Tulsa Drillers first-base coach Mike Coolbaugh was killed last night after being struck by a foul ball while in the coaching box.

Primarily a third baseman by trade, Coolbaugh played professional baseball for 17 seasons, toiling through the Blue Jays, Rangers, Athletics, Rockies, and Yankees’ organizations before landing with the Brewers (and subsequently, their Triple-A club, the Indianapolis Indians) before the 2001 season.

Coolbaugh had to have had a gratifying season that year. He was an International League All-Star, hitting .268 with 10 homers and 50 RBI while playing great defense at third base. He also finally got the call to The Show that year. As a 29-year-old rookie, he hit a single in his first Major League at-bat and a home run in his third. He finished with a .200 average with two homers and seven RBI in 70 at-bats. Indianapolis hosted the All-Star game that year, and Coolbaugh was instrumental to keeping interest in the Indians alive through the summer months. I even remember the local media keeping up with him at the parent club. His was one of the feel-good stories in baseball… the long-suffering, hard-playing career minor-leaguer who finally made it.

Mike Coolbaugh turns two on Charlie Greene and the Padres during the 2001 season. He appeared in three games as a shortstop in his career, and 31 as a third baseman. (image courtesy of the Milwaukee Journal-Sentinel)

His stint in MLB didn’t last long. After a 1-for-12 stint with the Cardinals the next year, he was out of the majors for good. He played in the minors with the Phillies, Astros and Royals organizations before taking on the job in Tulsa this year. Coolbaugh hit .260 blasted 268 home runs and drove in 1,007 runs in over 1600 games for his minor-league career.

He had the Drillers job for all of three weeks before Sunday’s accident. He leaves behind a wife, two children, and a third on the way, as well as older brother Scott Coolbaugh, who was a MLB third baseman with the Rangers, Padres and Cardinals.

It’s too often that the Mike Coolbaughs of the game, the guys who make up its very backbone, get shuffled to the background and only tragedy brings them to the surface. For every player that makes it big, there are thousands who never come close. The solace we can take from this is at least Mike Coolbaugh got to come close, and he died doing what he loved.