‘We just want to give back.’ Steilacoom baseball keeping Reese Widman’s memory alive
Reese Widman was the first kid Micah Bujacich ever played catch with. When he was 5 years old, he remembers tossing the ball with Reese, who was a year older.
They played a lot of baseball over the years, from youth leagues into their time at Steilacoom High School. They were close friends, spending time together playing baseball, hanging out at each other’s houses, playing video games online.
They were competitive, whether it was on the baseball diamond or talking smack in “Call of Duty” or “MLB The Show.” Bujacich is still holding onto those memories.
“We always hung out together,” said Bujacich, now a senior standout pitcher at Steilacoom.
Reese Widman died in January 2023 from suicide, shaking Steilacoom’s tight-knit community. His dad, Corey Widman, remains the head baseball coach at Steilacoom. In a note Reese left for him before his death, he told his dad to keep coaching until it wasn’t fun anymore. Some days are easier than others.
“People say time heals all wounds — I don’t know about that,” Corey said. “He was a huge part of this community, huge part of this team, huge part of this school.
“You can see that in the way these guys who played with him as freshmen and sophomores carry themselves and the way they go about the game. It’s really quite a testament to the impact that he left and for me as a coach, I’m really proud of the culture we’re building here.”
Over a year later, Steilacoom’s coaches and players are keeping Reese’s memory alive. There’s a sign on the outfield fence with Reese’s name and jersey number. There’s a mural with silhouettes of Reese painted onto the back of the home dugout.
During a game this spring, Bujacich threw a pretty 12-6 curveball that looked just like one of Reese’s.
“Nice pitch, Reese!” Corey called out mistakenly, catching himself.
Reese and Micah loved to hype each other up. During a winner-to-state game at White River during Reese’s junior year and Micah’s sophomore year, Reese got into Micah’s ear while the two were standing around the on-deck circle after a White River pitching change.
“They shouldn’t pitch to us here,” he told Bujacich.
Widman was right. He hit a double, then Bujacich hit a home run to send the Sentinels to the state tournament, a dream come true for the Class 2A school.
“It was the greatest feeling ever,” Bujacich said.
If Bujacich mishandled a ground ball at shortstop during a practice, Reese let him hear about it.
“Just the competitive spirit,” Bujacich said. “He embedded it in me. I feel like that’s why I pitch with a lot of emotion and play with a lot of emotion, because of him. That’s what he did.”
Corey Widman and his wife, Kelly, started a foundation in Reese’s memory called “Widdy’s Work.” In the wake of their son’s death, they’ve made it their mission to spread mental health awareness.
“There’s a stigma, especially on athletes,” Widman said. “They’re type-A personalities. They always feel they have to be tough. Reese was very much that. We’re just trying to spread that it’s OK to not be OK.”
The foundation has created a number of college scholarships, including one each year for a senior Steilacoom High School baseball player who embodies the leadership qualities Reese had. New Level 360, a club baseball program in Puyallup operated by Puyallup Vikings coach Marc Wiese, which Reese played for, has played a role in helping the foundation’s message. It implemented a sports-performance program called “Master Your Mindset,” designed to help athletes cope with the pressures and challenges of sports. And it created a position for Widman as a mental wellness advocate.
“We just want to give back,” Widman said. “The baseball community has been very good to us. The baseball community is big but it’s tight. You go to battle between the lines, but there’s a mutual respect after the games.”
Bujacich has tried to live his life more like Reese did, making people smile and checking in on teammates whenever possible.
Widman still gets emotional thinking about Reese on the baseball field, where he was happiest, competing with his friends. It might never get easier, but he’ll keep showing up until it’s not fun anymore.
“Personally, I just felt like these guys were already robbed of him,” he said from practice last week, fighting back tears. “I owe it to them to be out there.”
This story was originally published April 17, 2024 at 5:00 AM.
