I will never forget that weekend in November in 2013. On that Thursday I had major knee surgery, so I was in massive amounts of pain to begin with. On that Friday, my beloved faculty adviser for the school paper, Terry Minami, lost her long battle with cancer. She was 60. But that Saturday, I lost a brother, a friend, a teammate.
Taylor Huff was someone that was so full of life and always knew how to make you laugh or smile. We weren't the closest, but we were good enough friends that we would text each other to see what the other was doing on a Saturday night. Good enough friends to invest in each other's lives. He was the kind of guy who would drop everything for you. If you needed help, he would be there. And man, did he love Jesus. He was, and is, always on my heart and mind. Losing a teammate is by far the hardest thing I've ever had to deal with in my life.
I write this in wake of the tragedy of Jose Fernandez losing his life this weekend in a boating accident. Fernandez was only 24 when he passed away. So young and so talented and so much life left to give.
I know exactly what the Miami Marlins are going through. Most of them are in disbelief. Some probably have called or texted his phone hoping he would respond, hoping it's just a bad dream that they will wake up from it soon. Unfortunately, that's not the case. The hardest thing is getting back in the swing of things and playing. The year we lost Huff, we still had one more game left a week later. I remember coming back to Abilene to the locker room and there just being a somber atmosphere, like a fire had been extinguished. You could tell no one really wanted to play. How could you put on your pads when number 7 wasn't there anymore? You have to remind yourself constantly that life goes on and this is what he would want you to do. You don't want to disappoint him. You know you have to go out there and play even if you don't feel like suiting up, you know it's the right thing to do. Woe and behold, that last game was our senior day. And to honor Huff, our seniors walked out as captains carrying his jersey between them. One of the most heart-wrenching experiences of my life.
We suited up and played the game. Desperately trying to find meaning in the game and in life. I can't tell you the score, but I know we lost that game. But it wasn't about the game. It was about moving forward and doing our best to honor our fallen brother.
You never ever forget what it's like to lose a teammate. Losing a teammate is like losing a family member and someone you work with there with you every single day -- someone you've sweated and gone to battle with. Often teammates will have a bond that people who have never been part of a team don't necessarily understand.
To the Marlins, I understand what you're going through. And my heart breaks every time I see the coverage of Fernandez's passing. I am reminded of the thousand heartbreaks that happened all at once when I found out the news that Sunday morning about Huff.
Keep praying for comfort. Bind together, for you carry your fallen teammate on your heart for the rest of your life. You can't and won't forget what he meant to you. We are reminded just how precious and short life is. We must live our lives with passion and joy. If we aren't doing that what's the point?
You can't forget them. Not even if you wanted to or could. It's impossible. They will be on your heart forever. Part of them will live on through you.
The coming days and months are going to be hard. I know exactly how you feel. Just keep grinding and waking up every day and keep living. And remember when you take that field or outside the stadium you have a guardian angel with you always. Never forget that.
Rest in Peace Jose Fernandez
Rest in Peace Taylor Huff
