ROANOKE TIMES
Copyright (c) 1996, Roanoke Times
DATE: Sunday, March 24, 1996 TAG: 9603250061
SECTION: SPORTS PAGE: C-9 EDITION: METRO
DATELINE: ATLANTA
SOURCE: Associated Press
MOST REPLACEMENT PLAYERS have been forgotten, but Felicia Shotkoski says she wishes more people remembered her husband, Dave, who was shot and killed while pitching for the Atlanta Braves.
Felicia Shotkoski collects newspaper clippings that will help her daughter understand why her father was pursuing a dream. There will be no way to explain the terrible end to Dave Shotkoski's life before his daughter, Alexis, had celebrated her first birthday.
``They say everyone has a time to go,'' Felicia Shotkoski said, trying to hold back tears. ``If that's true, I'm glad he was playing baseball when it happened, because he enjoyed doing that.''
It's been a year since Dave Shotkoski, 30, was shot to death during an apparent robbery while walking in West Palm Beach, Fla. He was on leave from his ``real'' job so he could live out a fantasy - to pitch for the Atlanta Braves as a replacement player while the major-leaguers were on strike.
As another baseball season approaches, Felicia Shotkoski feels abandoned by the sport her husband loved, and by the legal system that has yet to bring his killer to justice.
Dave Shotkoski was shot to death March 24, 1995. It will be at least another three months before the trial of Neal Douglas Evans, a repeat felon wanted for parole violations at the time of his arrest.
Prosecutors plan to seek the death penalty.
``He sits in jail getting three free meals a day,'' she said from her home in North Aurora, Ill. ``He has a gym, a workout room, a basketball court they just built for them, a library, showers, everything.''
She talks about doing something, anything, to stem the tide of violence.
``Some gun-control people called me ... but I believe we'll never see guns off the street,'' Felicia Shotkoski said.
The World Series champions are finishing another spring training, one that didn't involve the bitter legacy of replacement players. The strike is all but forgotten.
Shotkoski, 30, feels she has been forgotten.
The team gave her the benefits from a $10,000 insurance policy it took out on her husband's life, but nothing else, she said, adding that she has difficulty making ends meet each month.
No one from the organization has called since September, she said, and no player ever phoned. Two players made donations to a trust fund set up for 21-month-old Alexis.
``I wish I could put them all in a room to explain to them that Dave wasn't there to take Greg Maddux's spot,'' Shotkoski said.
Tom Glavine, the Braves' representative to the players' union, said he can sympathize with Shotkoski's widow, especially because he is a new father.
``I hope his family is getting along and making ends meet,'' he said. ``It shouldn't have been a life-or-death situation like it turned out to be.''
Felicia Shotkoski became close to the wife of Atlanta third baseman Chipper Jones and attended a Braves playoff game in Cincinnati in the fall.
``I called the PR guy to say I was going to meet Karin [Jones] and would he be able to get me some tickets,'' she said. ``He said, `Oh sure, no problem.' But they charged me for the tickets.''
Braves officials say they have tried to help Shotkoski's family. The team honored his widow on Opening Day, worked behind the scenes on a fund-raiser at a minor-league game in Pennsylvania and persuaded officials in Shotkoski's hometown near Chicago to dedicate a street in his name.
Stan Kasten, the Braves' president, doesn't want to get into a war of words with a grieving widow.
``What we did for her was a private matter and it ought to remain there,'' he said. ``It was a perfectly awful experience even for us, though it was not close to what it was for Felicia.''
Terry Blocker used to pursue fly balls for the Braves. Now he is pursuing souls, a subject he was discussing with Shotkoski on the day the pitcher was killed.
``I wanted to talk to him about coming to God, but he didn't have time to talk,'' said Blocker, who played for the Braves in the late 1980s and was one of the replacement players signed during the strike.
``I told him, `That's OK. We'll just talk tomorrow.' But `tomorrow' never came. That stayed heavy on my mind.''
In the hours after Shotkoski's death, Blocker scoured the mean streets around West Palm Beach, talking with strangers, looking for clues. Two days after the slaying, he received a tip at about 4:30 a.m.
He told police, and Evans was arrested that night.
Since then, Blocker has spent much of his time preaching to anyone who will listen about the fragility of life.
``A life was taken, but now I have the opportunity to go out and tell people about this experience I had,'' he said. ``Maybe it will help other people come to the kingdom of God.''
The Braves jersey Shotkoski wore is framed and hangs from a wall. Pictures of him dot the Shotkoski home, a way of ensuring he will remain a part of his daughter's life.
``She'll kiss him and say good morning,'' Felicia Shotkoski said. ``She'll hold the pictures of him, and I try to tell her everything about him.''
Even if Shotkoski's alleged killer is convicted and executed, his widow doesn't expect a reprieve from her pain.
``It's still very lonely and very hard,'' she said. ``People tell me I'm stubborn and strong. Unfortunately, there's nothing I can do with this situation I'm in, so I just try to make the best of it.''
LENGTH: Long : 109 lines ILLUSTRATION: PHOTO: AP. Felicia Shotkoski plays with her 21-month-oldby CNBdaughter, Alexis, at Felicia's parents' home in Hanover Park, Ill.
Shotkoski's husband, Dave, was killed in 1995 during an apparent
robbery while he was a replacement player for the Atlanta Braves. KEYWORDS: FATALITY