
"We're just trying to let the guys know it's OK to have the feelings we're all having," Scioscia said. "A heavy heart is certainly normal."
Not just for the players. Moreno noticed the Angels' coaches reminding Scioscia that he did not need to suppress his emotions to be a leader, that he could have those feelings too.
Scioscia and the Angels can find refuge between the foul lines.
"It's almost like a haven," Scioscia said. "I think that's the least of our worries. We'll be playing Baseball.
It could be Saunders pulling out his Washington Redskins shirt, smiling or crying at the memory of Adenhart wearing his Redskins shirt to the ballpark for his last game.
It could be Moseley checking in with his little brother, happy or sad as he remembers that kid brother is the same age as Adenhart.
It could be anyone on the team, inspired or emotionally overwhelmed at the sight of Adenhart's locker, home and away, day in and day out, for the rest of the season.
"At a point, everything kind of moves on," Drew said. "That's how it is in everyday life, through tragedy.
"You have to move on, as much as you don't want to. You move on from the pain of the tragedy to a lighthearted side, to remembering what a good guy he was. That's more of what guys took from Darryl down the road."
The Angels will get there too, in their own way and on their own time, perhaps in time for October. The Cardinals lost five of the first seven games after Kile died, but they made the playoffs.
No one threw out the ceremonial first pitch at Angel Stadium. The Angels held the spot open for Adenhart's father, who declined amid his tears. We'd love to see him back here in October, throwing out the first pitch for the playoffs, with his son's jersey on his back and a smile on his face.
Tight hamstrings, sore knees, tired arms . . . the Angels are used to coping with such nagging injuries.