Carew Back Where ‘It Feels So Natural’

Sixty-thousand empty seats never looked so good.

Two weeks after his youngest daughter, 18-year-old Michelle, lost her seven-month-long battle with leukemia, Rod Carew returned to work.

He walked out on the Anaheim Stadium field Friday afternoon, surveyed the deserted expanses of upper decks, felt the spongy turf beneath his cleats and filled his nostrils with the familiar smells of burgers grilling and cotton candy spinning. Then he threw 45 minutes of early batting practice to players who were eager to have the man Manager Marcel Lachemann calls the “best hitting instructor in the game” fine tune their swings.

“It feels so natural, so comfortable,” Carew said. “It’s nice seeing the grass again. I’ve been looking forward to coming back. I wasn’t going to take the whole year off, my family knew that. I enjoy this, I love teaching and I think it’s better than sitting around and moping.”

Make no mistake, Michelle Carew will be missed and remembered, but those memories won’t evoke much moping. Already, Carew is focusing on celebrating her life.

“We all hope our children out-live us, but I’m not going to question God,” he said. “She had 18 great, happy years. She made other people smile. And if she was put on earth to live 18 years and help the cause against leukemia, then we have to look at the good that’s come out of it.”

Within a few weeks after the Carew family initiated a public awareness campaign in November, the number of people registered in the National Marrow Donor Program swelled by 60,000. The donor registry’s rolls are up to 2 million this year from 1.5 million last year.

“You can walk into any hospital and you’ll see these youngsters fighting for their lives,” Carew said. “They want to live. They have hopes and dreams. Now, maybe some children who couldn’t find a [bone-marrow donor] match before will find one and live out those dreams.”

The response to their pleas for donor registration has been overwhelmingly satisfying for the Carews, but the outpouring of love that followed Michelle’s death has had an equally profound effect on Carew, his wife, Marilynn, and daughters Charryse and Stephanie.

The huge stacks of mail in their Anaheim Hills home provide an enduring sense of comfort.

“It really has made a big difference in the way we’ve been able to handle this,” he said. “We can’t ever properly thank all these people, but we’re determined to drop at least a few lines to everyone that sent a card or a letter. It’s a big pile and it might take awhile, but we’re going to write back to everyone ourselves.”

Shortstop Gary DiSarcina, who credits Carew with helping him mature into a competent major league hitter, said he could still feel a “sense of sadness” in his mentor after they talked Friday afternoon.

“At least maybe he can lose himself for the few hours he’s here,” DiSarcina said.

It’s not as if Carew is trying to hide, though. Instead, he was reveling in the game he loves, surrounded by the people who share his passion.