Ryan Rivers adored his big brother, Neil. It was Neil who taught him to ride a dirt bike, helped him shop for cool clothes, and urged him to follow his baseball dreams.
So when Neil Rivers, 20, died four years ago — shot to death in the driveway of his family's home in Essex during a botched burglary — Ryan Rivers swore he would do what it took to make the pros and honor his brother's memory.
Taken by the Los Angeles Angels in the recent baseball draft, Rivers signed his first professional contract Sunday in his parents' living room, beneath a framed portrait of Neil, as family members looked on.
"Now, the Angels have two of my sons," his mother, Kim Rivers said.
A power-hitting first baseman who attended Eastern Tech, Rivers was Los Angeles' 35th round pick. Before he left this week for the club's rookie camp in Tempe, Ariz., his folks gave him a red Angels' cap, on which they'd embroidered his brother's initials (NR).
"I'll take the hat with me," he said, "just to know that [Neil] is always there."
Rivers had just completed his junior year at North Carolina-Charlotte, where he led the team with 13 home runs and 63 RBIs. Routinely, he stepped up in big games, crashing two homers in a 2-1 victory over North Carolina, then ranked No. 5 in the country.
"It'll be a challenge, but I'm ready to go pro," said Rivers, 21. "Essentially, I'm trying to beat out every first baseman the Angels have drafted. I've got my work cut out, but I know what Neil would say: 'Man up, Tall Lank — follow your heart and chase your dreams.' "
"Tall Lank" was Neil's nickname for Ryan who, at 6 feet 5, stood five inches taller than his brother. But it was Ryan who looked up to Neil, tagging along with an older brother who treated him less like a pest than a peer.
They rode dirt bikes in the nearby woods until caked in mud, and played Wiffle ball in a grassy field until well past dark. Together, they lifted weights and jogged, Neil always pressing Ryan to do a few more reps, or to go the extra mile. Often, they wrestled in the house, raising such a ruckus that their grandmother, who lived downstairs, would holler, "What in jimininnies is going on up there?"
From Neil, who'd been a three-sport star at Kenwood, Ryan gained a rabid work ethic, a dogged will to learn and a drive to be the best. Whatever the game, baseball or checkers, victory was paramount.
"Ryan had to step up just to hang in there against Neil," said Madi Bell, 19, Ryan's girlfriend of 4-1/2 years. "The first time I met Neil, the two of them were playing ping-pong. Ryan won, and Neil threw his paddle, which hit the ceiling. It was scary until I realized that being so competitive made both of them better."
The three-year difference in their ages seemed unimportant. Friday nights found the Rivers boys at Cecil County Dragway, in Rising Sun, where Neil, an auto mechanic, raced his souped-up 1967 Chevelle as Ryan sat watching, white-knuckled, in the stands. In return, Neil attended Ryan's high school games at Eastern Tech, which wasn't easy for the 2003 Kenwood grad.
"Neil hated Eastern, but whenever I pitched against Kenwood, he'd say, 'Kick their butts,' " Ryan said.
That was in 2005, when Ryan, a skinny sophomore and already a star pitcher at Eastern Tech, led the Mavericks to a state championship. Neil saw his potential and looked out for him.
"He took me to parties where his friends would say, 'Hey, Little Rivers, have a beer,' " Ryan remembered.
Neil always stepped between the booze and his brother.
"You ain't drinkin'. Baseball," he said. And that was that.
"He watched out for me," Ryan said. "Toward the end, he knew."
On the night of Jan. 20, 2006, Neil was killed — shot by burglars trying to steal a dirt bike from his shed. When Neil surprised the three men in his driveway, an 18-year-old pulled out a semiautomatic handgun and fired. The bullet struck Neil in the stomach. Flown by a Maryland State Police Medivac helicopter to Shock Trauma, he died 5-1/2 hours later.
The shooter, Deandre Lamont Williams of Northeast Baltimore, was convicted of second-degree murder and sentenced to 50 years in prison.
Neil's death hit Ryan hard. Thirty minutes earlier, the family — Ryan, Neil, their parents and their younger brother, Tyler — had all sat at the table, sharing a pizza and good-natured banter. Then Ryan left to see Madi, in Rosedale, several miles away.
He never spoke with Neil again. They couldn't share goodbyes.
"I felt all this rage," he said. "I got angry at stuff that I shouldn't have."
Once, while taking Madi home, Ryan was cut off on the road by another driver. He sped off after the car until his girlfriend begged him to stop.
Mostly, he felt an awful loneliness, like he'd been cast adrift.
Neil was my role model, he thought. Who do I look up to now?
"I'd be buying a pair of shoes and wondering, 'What would Neil think of these?' "Ryan said. "I didn't realize how much influence he'd had on me, or how much I'd sought his approval, because it was a given."
For weeks, he was awash in sorrow and self-pity. Then he remembered.
Man up, Tall Lank, and chase your dreams.
Baseball sharpened Ryan's focus. That spring, he threw himself into workouts. Instead of running two miles daily, he ran four. He even ran after games.
"Hey Rivers, what are you doing? Game's over," his Eastern Tech teammates would shout as he hustled down Mace Avenue.
"Gotta get ready for the next one," he'd say. Then he was gone.
He pumped iron to no end, as if Neil were there beside him.
"Instead of giving up, I'd think of him saying, 'Don't be cutting on your reps,' " Ryan said.
His resolve touched his father.
"You could see Ryan getting bigger, faster and stronger," Neil Rivers Sr. said. "He even ran at 9 p.m., the same time Neil had run. He did it out of respect for his brother."
Ryan's academics never faltered. A mechanical engineering major, he had a 3.3 grade point average in college. On his study desk sits a candle from Neil's memorial service, and a rock from Neil's grave.
"I've worked harder at everything since Neil passed away," Ryan said. "This was a way to cope with it. I strived for him."
After Neil's death, whenever he pitched, Ryan traced his brother's initials in the dirt, on the mound, with his shoe. He did that faithfully until last spring, in college, when he began playing first base fulltime.
"I sometimes talk to Neil [on the field]," Ryan said. "Before each game, during the National Anthem, I look up to the sky and think how great it is to play ball with him looking down on me."
When Ryan was drafted by Los Angeles, many of Neil's friends called to offer their congratulations.
"My mom says it's a big coincidence, me going to the Angels," he said. "I don't know if that has any bearing. I do know that Neil would have been jumping up and down up there, regardless of what team drafted me.
"He was proud of me when I was 12 years old and I made the Harford Sox travel team. He'd be ecstatic, now."
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