In a heart-wrenching tragedy that shook the baseball world to its core, the morning after the devastating boating crash that claimed the lives of two Cleveland Indians relief pitchers, then-manager Mike Hargrove found himself faced with the daunting task of leading his team through the mire of grief and loss. The year was 1993, and the wounds were fresh as the team gathered at their spring-training facility in Columbus, Ohio, trying to make sense of the senseless tragedy that had befallen them.
Hargrove, a seasoned manager at the young age of 43, arrived at the facility at the crack of dawn, only to be met with a somber sight – the parking lot full, the players already inside the clubhouse, waiting for him to guide them through the darkness that had descended upon their team. With heavy hearts and tear-stained faces, the team leaders knew that they had to face this tragedy together, for the pain was too great for any one person to bear alone.
“I had no clue what I was going to say or do. Where do you begin?” Hargrove recalled. “I said a prayer to myself that God would help and put words in my mouth to at least help us start the process of understanding and grieving.”
With trembling hands and a heavy heart, Hargrove led his team into the clubhouse, where they formed a large circle of chairs, coming together in a show of unity and strength in the face of unimaginable loss. Hargrove took his place in the center, the weight of the world on his shoulders, and began to speak. As his voice cracked and faltered, the players listened intently, their own grief mirrored in their eyes.
“When I ran out of things to say or couldn’t talk anymore, one of the players would stand up and they’d talk until they couldn’t talk. We did that for I don’t know how long, maybe two hours. It was not easy, but I think it was helpful,” Hargrove recounted.
The crash in 1993 that took the lives of pitchers Steve Olin and Tim Crews, and left Bob Ojeda severely injured, cast a dark shadow over the team as they tried to come to terms with the loss of their friends and teammates. In the midst of their grief, they found solace in each other, in the shared pain that bound them together in a way that only true tragedy can.
Years later, the echoes of that fateful day would reverberate through the sports world once again, when Minnesota Vikings Pro Bowl offensive tackle Korey Stringer succumbed to extreme heatstroke during training camp in 2001, leaving his teammates and coaches reeling from the shock of his sudden passing. The challenges of returning to work, finding motivation in the face of grief, and dealing with overwhelming sorrow were all too familiar to those who had walked this dark path before.
“When I heard about the (Gaudreaus), I thought first about their families. I was sad for all those guys in Columbus, his teammates, but I know what they’re going through,” former Vikings tight end Byron Chamberlain reflected. “That’s the kind of pain that I wouldn’t wish on anybody.”
As the days stretched on, the team in Cleveland struggled to come to terms with the loss of their teammates, their brothers in arms. March 22, the team’s only off day during the entire spring training, marked the beginning of a painful journey of healing and acceptance for those left behind.
The details of that tragic day, when Crews’ boat collided with a pier on Little Lake Nellie, leaving a trail of devastation in its wake, painted a grim picture of the fragility of life and the fleeting nature of time. Olin’s instant death, Crews’ legal limit blood-alcohol level, and Ojeda’s days spent fighting for his life in the hospital were stark reminders of the harsh realities of loss and grief.
“We had like 50 or 60 guys in camp,” Hargrove recalled. “Seeing the majority of them crying — these are grown men — was really sobering in itself. As the manager, I didn’t know what to do or what to say. It was just such a shock.”
The memories of that tragic day would stay with the players and coaches who lived through it, forever etched in their hearts and minds as a reminder of the fragility of life and the power of love and unity in the face of adversity. As Carlos Baerga, then an All-Star infielder and now a Spanish-language broadcaster for the team, reflected on the pain and sorrow that gripped the team in the aftermath of the tragedy, he knew that the wounds of the past would never fully heal.
“When he heard about the Gaudreau tragedy, he said it immediately conjured memories of Olin and Crews’ deaths. He discussed it during his next broadcast.”
