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100facesof.me

Day 31 of 100

Bearded man in blue glasses and shirt, hands clasped near chin, lit by saturated pink and purple light against a magenta backdrop.
Day 31 / 100 Weight 351.4 (-1.9 LB) Weary Sony 7R5 50mm f/1.2 1/400 ISO100

“He died.”

I didn’t know him particularly well, but he was a friend. More importantly, he was a friend to so many of my friends. And he was an institution. In many ways San Diego lacrosse existed because of him.

The day had started like any other Sunday. The men’s club lacrosse team I was a part of in San Diego, The Aussie Pub (since we were sponsored by the Aussie Pub, although I am pretty sure the sponsorship was a few free pitchers of beer and some wings) was getting ready to practice at the Marine Recruiting Depot in San Diego.

It was an amazing field. Green grass and not that far from the ocean. It was an amazing day. Perfect sun and that just starting to get warm that only beach cities have.

We sat and joked while getting on our equipment, and quickly split the club into two teams for a scrimmage. I offered to ref as I enjoyed watching the game almost as much as playing it.

I blew the whistle and the face-off was ferocious. Each team pushed the ball up and down the field, and goals were scored in rapid succession. We made fun of each as only good friends did, and laughter was heard almost as much as swearing.

I was running up the field following the action when he fell. It wasn’t anything like the movies. He was up and running one second and flat on his back the next. I, and a few others, ran over screaming his name. When we got there it was clear he wasn’t breathing and we started CPR. Someone ran to get help, and the rest of the time on the field was a blur.

We were all sitting in the hospital waiting to get word. I’m not sure if it was the doctor or a teammate that gave us the news, but we were asked if we would like to see him one last time. I’m pretty sure we all agreed.

The room didn’t hold all of us, so we went one at a time. The only thought I had when I saw him was how small he had become. A man larger than life in life was just a body on a table. They say people lose 21 grams when they die as the soul leaves the body. His soul must have been pounds.

I have number 19 tattooed on my arm. I look at it often and ask myself if I am making a similar impact. Some days I can feel it, and on those days I think back to the man that showed so many of us how to be.