The sunlight cast shadows on the field as players readied themselves, fans leaning forward in their seats with suspense.
The crack of the bat connecting brought a surge of anticipation.
As the baseball whizzed through the air towards the crowd, where gloved hands were reaching out, a fan narrowly
missed the ball, ducking just in time for the ball to miss landing square on his face.
The close call rippled through the bleachers as the fans let out a collective sigh for a moment,
before a kid picked up the ball, and the game resumed.
The incident left the crowd wondering—
how much damage could really be caused from being hit by a flying baseball anyway?
Here’s the story of how 1 baseball cost the life of a 20-year old, in just minutes.
Linda Goldbloom,
grandmother of seven, was at Dodger Stadium in California to celebrate her 79th birthday in early 2019.
Surrounded by her loving family,
Linda was enjoying her retirement and the warm, sunny day.
The crowd buzzed with excitement as the Padres-Dodgers game unfolded.
But as the ninth inning approached, a foul ball took a fateful flight towards the unsuspecting audience,
sailing over the netting. It was a total blur as the speeding ball struck her head, as Linda felt a gasp of searing pain.
Frantic ushers and EMTs rushed to her side as the chaotic scene unfolded.
The once joyous cheer of the stadium was replaced by the harrowing sound of an ambulance speeding away.
Linda’s daughter, Jana received the devastating news while out celebrating her wedding anniversary.
Her mother who had just gone to watch a Dodgers game was in emergency brain surgery, a desperate attempt to save her life.
In the following days, the baseball’s catastrophic impact weighed heavily on her family.
Linda remained unresponsive after surgery for three long
days, her body tenaciously clinging to life with the help of a ventilator to keep her breathing.
The Goldblooms gathered around Linda’s hospital bed, sharing memories and saying their goodbyes
before her life support was ultimately turned off, fulfilling Linda’s DNR wish.
The coroner ruled the cause of Linda’s death as “acute intracranial hemorrhage due to history of blunt force trauma”.
The Dodgers organization remained conspicuously silent about the tragic incident, offering only private condolences to the family.
The TV broadcast hadn’t shown where the ball hit, so the game had just continued as Linda was whisked away in an ambulance.
Meanwhile, the Goldblooms sought to establish a fund for victims of similar accidents in Linda’s memory—a support system for those
whose lives had been shattered by a stray baseball. So why wasn’t anyone held liable?
The Baseball Rule, providing legal protection to teams and stadium owners from liability for injuries sustained by fans in the stands,
has long been a cornerstone of American baseball. Rooted in a century-old tradition, the rule essentially states
that fans assume the inherent risks incidental to baseball games when they enter ballparks to attend a game.
Courts of law have generally held that as long as teams
provide warnings and install protective netting in the areas of greatest danger, the teams and stadium owners
have fulfilled their responsibility. This rule has shielded the MLB and other baseball organizations
from many lawsuits over the years, as they aren’t considered liable to damages incurred when fans are injured by foul balls or broken bats.
However, Linda’s death brought renewed scrutiny to the Baseball Rule, sparking debate about whether the safety measures taken by organizations
still adequately protects fans in the modern era. In professional games, pitches can reach the speed of 80-100 miles per hour.
Considering Linda’s age and her seating position closer to the playing field,
it is no surprise she wasn’t able to withstand the impact of a ball hitting her full force.
However, tragedy has struck before.
Flashback nearly half a century, when a child’s life was taken in the very stands… May 1970, Alan Fish, a 14 year old
teenager, was eagerly sitting with his brother and friends, their hearts pounding in unison with the crowd’s roar at the Giants-Dodger game.
With the enticing aroma of the sizzling hot dogs in their hands, the teenagers were lucky to get seats
on the second row, and were psyched to see their heroes up close. In the heat of the third inning, Manny Mota, a powerful Dodger,
took a forceful swing, slicing the ball as it tore through the air, gliding across the stadium, finding its mark on Alan’s temple.
David Schur, their chaperone, recalled the unexpected moment, saying, “the ball came out of nowhere very fast.”
Despite the initial shock and pain from being struck with the foul ball, Alan initially insisted he was fine.
An ice pack was retrieved from the Giant’s dugout for Alan, and the doctor in the first-aid station examined the boy,
providing him with aspirin for a quick pain relief, and sent him back to watch the game. However,
as the thrilling match drew to a close, the world swirled around Alan, leaving him reeling and disoriented, his life ebbing away.
His parents frantically rushed him to the hospital, but the damage was done.
Four days later, Alan tragically succumbed to his injuries—a hairline fracture in his skull
had led to a devastating intracerebral hemorrhage. The main factor that contributed to Alan Fish’s
death was the perfectly timed placement to his temple, one of the most vulnerable areas of the skull.
Thinner than other parts of the skull, our temple houses critical blood vessels and nerves.
A strong impact can cause a fracture, which can in turn damage blood vessels leading to intracerebral hemorrhaging.
Grief and anger intertwined as Alan’s parents sought justice, accusing the Dodgers of failing to provide adequate safety for their spectators.
But the jury sided with the Dodgers, as well as the stadium physician, resolving the case in their favor.
Although a drawn-out death from a fractured skull is unsettling, as our next tale unveils, fate can take an even darker twist— 1902.
On a sunny October afternoon in Morristown, Ohio, 20-year-old Stanton Walker found himself in the middle of a lively ball game.
The local game was alive with the echoes of cheers and the thud of leather against wood,
and the baseball field lay just behind his home, so Stanton and his friends watched the games often.
The sun was setting, casting a golden hue across the field, a serene scene masking the impending tragedy about to unfold.
Perched atop fence rails, Stanton was accompanied by two friends.
The young man on his left, Frank Hyde, was tasked with keeping score, and needed to sharpen his pencil.
He asked to borrow a penknife from their friend Leroy Wilson on Stanton’s right, who was happy to lend it,
passing it to Stanton to hand over to Frank. But he had made a fatal mistake.
He had left the blade open. As the gleaming knife began its unassuming journey,
a foul ball, driven by the force of a player’s swing, struck Stanton’s hand that had just gripped the penknife
before he could pass it over, sending the pointed blade that had been dangerously aimed towards him, into Stanton’s chest.
The cold steel found its way between two ribs, severing an artery beneath the heart.
With each heartbeat, life drained from Stanton,
leaving him a memory within minutes. The amateur game was local, and for the people involved, it was an accident.
There were no protections of liability involved for the ball striking Stanton’s hand and the knife’s pommel.
The ill-fated convergence of these tiny circumstances, culminated in a heartbreaking result.
But, as we delve further into baseball history’s tragic side, we stumble upon another transformative event
that not only altered the game’s trajectory, but also ushered in a new era of safety regulations.
On August 16th, 1920, Raymond Johnson Chapman, a talented shortstop playing for Cleveland, faced an unexpected turn of events.
A master of bunting and stealing bases, Ray held the season record for sacrifice hits in 1917.
There were some rumors that Ray had plans to retire from the sport after the season to devote himself to his wife Kathleen.
But a shadow fell upon his family and career, as an ill-fated pitch would forever leave its mark on the sport.
During a game at Polo Grounds, Carl Mays, New York Yankees pitcher, prepared his ball by roughing it with soil, licorice,
and tobacco juice, a customary method back in those days
to make the ball and its trajectory hard to see, making it unpredictable and challenging for the hitters.
As the pitch flew towards Ray, he stood frozen, unable to see the incoming ball.
The impact echoed like a gunshot, reverberating through the stadium— a haunting sound that would linger in the memories of the players
for years to come. Initially, Carl Mays was oblivious to the situation
as he thought the loud crack was Chapman’s bat hitting the ball, so he continued the game.
However, as blood seeped from Ray’s ear, the umpire’s desperate plea for a doctor rang out.
Players from both teams, united by sudden urgency,
rushed to Ray’s side, but Carl Mays remained on the mound, overwhelmed by the enormity of the moment.
With his legs failing him, Ray Chapman’s final words were “I’m all right; tell Mays not to worry… ring… Katie’s ring.”
Death claimed Ray Chapman in the early morning hours at St. Lawrence Hospital.
His pregnant wife, summoned from afar, collapsed at the news.
Yet, even in the face of tragedy, the human spirit endured.
Cleveland players, fueled by Ray’s
memory, triumphed in the 1920 World Series, dedicating their victory to the man who had touched their hearts.
Thousands of mourners in the stands also paid tribute to Ray Chapman, while his teammates wore black armbands in somber remembrance.
How could such a thing happen?
With typical MLB pitches traveling upwards of 80 mph, and Carl Mays having
thrown the ball with a rare submarine delivery, the low angle and the way it was smeared with the muddy mixture
made the ball difficult for Chapman to predict, and impossible to dodge in that split second.
Under the right circumstances and without a helmet, a ball could indeed fracture a skull. Unfortunately,
at the time of Chapman’s death in 1920, batting helmets were not in use in MLB, nor was the idea widely considered.
It was only after this catastrophic event that the need for better head protection became evident,
spurring discussions about player safety and ultimately, was the catalyst for the development of batting helmets.
It took years, but mandatory use of batting helmets was finally implemented in 1970.
The world of baseball is one of contrasts—where the fun, joyous aspects of the sport coexist with a darker, more dangerous reality.
The devastating stories illuminate the potential perils
that both fans and athletes face, serving as reminders of the inherent risks. The continuous enhancement of safety measures
in sports is vital, and baseball has made strides by learning from past tragedies and implementing changes,
such as installing protective netting to stadiums, and the mandatory use of batting helmets, ultimately saving lives.
By staying vigilant, acknowledging the sport’s risks while also cherishing its exhilarating moments,
and honoring the memories of those lost, we can work towards a thrilling yet secure game for all to enjoy.
After all, it’s better to cover all our bases than to face a foul end.
Based on our last video we put a poll on twitter asking, “When you order bubble tea, do you ask for less sugar?”
A tea-riffic 68% of you said no, while one sweet-toothed user commented, “Extra sugar for me!” Oh boy...
Well then, you might want to “sip back” and watch the video on your screen about how the sweetness of bubble tea
has put someone into a “boba coma”.