A MOMENT OF SILENCE, A TIME FOR TEARS.

Byline: VINCENT BONSIGNORE

SANTA MARIA - Wednesday wasn't only about a college baseball team playing through devastating hurt while trying to make sense of the senseless.

It was also about fathers hugging their sons a little tighter and mothers saying an extra I love you.

Nolan LeMar, a talented outfielder for College of the Canyons who dreamed of one day playing for the Dodgers, was killed Monday night when an apparent drunk driver crossed a median and slammed into LeMar's car as he drove home. In his honor, and at the urging of LeMar's parents, his grief-stricken teammates packed their sadness, shock and anger and traveled north to play in the Santa Maria Easter Tournament.

The Cougars parents, many of whom wept as a moment of silence was taken in LeMar's honor before the game, appreciated watching their young men, still boys in their minds, play more today than they did 48 hours ago.

Even on a windy, cold day like Wednesday.

``Without a doubt I do,'' said Brooks Robinson, who son Josh is a freshman outfielder from Carson City, Nev. ``You never know when it might get taken away.''

Cathy and Scott Haag drove 10 hours from Medford, Ore., to be with their son Brett, a reserve infielder. It didn't matter that Haag warned his mom there was a chance he wasn't going to play, and that he'd understand if she didn't want to waste 20 hours of driving time only to see him sit on the bench.

As if she cared about a meaningless thing such as playing time.

``I just wanted to see him,'' Cathy Haag said. ``Especially now.''

Brooks Robinson stood near the fence down the right-field foul line as his son stepped up to bat. He searched for the right words to say even though he knew there weren't any.

``These guys are so young they don't need to know how quickly it could it all go just yet,'' Robinson said. ``They'll find that out soon enough.''

Just as he'd done a thousand times before, shortstop Tim Hutting glanced toward center field to make eye contact with his best friend.

As he did, the shock of the past two days came rushing back with the speed of a 95-mph fastball. And then reality set in.

``The fact that Nolan wasn't standing out there was hard to take,'' Hutting said, his voice trailing off. ``On Tuesday I was still waiting for him to drive up to practice.''

The Cougars would rather have been anywhere than a baseball field, but they also knew LeMar would have wanted them to carry on, and so for his sake they tried.

LeMar, 19, was one of those guys who ate, drank, walked, talked and slept baseball, his love for the game so deep that when he told you he was going to play professionally, the passion in his voice practically dared you to doubt him.

LeMar was the Cougars' second leading hitter with a .368 batting average and 19 RBI. He was a team captain. In high school, he was a member of Hart's 1996 Southern Section championship team and last year was an All-Western State Conference first baseman.

``When he said he was going to be in the majors,'' Hutting said, ``I believed him.''

The Cougars never wanted to let LeMar down in life, and they certainly weren't going to do so in death.

``This is exactly where he wanted us to be,'' Justin Wiley said. ``Baseball was Nolan's life.''

Canyons coach Chris Cota cared little about winning Wednesday, and he's not sure when the outcome of a game will matter again. In his eyes the Cougars were victorious just by showing up.

The bench was quiet. The Cougars' body language was much less lively. The passion in their eyes was absent. But they were out there trying, and for Cota that's all that mattered.

``I'm proud of them. I think they went about it the right way,'' Cota said. ``I think the first step in the process is complete.''

LeMar's No. 25 jersey hung in Canyon's dugout, and the Cougars scribbled his number into their caps.

``It was,'' Hutting said, ``as if you could see him everywhere on the field.''