunders throwing a shutout in a 3-0 Angels win, and Orlando Hudson hitting for the cycle in an 11-1 pounding of the Giants. But that joy was tempered after hearing that violence at each stadium, left a man dead in Anaheim, and another with stab wounds at Chavez Ravine. I used to think of going to the ballpark as an escape from the difficulty of life, but that difficulty seems to have invade this haven.

Violence in the Stands is Ruining it for the Fans

By Mike Takeuchi

"My son was killed at Dodger stadium in 2003. Please stop the violence and enjoy the sport."

— Char Antenorcruz, mother of Marc Antenorcruz to the L.A. Times

People gotta chill. It is bad enough that Southland baseball lovers have had to weather the sadness of the death of Angels' pitcher Nick Adenhart, but violence at or near opening day Games for both Los Angeles area teams made the first week a lot less joyous.

The latest incident occurred during Monday's home opener at Dodger Stadium. As the fans cheered their team to victory courtesy of second baseman Orlando Hudson hitting for the cycle, something unfortunately more common was about to occur.

A man was stabbed several times after a confrontation in the parking lot with a group of men in a pick-up truck.

This happened one week after Buena Park resident Brian Powers, who while fighting with one man, was punched from behind by another after the Angels' home opener. After hitting his head on concrete during the fall, he was declared brain dead that evening and died April 8.

Far too many incidences of violence have occurrenced in the past few years.

Perhaps the worst occurred nearly five years ago at Dodger Stadium the night the San Francisco Giants clinched the National League West pennant. Shortly after the game, Marc Antenorcruz was shot.

Two years later, security personnel scuffled with unlicensed merchandise vendors in the stadium parking lot. Although there weren't any fatalities, four people had knife wounds.

At Oakland Coliseum in 2003, some yahoo thought it would be funny to throw a cherry bomb from the upper to the lower deck. It burned an 8-year-old boy and damaging his father's eardrums.

Over the years, despite beefing up security, going to the ballpark seems less safe — even without the aforementioned violence.

In 2006, before they were eliminated by the Mets in the playoffs, I lamented to my seat neighbor Jose that the Dodgers Cam never showed the fans in the pavilion or the upper deck.

"It's because they are always fighting," Jose laughed.

How true he was. Sure enough as the Dodgers were going down, no fewer than five fights occurred around us.

Even last season, when fans momentarily forgot their anger towards each other thanks to Manny Ramirez and a magical year, Game 4 of the NLCS was marred not only by the Phillies' comeback win, but several brawls — not to mention verbal abuse that reduced a petite college-aged woman to tears because she had the audacity to wear a Philadelphia cap.

Short of imposing martial law in the stadium, there seems to be no perfect solution. Because of the famous bottom line, teams would never consider cutting off beer sales earlier or distributing drink tickets to limit quantity. The only things I can think of are to beef up security, make them more proactive and not just reactive, and not allowing already drunk fans into the stadium.

Self policing would help, but it can't be relied upon. While it is noble for fans to come forward to complain, oftentimes fear of repercussions prevent this from happening.

There seems to be no clear cut solutions — only an acceptance that things are getting worse. And that's bad news for the true fans.