The Christensen incident
Two seconds into the national anthem, and Ben Christensen is meditating.
He prays and prays, talking to God until the last note sounds and his world kick-starts once more.
He asks for the usual: health, safety, patience but not for forgiveness.
"I'm at peace with myself, even after what happened," he says.
But there is trepidation in his voice. Because no matter how much he prays or how many baseball games he plays, he can't escape his past. It haunts him.
Before Christensen's final college game with Wichita State last year, he hit Evansville leadoff hitter Anthony Molina in the face with a 91-mph fastball. The game hadn't started yet. Molina wasn't even in the batter's box.
The now infamous pitch broke bones, destroyed eyesight and stained the artificial turf with blood.
The image lingers in both players' minds. The pitch. The hit. The blood. The day.
Whatever they do, April 23, 1999, always will be there. Wherever they go, memories follow.
Those images popped into Christensen's head two weeks ago when he received a call announcing his pro career was on the move. The Chicago Cubs promoted the 22-year-old from Class A Daytona, Fla., where he had been since late last season, to the AA West Tennessee Diamond Jaxx in Jackson, Tenn.
Molina heard the news and stewed.
"It upsets me that Ben Christensen is still able to do what he wants to do," says Molina, a college senior from Moline, Ill. "It's not fair that he can go out there and play to the best of his ability while I can't do what I want.
"I can never forgive him because he changed the rest of my life."
He sighs.
"If he could give me my eye back, then maybe I'd forgive him."
That fateful day radically changed both players' lives. It left Molina with permanent damage to his left eye, ruining his formerly perfect vision and his dreams of making it to the major leagues. It damaged Christensen emotionally.
Christensen packed that baggage along with his belongings recently when he left Daytona Beach, where he was 4-2 with a 2.10 earned-run average in 10 starts.
He made his debut with his new team May 29. With the Diamond Jaxx, he is 1-0 with a 2.08 ERA.
There's no question why Christensen moved up to AA so fast. His talent was good enough to garner a $1 million signing bonus, and it's hard to miss it.
His fastball comes in at 95 mph. His breaking ball artfully ducks out of the hitter's way. He throws pitches for strikes.
Cub General Manager Ed Lynch said Christensen has a promising future, even though his "three seconds of poor judgment" may follow him the rest of his life.
"I think of what happened every day," says Christensen, whom the Cubs drafted 26th in the first round last year. "I think of it every day. I think of him (Molina) every day. I wonder how he's doing.
"I don't think anybody with any kind of conscience or soul could have went on with a normal life after that happened. Me. Him. The coaches. Our families. I guarantee you, they all still think of it."
Molina was standing on the first-base side of the field, between the on-deck circle and the batter's box - about 24 feet from the plate - the day the baseball rocketed toward him. Christensen thought Molina was gauging the speed and movement of his pitches.
It was a warning throw Christensen says went horribly awry. Molina says the throw was intentional and fueled by anger; he insists he wasn't even looking at the field at the time.
No criminal charges ensued, but Molina filed a civil lawsuit against Christensen and Wichita State. The court date is scheduled for November.
While the case brews, Molina goes to the doctor more times than he can count. Christensen's pitch left the mark of a sledgehammer on his face, shattering bones around his eye and creating a gash that needed 24 stitches.
Molina has had three surgeries, but his retinal damage is irreparable. He will need periodic operations to maintain 20/60 vision. His left eye was 20/15 before the incident, 20/400 and legally blind just after it.
Much more burdens him. Blind spots. Depth perception problems. Pain in his eye when he reads too much. Nicknames like "Glare Eye," given by joking teammates.
What may be Molina's most obvious reminder, though, is a heavy heart. It's filled with disdain for Christensen, whom he says feels no remorse.
Molina says he received an apology letter from Christensen, but it "sounded pretty structured, like a lawyer wrote it."
Molina's comeback was a struggle. As a second baseman this season, he had trouble fielding because of his blind spots. While he never batted below .300 before the incident, Molina this season hit .248 with four home runs.
"I guess I should just feel lucky he didn't kill me," Molina says. "An inch to the right or an inch to the left, he could have killed me."
Before Christensen came to Daytona Beach, Manager Richie Zisk held a meeting to announce the arrival. He described Christensen's past and how the pitcher regrets it.
While playing in Daytona Beach, Christensen listened to hecklers. "Don't hit the batter!" they'd say to rattle him.
On the mound, he's as cool as they come. Off the mound, he says, he's a different person. In many ways, he thanks his wife for that. He married his college sweetheart, Mandy, in January.
"She's everything to me," Christensen says. "She's helped me through a lot."