The feeling was always that Schilling would ride happily — and noisily — into the sunset. With his brashness, coupled with his fondness for the camera, he seemed destined for a career in sports broadcasting. Schilling, who campaigned for George W. Bush for president in 2004, even talked of running for the U.S. Senate.
Schilling always had enemies, but they were usually limited to various sportswriters, rival players, sometimes his own teammates, and this and that club official. But the fans, they loved him. Even fans who’d roll their eyes at his various pronouncements and seeming expertise on just about everything couldn’t help but marvel that he was one of the best big-game pitchers in history.
In other words, he always backed up the talk.
The demise of his company, 38 Studios, changed all that. Schilling has been ripped, mocked and parodied. And if you’re a Rhode Island taxpayer or an ex-employee of his, you’ve got plenty to be angry about.
But cancer? Even if it turns out to be easily treated, it’s impossible not to take a step back and wonder how things could go so wrong so fast.
You can like Curt Schilling. You can choose not to like him. But your priorities are sadly misplayed if you don’t feel bad for the guy.