THE ALL-STAR AND THE FAN: 2 INSPIRATIONS

THE SEATTLE POST-INTELLIGENCER July 10, 2001

Copyright 2001 Seattle Post-Intelligencer

CANDY HATCHER

TONIGHT, MICHAEL ADAMS will be sitting at Safeco Field for the first time since he lost the use of his legs and an arm. He’ll be rooting for the Mariners’ All-Stars, of course, but he’ll be cheering especially hard for the player whose attitude he emulates.

For Adams, 38, this game is not just a chance to see Cal Ripken and the other baseball greats. It’s his first opportunity in a long, long time just to be there. To analyze the pitching, calculate the statistics, take in the crowds and the color and the optimism intrinsic to this sport.

In baseball, and in life, he has learned, you can’t ever give up.

When Adams was 13, he went with his dad to watch Oakland play Milwaukee. He saw Hank Aaron hit his 751st home run. Nineteen years later, he was in the Kingdome for the playoffs when the Mariners came from behind to beat the Yankees in the 11th inning.

“To be part of that was really special,” he said.

And now, the Portland man will watch the last All-Star game for Cal Ripken, who embodies so much of what is good about baseball.

Ripken, 40, the Orioles’ third baseman, is retiring this season after 21 years of playing his heart out. He’s won nearly every award imaginable: Athlete of the Year. MVP. Gold Glove. A World Series ring.

And he holds the record for not missing a day of work in 16 years.

He played through the flu and with swollen ankles. He played through courtship and marriage and the births of his two children. He wasn’t the fastest player on the field. He didn’t have the best arm or the greatest swing. But he showed up, day in and day out, and did his job and did it well.

He had the traits we all appreciate, whether at work or on the field: dependability, loyalty, enthusiasm.

That’s one reason Adams will cheer particularly loudly when Ripken’s at bat.

On a more basic level, he knows what it’s like to struggle to get out there every day, despite soreness and fatigue.

Two years ago, Adams and his wife lived in London, and he took the train to work every day. One morning in October 1999, his train collided with another west of Paddington Station. Thirty-one people died; more than 400 were injured.

Adams was burned over 30 percent of his body. He suffered broken ribs, a punctured lung and other broken bones. One passenger told a London newspaper that he came across Adams “sitting right in the middle of a pool of fire.”

Adams, the man said, was so badly burned he couldn’t tell the color of his skin. Doctors gave him a 5 percent chance of living, Adams recalled, and “my doctors now think that was kind of high.”

He was in one hospital or another for a year and two weeks. He underwent a colostomy. The insulation surrounding his nerves was destroyed in the crash, so he cannot feel below his knees, and his left arm is “dysfunctional,” he said.

His life is hardly recognizable from early 1999. Like Ripken, he was an avid amateur basketball player. Went mountain biking. Ran and played tennis and worked out in the gym. “I really miss that a lot,” Adams said.

He used to coach Special Olympics athletes in track and field. “I always felt I should give back to people less fortunate than myself.”

Now, 21 months after the accident, his days are filled with doctor appointments and physical therapy. He is learning to take care of himself. He can shave and brush his teeth, but he still sleeps in a hospital bed and has around-the- clock nursing care.

His wife, who used to be his biking partner, helps him with therapy. “Nathalie takes care of our lives. The day-to-day stuff I can’t do.”

The trip from Portland to Seattle for the All-Star Game is Adams’ first venture out of town since he was flown to the hospital there from London last year.

He’s hoping it’ll be a fun trip, a first step toward independence. It’s given him something to look forward to. It’s given him hope.

Like Ripken, Adams is starting over. Wondering about the future and how best to use his talents. They’re about the same age. They’ve learned to put things in perspective.

As Ripken told Sports Illustrated, “You find out that as hard as you’ve worked for one thing, the only thing that really matters is life itself.”

Said Adams: “I take solace in how he approached his game, and how he went out there every day and tried.”

We can learn a lot from both of them.