This afternoon in New York, Lidle was doing just that, but at 2:42 p.m. something went terribly wrong. He crashed his four-seat Cirrus SR20 aircraft into a high-rise apartment building in Manhattan’s Upper East Side neighborhood, killing him and one other passenger. Lidle’s passport was found at the crash scene. Authorities say that all indications point to an unfortunate accident. Lidle is survived by his wife, Melanie, and a son, Christopher.
Just three days ago, Yankees fans were devastated by the team’s early exit from the playoffs at the hands of the Detroit Tigers. In the days that followed, New York’s tabloids snarled with anger over the unacceptable defeat. All of that seems kind of silly now as the team grapples with the stunning loss of one of its own, calling to mind the day 27 years ago when Yankees catcher Thurman Munson was similarly killed in a plane crash.
As a pitcher, Lidle never threw very hard and never won very much, but he had enough talent and guile to play meaningful roles on his teams for 10 big-league seasons. In baseball parlance, he was a junkballer, a back-of-the-rotation veteran who could be counted on to eat up innings, win a few games and not much more. He was a journeyman, pitching for seven different teams in his career, and his lifetime record was 82-72 with a not-so-scintillating 4.72 earned run average. He pitched in 10 games for the Yankees this season, winning four and posting an ERA north of five. His last appearance wasn’t a memorable one: he pitched an inning and a third for the Yankees in Sunday’s decisive loss against the Tigers, giving up three runs on four hits.
Months ago, in midsummer, when the Phillies were struggling and seemed all but out of contention, Lidle was dealt along with outfielder Bobby Abreu to the Yankees. The Phillies were known in baseball circles to be a talented but underachieving bunch, and Lidle confirmed as much as soon as he arrived in New York. “On the days I’m pitching,” he told reporters, “it’s almost a coin flip as to know if the guys behind me are going to be there to play 100 percent.” Though Lidle was never considered a disruptive guy, he had a reputation for stubbornness. And some players never forgave him for crossing the picket line during the strike, though it’s hard to imagine Lidle seeking or wanting forgiveness. But as a result of his actions, he was one of the rare big-leaguers who wasn’t a member of the players’ union.
A few weeks ago, during a lazy point in the Yankees’ regular season, the New York Times published a piece about Lidle’s affection for flying . The story noted that “a player-pilot is still a sensitive topic for the Yankees” because of what happened to Munson, but Lidle brushed off the front office’s worries, noting that his plane was equipped with a parachute should something go wrong. He had learned to fly during the off season last year, earning his pilot license and drawing praise for his skill and calm from his Pomona, Calif., flight instructor. “It’s basically to bring things a little closer to reach,” Lidle told the Times. “Now I can go to Pebble Beach if I want, and instead of driving there for five hours, I can fly there in an hour and 45 minutes. I can go to Arizona to golf, or Vegas, wherever.”
It’s unclear where Lidle was headed—small planes on flights such as this aren’t required to be in contact with air-traffic controllers—but Lidle had told reporters days before that he planned to fly his plane home to California.
