Near the end of our discussion, Austin Peay pitcher Jacques Pucheu talked about the responsibility of being a role model, of being someone who young kids, young players—the next generation of ballplayers—can look up to.
I'm neither young, nor a ballplayer, but I came away from our chat looking up to Jacques as well.
He leaves a profound impact, even in the briefest interactions. To be so young, to have been through so much and maintain such an outlook on life—that everything has its purpose, that there's always a tomorrow and the most important thing to do in life is just to keep going—is a lesson we can all aspire to.
On the diamond, Pucheu is known for a blazing fastball, a biting slider and a bulldog mentality. It's led him to a 7-3 record, a 3.98 ERA and 95 strikeouts, putting him just a handful of punchouts away from becoming just the third Gov in program history with 100 strikeouts in a single season. Paired with fellow All-OVC honoree Michael Costanzo, the duo form one of the best rotations in the league.
What's transpired for Pucheu in 2018 is a season-long culmination in the player Austin Peay fans began to see late last season, when he moved to the starting rotation and began to baffle opposing batters. He was still a bit rusty, shaking off a partially torn UCL suffered at East Mississippi Community College, which brought a premature end to his freshman campaign.
"I didn't feel myself a lot last year because of a previous injury," he said. "It wasn't a physical thing so much as a mental block. I tore it on a slider in junior college. So there was a mental block about throwing breaking stuff and I was trying to change arm motion to prevent injury."
Last fall, he began feeling more like his old self again. Until tragedy rocked his world.
November 13 of last year, Sydney Pucheu was driving home to Gulfport, Mississippi when she was killed in an auto accident. The 23-year old was starting her career in hospitality management near Dallas when her vehicle struck a semi on Interstate 20 near Lindale, Texas. She had a life ahead of her that was cut short far too soon.
She was also Jacques Pucheu's sister.
To somehow calculate an incalculable tragedy, to bring it into the perspective it deserves, would be the job of someone more talented than I. For Jacques and his family, the senselessness of their loss has been matched only by their ability to lift one another during the worst part of their lives.
"I found strength from my brother (Jacob) and my family," Pucheu said. "We're a tight-knit group. My brother and I are best friends, my sister as well. We pulled together. It's still tough. You have to live through it. It's what she'd want."
To call baseball a refuge under such circumstances would be trite. Baseball offers a few hours salvation each day for Jacques. It gives him a chance to put his talents—which his sister was so proud of—on display and to clear his mind, however briefly, from tragedy.
But she is never far from his thoughts.
"I feel like she's with me through everything," he said. "Before the game starts, I say a quick prayer and then once I'm on the mound, I just ask her to be with me, keep my emotions in check and help me compete. (Growing up), we always competed; we were just over two years apart, and most of the time she won. A lot of my success I have to give to her, because she taught me how to be a competitor.
"It's hard, because you have those great memories but you wish you could have more memories with her. She was arguably my biggest supporter. Not having her here, to watch…"
He trails off.
"No matter what, you've got to keep going," he continued. "At the end of the day, life is going to move on. You have your time and your getaways and time you can talk about it and people you can talk about it with when you're going through something, but at the end of the day most of the world doesn't really care what you're going through, because there's lots of people going through even worse."
Throughout our conversation, we talk about purpose, about the why's of tragedy. Pucheu doesn't pretend to have the answers for something as senseless as the loss of his sibling. But where some would turn bitter, resent life, resent everything, Pucheu has tried to find peace and trust that what will be, will be.
"Pray," he said when asked how to cope with loss. "Love your teammates. Love your family. Love your friends. Find people you can talk to. Faith is my number one priority. I know one day I'll see her again and til then…"
He pauses, measuring his words.
"God's got a bigger purpose for this. I don't know what it is, but we'll find out eventually."
