Cardinals outfielder Oscar Taveras dies in car accident

Upon hearing the reports, the Cardinals released a statement.

“We have seen the media reports regarding Oscar Taveras that have come out this afternoon, but have yet to receive any official notification from the Dominican,” general manager John Mozielak said. “Until we have the opportunity to review the official report, we cannot confirm details. While we are still working to obtain the facts, it won’t change the fact that his is a terrible tragedy. We have an obligation to use this as an opportunity to educate our players that they must take responsibility for themselves both on and off the field.”

Busch Stadium paid moving tribute to Oscar Taveras, the 22-year-old Cardinals right fielder whose death in a car accident, along with his girlfriend Edelia Arvelo, shook the baseball world this weekend. Taveras’ body was laid to rest Tuesday in his native Dominican Republic, with a huge crowd of mourners assembled. The Royals, including pitcher Yordano Ventura, paid homage to Taveras as well with special messages during Game 6 of the World Series.

Cardinals manager Mike Matheny and general manager John Mozeliak were among the attendees paying their respects to Taveras, who along with his girlfriend, Ydelia Arvelos, was killed in an automobile accident on Sunday. The services included a visitation and a parade of flowers, according to Derrick Goold of the St. Louis Post-Dispatch.

Thousands of people gathered to watch as Taveras’ casket was carried through the streets of Sosua neighborhood Los Castillo, per Goold.

Taveras and his girlfriend Edilia Arvelo were both killed in a car accident in the Dominican Republic over the weekend. Prior to Game 6 Kauffman Stadium held a moment of silence for the pair as well.

The National Baseball Hall of Fame in Cooperstown took note.

Celebrity deaths follow a familiar pattern on social media. There are islands of people expressing their grief through connection -- “Here’s how The Fisher King brought me closer to my dad.” “Here’s a video of the home run in Game 2.” -- being overwhelmed with a river of condolences and sadness and disbelief expressed for the other people expressing condolences and sadness and disbelief. The people closest to the situation will never read a fraction of the outpouring of honest, helpless grief. It’s not for them. Not unless they need to seek it out. It’s for us, partly selfish and wholly sincere.

It feels like the right thing to do is keep digging through hard layers of empathy, trying to find a kind of empathy that’s without impurities. That means thinking about what it means to be 22, what it means to lose someone who’s 22, what it means to have a life cut short, what that expression even means, what his loved ones could possibly be thinking, what you would think if you lost someone close to you, making it all about you, you, you, then feeling guilty because you know it’s not about you, so you have to keep digging for that empathy again, hoping to absolve yourself and feel exactly the right, proper way.