Edition: U.S. / Global

BASEBALL; Fans and Teammates Bid Farewell to Kile

Published: June 27, 2002

The sun played a temperamental game between thick clouds in the early afternoon today as some 4,000 fans filed into Busch Stadium, home of the Cardinals. It was warm, not hot, not hot the way a St. Louis summer day can be, but it was uncomfortable. The fans had come not to watch a baseball game, though there would be one against the Milwaukee Brewers tonight. Before the gates opened, they had stood silently in front of a shrine hastily put together with balloons and photographs and handwritten notes. All to a young man, a pitcher, who had died suddenly and, leaving behind a young family, tragically.

They filed into the stadium, most of them wearing the traditional red of the Cardinals uniform, many wearing jerseys with No. 57 on the back, the player's number. They took their seats quietly, filling the box seats from behind the third-base dugout around to the first-base side.

This was a memorial service for Darryl Kile, age 33, a seemingly robust man, an athlete. At 6 feet 5 inches and 212 pounds, one might have suspected he was in the prime of his life.

Earlier, when Tony La Russa, the Cardinals' manager, was asked about the loss of this pitcher, he cast aside thoughts of baseball. ''This is all about Flynn and the children,'' said La Russa, referring to Kile's widow and their three youngsters. ''It's not about anything else.''

At the pitcher's mound, a podium had been set up. On the field, under two large white tents and in about 150 white folding chairs, sat Kile's teammates in suits, teammates from the previous teams he toiled for, the Colorado Rockies and the Houston Astros, as well as friends and relatives. In the front row at the third-base side were Flynn Kile, with shoulder-length blond hair and a white blouse and black skirt, and two of their children, the 5-year-old twins, Kannon, in a shirt and tie, and Sierra, in a pink dress and pink headband. The Kiles' 10-month old son, Ryker, was not here.

The memorial service lasted less than an hour, with remarks from some current teammates and former teammates and a family friend. On the video screen in right-center field, shots of Kile pitching, of him joking with teammates, of him with his family, were shown. At the last, Flynn Kile lowered her head.

The remarks about Kile centered around his gentle, caring nature. How he would be there for players, encouraging them, even a player on the way down. ''When my talent was going down,'' said Doug Drabek, a teammate in Houston, ''D. K. would say, 'Just relax, have fun.' I was an only child and I never thought I'd have a brother or sister. But I felt Darryl Kile was my brother.''

Pete Harnisch, another teammate with Houston, recalled playing golf with Kile, who hit the ball farther than anyone else. ''He'd needle us that he had a camera in his ball,'' Harnisch recalled, ''and it was taking aerial shots of our balls as it flew over. When D. K. pitched his no-hitter in '93, each out in the last innings got the crowd louder and louder, and when he threw the last out with that nasty curve, we all ran out and mobbed him on the mound. It was my greatest thrill in this game.''

Pitcher Dave Veres, Kile's best friend on the Cardinals, read from Psalms, in halting words, wiping a tear from behind dark glasses.

The Cardinals' concerns for Kile began around noon Saturday, when he had not shown up in the clubhouse for a 2:15 p.m. game against the Chicago Cubs in Wrigley Field. Kile was invariably one of the first people in the clubhouse.

His wife's concerns for Kile began a little earlier, when she was in San Diego. She had called Robin Veres, wife of Dave. The couples have been very close, and Robin was traveling with the team. ''I can't reach Darryl,'' Flynn said anxiously to Robin. ''Do you have any idea where he is?''

Word spread, and Walt Jocketty, the Cardinals' general manager; Joe Walsh, a Cardinals security official; and C. J. Cherre, the Cardinals' traveling secretary, called Kile's hotel room. No answer. They went to the team's hotel. With hotel security officials, the group went to Kile's room. Their knock went unanswered. The hotel officials went about removing the door. When they entered, they discovered Kile, under the covers, sleep shades over his eyes. He was not moving or breathing. The coroner's report the next day said he had severe blockages in two arteries to his heart. The blockages had gone undetected in his last physical examination in February.

Kile, a 12-year major league veteran with an odd, almost short-armed delivery, had pitched his best game of the season the previous Tuesday, giving up only one run to the Anaheim Angels in seven and two-thirds innings and pitching the Cardinals into first place. He was a proud pitcher, proud of his skills and his professionalism. He was scheduled to start Sunday. It was the only start he missed in his career.

The longtime Cardinals announcer Jack Buck, who died last Tuesday at 77, had been memorialized here last Thursday. Buck had been sick for some time and his death, while sad, was not unexpected. The Cardinals, already wearing a black J B patch for Buck, will add No. 57 to their uniform sleeves.

At the conclusion of the memorial service today, a local entertainer, Randy Mayfield, sang with a guitar the forever touching ''Amazing Grace.'' On the video screen was shown, superimposed on a red 57, Darryl Kile 1968-2002.

The people in the tents rose to leave and allowed Flynn and her children, accompanied by a family friend, to go first. As the widow and her twins came off the field hand in hand, the fans stood and applauded politely.

Not far behind them, Dave Veres removed his dark glasses to rub his eyes.

Photo: At the memorial service for Darryl Kile at Busch Stadium, his widow, Flynn, sat between their 5-year-old twins, Kannon, left, and Sierra. (Reuters)