Spending time with a gentlemanly legend was healing

Several months ago I wrote about my continuing five-year-plus annoyance with colorectal cancer that migrated to my lungs. Back then I had just been dropped from an experimental program called a “clinical trial.” Trials consist of injecting or ingesting certain drugs approved by the Food and Drug Administration for experimental use, but not yet cleared for the open market. The drugs must show a suitable success rate for a given segment of the afflicted population before the product can result in regular usage.

I’m getting ready to embark on another clinical trial. I was in the first trial from February to September of 2013. What

I didn’t mention was that I was in the trial with baseball great Tony Gwynn every Monday from 7 a.m. to 7 p.m. Our cancers were similar, but in different locations. The drug stopped working for us at the same time and we left the trial to go back to the harsh effects of chemotherapy.

Tony’s death hit me harder than I anticipated. After all, I had been to numerous autopsies and dealt with death, both natural and unexpected, for much of my 35-year police career. I know it all ends eventually for everyone. Nevertheless, I was surprisingly depressed.

I never fawned over him, or even talked about his career. I don’t think he would have been comfortable with that. Neither did we talk about our afflictions. We briefly discussed the results of the CT scans we had every eight weeks, but that is all. Secretly, I was in awe of spending time with perhaps one of the top three or four pure hitters in the history of baseball.

I told Tony I had mentioned to my buddies in Michigan that I was with Tony Gwynn every week. They said, “Who?” I said, “You idiots. Just imagine getting to hang out with Al Kaline every week. Being American League followers, they finally got it. Kaline, like Tony, was a first-ballot Hall of Famer who played for one team his entire career.
Tony laughed when I told him that. Out of respect for his privacy I only mentioned our acquaintanceship to a select few people. Some wanted me to write about it from the outset, but I wouldn’t hear of it.

We did talk SDSU baseball and sports in general. One bit of gossip that you will only read about here involves former Padre Jim Leyritz. While with the Padres, Leyritz bad-mouthed Tony to a reporter, saying Gwynn wasn’t a team player. Yes, Tony was a little reserved, focused, and aloof, maybe even to his teammates. You would be too if nearly everyone you met tried to get a piece of you. That’s why I never asked him for an autograph or to pose with me for a photo. He would have done it, I’m sure, but I thought it would have cheapened our relationship.

What made me bring up Jim Leyritz was the Padres 15-year reunion of the 1998 World Series team. Right there on television I saw Leyritz talking with Gwynn. I did ask him if that was awkward, given Leyritz’s previous unwarranted criticism of him. Tony laughed and shrugged. He said Leyritz has two sons approaching college age and he asked Tony to consider them for the Aztec team. Tony never told me what his answer was, but I imagine it was gentlemanly.
See what I mean about everybody wanting something from him? Bad mouth a guy and then 15 years later try to get a favor from him.

I’m on another clinical trial now. I continue to feel good on my good days when I’m not on my back from chemotherapy infusions. According to the doctors, the trial is not supposed to have major negative side effects. I’ll be the judge of that. Stay tuned.