I’ve spent the last few days going back and forth, turning off and on the computer trying to figure out to put in words the text message I received early Saturday morning. It was the first morning after bringing home my new born daughter from the hospital. After we fed the baby I went into my office to remove my phone from the charger. That’s when I saw the text message that read about Joe Skinner passing away after his battle with Leukemia.
The news I received made me sit in my home office and just stare at the walls to reflect on life and the meaning of it. On one hand, my wife and I welcomed a beautiful baby girl to the world and then just 2 days later a wonderful person was taken away to heaven at the early age of 17. Sometimes life doesn’t make sense. I just sat there reflecting my times with Joe, thinking about the person he was. Joe was much more than just a great baseball player. Joe was an unbelievable person. The type of person that made everyone around him happy to be in his presence. The type of person that put others before him, especially his teammates. The type of person that a father of now two girls, hopes they marry someday.
The thing about life is that it doesn’t come with an instruction manual to tell you how to live it or when your time is up. You could be the healthiest person one minute and then you can get diagnosed with Lukemia the next. It also doesn’t tell you how to react or respond when you are told that a 17 year old who you care deeply about has passed away. The only thing I could do is sit down and write about how special Joe was not only to myself, but his teammates and the people around him.
Now, I didn’t know Joe for most of his whole life. Actually, in about two weeks when we start official summer practice it will mark a year since the first time I met Joe in person. However, the impact he left on myself and everyone else will last a lifetime. Every time you showed up to the field Joe was all smiles and would give you a warm hug to ask how you were doing. He didn’t just do that with his coaches, he did that with his teammates and he did that with me. I wasn’t even the head coach for his team. I would randomly show up to his games to watch him and the rest of the boys play that summer but every time he saw me he embraced me like he hadn’t seen me in forever and that’s what was so special about it. Even though I was at his game the day before this never changed with Joe. He instantly made you feel good about being there. Like it was really important and made him happy that I came to his game. Most kids, when they see me its “hey what’s up coach” and they go about their business. Not that there is anything wrong with that because its normal, but with Joe it was just so much more. It was much more personal. He genuinely cared how people were doing. There was never a day I showed up to a game where he didn’t greet me with a huge smile. I know this may not seem like a big deal to most but when you are 17 years old with 50 colleges and scouts watching your every game and all the pressure that goes with it, it never stopped him from being who he is and making sure that his priority were his teammates and his coaches. Not the people watching in the stands.
They say baseball emulates life in some aspects. Well, for Joe and his teammates it really did. Joe was our leadoff batter. Not because he was some scrappy little guy. On the contrary, Joe was built like a linebacker and ran like a wide receiver. Joe was our leadoff guy because every single teammate of his fed off of him. They fed off of his attitude and his competitiveness. Joe although being one of the new guys to the team was an instant leader and was loved by his teammates.
Everyone in the baseball community knew what was going on with Joe and his fight because of the amazing amount of people that supported him. From his closest high school friends, travel teams (Both who he did and didn’t play for) and professional athletes took the time out to send him messages on social media or simply hashtag #SkinnerStrong in support of his fight. That is a testament to the type of person Joe was. He was much more than just a very good ball player. He was a great teammate with an infectious personality that made everyone around him enjoy the game and their time that much more when he was present.
Whenever you hear the word cancer, death is always something that lingers with it. Whether you say it out loud or just think those words, it’s natural to associate one with the other. With Joe, you never got that feeling. I always got the feeling he was going to pull through. The conversations I had with him were always about “when I get healthy again” and what his plans were his freshman year of college playing for UCF. He never used the words “if I got healthy again” it was always “when” and maybe this is why our community is in shock of the news we received about his passing.
I had the opportunity to visit him at his home in Orlando in February. On my way over to his house I was extremely nervous to see him. We care so much about our players as coaches that when something bad happens to anyone of them, you feel and share their pain. Whether it’s an injury that happens on the field or something that is life threatening you feel it because of the attachment and bond that is shared during that special coach-player relationship. Especially with Joe. I didn’t know how I was going to react when I saw him. I just kept telling myself on the drive over that I have to be strong because that’s what he has done this whole time. Meanwhile since I’ve become a father almost 4 years ago I have become soft and emotional but I knew I had to keep it together for his and his family’s sake. When I knocked on his door he greeted me the way he always did when he saw me. With a big smile and a hug asking me how I and the family were. At this point he had been going through chemo and had been battling for a few months. His linebacker-ish physique and long blond hair weren’t the same as they were in the summer and fall while he was playing but one thing that never changed was his spirit. I spent a few hours with him and his mom Judy talking about everything. Most of it was reminiscing about baseball stories and a bunch of laughs in between. It was getting late and he was going in for another round of chemo the next morning so I left so he could get some rest. Leaving his house, there was no doubt in my mind that he was going to get through this and get back to his normal ways. See that’s the thing about Joe Skinner, its nearly impossible to leave his presence and not feel better as a person or feel better about any situation life throws at you for that matter.
I often shared text messages with Joe, most of the time it was me just checking in with him to let him know I was thinking about him and to see how he was doing. The conversations always ended up with us talking about his beloved Cubs or how his Indiana Pacers were going to beat my Miami Heat in the playoffs. Even when I asked him how he was feeling physically he would down play it and say he’s a little tried but in a couple days when he feels better he’s going to try and go to the cages to get some swings in.
However, God had a different plan for Joe. He is on his team now. Without pain, hitting leadoff, and swinging freely from the left side of the batter’s box how I remember him. I can hear Coach Ambros cheering him on from the 3rd base coaches box when I close my eyes.
Joe’s spirit will not only live on through his teammates but also through the entire Elite Squad organization and everyone else he touched. The number #38 will be retired in his honor.
We love you, Joe. We will be #ForeverSkinnerStrong
Funeral Arrangements for Joe Skinner:
Viewing will be this Friday from 6:00pm – 8:00pm
The Funeral will be held on Saturday at 1:00pm.
Both will be at St. Mary Magdalen Catholic Church in Altamonte Springs, FL
For flowers, cards, and more information, please contact the funeral home of DeGusipe-Maitland Location.
