To twin, Lidle still part of his life
The Lakeland man is finding ways to honor the ex-pitcher who died in a plane crash.
By MARC TOPKIN
Published February 15, 2007
By now, they'd have shared a few stories, maybe a meal if it were convenient and some laughs. Definitely some laughs. The twin boys had a lot of things in common but - using the example of the silly Japanese game show video they shared by e-mail - it was their odd sense of humor that may have been most special.
But Kevin Lidle isn't going to have those conversations this spring. There won't be any get-togethers after workouts. No talking about his brother's chances with his latest team.
As hundreds of major-leaguers return to the fields across Florida and Arizona this week, Kevin Lidle sits in Lakeland thinking about the one who won't: his brother Cory, who was killed when his small plane flew into a New York building in October.
"Different days are different," Kevin said. "Some days the thoughts are there more than others. I guess in a way it's sad. But the majority of time there's positive thoughts. Memories I'm able to have of him.
"Sometimes, I don't want to say I play a game, but sometimes I'll just think, 'What would Cory say about a certain situation?' And I'll know to the exact phrase what he might say. A certain thing will just remind me of what he'd think or say. And I know I'm on the same page."
They were incredibly close growing up, fraternal twins who could be identical, separated by six minutes at birth, and never far in spirit. They both made baseball their careers, though Cory was more successful, pitching parts of nine seasons in the majors, including 1999-2000 with the Devil Rays.
Kevin, a catcher, never made it past Triple A, spending 11 years in the minors and another in independent ball. He moved to Lakeland in 2004 to be near his daughter, dealt poker for a while at the Hard Rock and now is working hard instructing at and managing the expansive new Lakeland Baseball Academy training facility.
Kevin, 34, hasn't let his mind wander enough to consider - had Cory signed with a team that trains in Central Florida - that they would be hanging out together right now, refusing, at least for now, the emotional torment. "It really hasn't entered my brain that he would have been here," Kevin said. "It's not something I'm really struggling with right now. I haven't put that angle on it."
In California, Lidle's widow, Melanie, and 6-year-old son, Christopher, are still trying to accept life without him. "Melanie's being very strong about everything," Kevin said. "They're going to counseling and Melanie said that's helping both of them out a tremendous amount. They're doing good. But like anyone close with Cory, it's tough."
Wearing one of his brother's No. 30 Yankees jerseys, Kevin joined Melanie to welcome more than 300 supporters who gathered last month in Hollywood for an annual charity event that now has to be called the Cory Lidle Memorial Poker Tournament, raising more than $58,000 for the Make-A-Wish Foundation. Donations can be sent to the Cory Lidle Foundation, P.O. Box 4334, Covina, Calif., 91723, or see corylidle.org.
All of Major League Baseball grieved and Lidle's last team, the Yankees, will announce soon a plan to honor him throughout the season. (They opted not to issue his No. 30 this spring.) In Lidle's West Covina, Calif., hometown there is talk of naming a street and erecting a statue in his honor at a new sports park.
For others to remember, Kevin created a memorial page on myspace.com "to let people know what kind of person" Cory was.
There are emotional passages, casual photos, links to video tributes (as well as the odd game-show video Cory e-mailed Kevin a few days before the crash) and a stark digital counter of the months (four) and days (four) since the Oct. 11 accident.
But most poignant is the sound-track, a Kenny Chesney song, Who You'd Be Today, that Kevin heard for the first time about a week after Cory died and felt as if he knew it by heart:
Sunny days seem to hurt the most,
I wear the pain like a heavy coat,
I feel you everywhere I go.
I see your smile, I see your face,
I hear you laughin' in the rain,
I still can't believe you're gone.
It ain't fair, you died too young,
Like the story that had just begun,
But death tore the pages all away.
God knows how I miss you,
All the hell that I've been through,
Just knowin' no one could take your place.
And sometimes I wonder,
Who you'd be today.
Friends and fans have made touching tributes on the Internet, though others have posted morbid videos showing and even recreating the crash. Much about that remains unknown even after last week's release of the NTSB investigation report, including whether Cory or flight instructor Tyler Stanger was at the controls.
If Lidle was, a $1.5-million death benefit does not have to be paid due to an exclusion in the policy against flying a plane.
"It's going to be a long time until that's all resolved," Kevin said.
As baseball returns, as their March 22 birthday approaches, Cory's absence is likely to be talked about, and felt, even more.
Especially in Lakeland. "It's not something that will put me in a bad mood," Kevin said. "It will bring back good memories."
That's all he has.
Marc Topkin can be reached at (727) 893-8801 or topkin@sptimes.com.