This is about an All-American family...
One of the assistant principals at Franklin High School used to be Jeff Mercer. Maybe he's still there. Mr. Mercer coached varsity baseball in the days when we were cultivating a ball field that was nationally recognized as tops for a high school facility.
At home, Mr. Mercer and his wife had four sons to look after. And as far as I can tell you, they did a great job. The oldest sons were Jeff Jr. and Daniel. These guys were my age, and we were all cool but not great buds. I was jealous to learn their dad introduced them to big league manager Dusty Baker, and he taught them the fundamentals of hitting. I recall Jeff and Dan's near-perfect swings and how they ate, slept, and breathed baseball.
Jeff pitched too, and no one wanted to face him. He threw hard. He was scary. And no matter how good he got, people always said Daniel will be better. One day I asked Jeff if he really thought Dan was going to be better than him. "Oh yeah" he said. (Wow, shit...)
A short time after Jeff signed his letter of intent to play Division 1 baseball, we all found out that Daniel had brain cancer. It was a kick straight to the gut for anyone who knew the Mercers, and for them, it was pure hell.
Daniel would have gone on to play professionally, but he died during his senior year of high school. His older brother Jeff never gave up on him. Never stopped working hard in Daniel's honor. His senior year, Jeff was named Conference MVP...
All I know is life hurts, but all is not lost when we work hard and keep playing.
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