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Giles' tattoos keep some cherished memories alive

CLEARWATER, Fla. - Just after 8 on Wednesday morning, The Phillies filed quietly into the locker room at Bright House Field, many rubbing their eyes and yawning.

Phillies infielder Marcus Giles shows one of two tattoos Friday that he got earlier in the week to memorialize the death of his infant daughter and the death of his best friend. (Photo by J. Meric)
Phillies infielder Marcus Giles shows one of two tattoos Friday that he got earlier in the week to memorialize the death of his infant daughter and the death of his best friend. (Photo by J. Meric)Read more

CLEARWATER, Fla. - Just after 8 on Wednesday morning, The Phillies filed quietly into the locker room at Bright House Field, many rubbing their eyes and yawning.

But Marcus Giles was not quiet, and he did not seem tired. He was already sitting in front of his locker, screaming at Willard Scott.

As the Today Show fixture read his daily roll call of centenarians, Giles became incredulous upon hearing one woman's age. "One hundred and seven?" he screamed. "How's life going for ya? Slowly!"

This awoke his teammates, many of whom began to laugh or shake their heads. The response encouraged Giles to point out that another elderly woman's surname was Burrell. "Pat Burrell!" he yelled. "He's 100!"

As he does most every day, Giles seemed like the happiest person in the room. But many of his new teammates did not yet know that Giles' cheerfulness persists in spite of, and is even motivated by, unfathomable loss.

The same morning that Giles screamed at the Today Show, the infielder arrived at Bright House Field with new tattoos covering his upper arms. Asked in the dugout about the body art, Giles' voice flattened and he became instantly quiet.

He pointed to the fresh ink on his right bicep, which featured a black cross that read:

In Loving Memory, "Big" Ed Costa, 10/27/78-12/02/08

"This one is to honor my best friend who was killed by a drunk driver last winter," Giles said.

He then nodded toward his left arm, which displayed a series of numbers. "And those are the GPS coordinates of the exact location of my daughter's headstone."

In 2002, Giles was a 24-year-old second base prospect for the Atlanta Braves. In May of that season, he tore a tendon in his right ankle and was placed on the 15-day disabled list. The setback would ordinarily have upset Giles, forcing him off the field as he was trying to stay in the major leagues. But this injury was well-timed; Tracy Giles was six months pregnant with the couple's first child.

Marcus was excited to return to the San Diego area and help his wife through the beginning of her last trimester. But just a few days after he arrived, Tracy unexpectedly went into labor, and gave birth to daughter Lundyn Mae 12 weeks earlier than planned.

The baby did not seem likely to survive, and for more than two weeks, the couple spent every day at the hospital, helpless to do anything but lean on their religious faith. "We prayed and prayed until she died 16 days later," Giles said. "Obviously it was a nightmare, but you know she is in a better place. She doesn't have to suffer anymore. She doesn't have to worry about the kinds of infections or diseases that she would be prone to."

Giles was not the type to mourn privately or quietly. He recovered by acting as boisterous as always in the locker room and proceeding with plans to start a family - it was the only way he knew how to be.

"It was an easy decision to have another kid right away," he said. "We both enjoy kids a lot, and we knew that's what we wanted." The family has since added three healthy daughters, Arrington Mae, Sawyur Rae, and Tatum Kane. "We tell them they have an older sister in heaven," Giles said.

Five years later, Giles' career seemed over, stalled before he turned 30. After several successful seasons in Atlanta, the Braves did not offer Giles a contract before the 2007 season, and the infielder signed with his hometown Padres.

Though happy to play with his older brother Brian, Giles grew disenchanted after San Diego used him sparingly, and he batted .229. "I didn't have an opportunity to play there," he said. "It was a bad situation for me."

The Padres cut Giles after the season, and he signed a minor-league contract with the Colorado Rockies, who released him before the end of spring training. Giles assumed his career was over, and returned to Alpine, Calif. to enjoy time with his wife and daughters.

But by mid-summer, Giles knew he had left baseball too soon. As he considered a comeback, he sought advice from Ed Costa, his best friend since both men were 11 years old. Giles and Costa played little league against each other, hung out constantly as teenagers, and attended San Diego Chargers games together during Giles' big league offseasons. Costa's wife and two young children were close with Marcus, Tracy, and their daughters.

"He was just like me, wild and crazy," Giles said. "We got along great."

When Giles told his agent last August that he wanted to play again, Costa was among the first to know. "He was so supportive about that, and he was really excited for me," Giles said. "He wanted to come to spring training and see me play."

Late in the afternoon of Dec. 2, Giles and Costa were hanging out on a street in Alpine. "He was riding his bike home," Giles said. "I left him at 4:15. At 4:30 he got run over by a drunk driver."

As when he lost his daughter, Giles used his friend's death as motivation to plow forward with characteristic energy. He reported to the Phillies' spring training camp, trying to show that could still succeed as a major-league second basemen. After Friday's game, he was batting .211, with a .348 on-base percentage and three stolen bases.

"I feel like I can play another eight years," Giles said. "Ed wanted this so bad for me, that I'm doing it for him," he said. "It's hard, though, because he was supposed to be here."

As he pursues the second phase of his life and career, Giles' desire is derived in part from his determination not to let tragedy change or ruin him. "They would want me to be happy," he says of his daughter and friend. "They would want me to do this."