It became a tragic sports story

Just after 2:30 yesterday afternoon, under soupy skies, a small plane flew into a high-rise building in New York City. On 10/11. One month after 9/11. Television newsrooms switched to live reports of the crash and its potential implications. The talking heads told us that military planes had been sent into the airspace over several major American cities. Just in case.

Then came the surprise report that the small plane that crashed into the 42-story building on the Upper East Side was registered to Yankees pitcher Cory Lidle. Then it was confirmed that Lidle had been in the plane. His passport was found on the sidewalk below the 30th and 31st floors, where the plane crashed.

Horrible as this sounds, there was a sense of relief when it was confirmed that Lidle was in the cockpit with a flight instructor. This meant that the crash, though tragic, was not an act of terrorism. It was not a plot. There was no threat to national security. This was an accident.

Two killed in plane crash; baseball stunned by Lidle news. A2, E5

Suddenly, a lot of television watchers switched from CNN to ESPN. The international news story was becoming a sad sports story. And at 5:09 p.m., less than three hours after Lidle's plane took off from Teterboro Airport, an ESPN guy actually asked Peter Gammons how this event was going to impact the Yankees' pitching staff for 2007.

At Shea Stadium and 3,000 miles west in Oakland, Calif., there were 100 major league baseball players getting ready for playoff games. Many of them had played with Lidle, who played for seven teams in nine seasons. Just about all of them had played against him. The Tigers stepped into the batter's box against Lidle just last week. Lidle had been a member of the Athletics for two seasons. Mets slugger Carlos Delgado was a teammate in Toronto. Mets pitching coach Rick Peterson had been Lidle's pitching coach in Oakland.

ESPN didn't have to dig deep to find a lengthy interview Lidle gave after the Tigers bumped the Yankees from the playoffs. It was eerie to see the image of the 34-year-old righthander, smiling and calmly answering questions after the disappointment. He talked about Joe Torre and the frustrating finish. Soon a video surfaced -- Lidle showing off his new, $187,000 Cirrus SR20. Lidle in the cockpit.

And then there was the ``Lidle as pilot" story written by Tyler Kepner in the New York Times Sept. 8. Lidle's flight instructor, Tyler Stanger, of Pomona, Calif., told Kepner, ``[Lidle] probably was my best student." Lidle spoke fondly of his four-seat plane and its parachute/safety system. He said, ``If you're up in the air and something goes wrong, you pull that parachute, and the whole plane goes down slowly."

Lidle said he wasn't worried about the danger of flying his own plane. This demonstrated his streak of stubbornness -- the same attitude that enabled him to pitch nine years in the big leagues without overpowering stuff.

For those of us over 35, it was impossible to see and hear all this without thinking of Thurman Munson, who was the heart of the defending champion Yankees when he crashed his plane during an offday in August 1979. Like Lidle, Munson left a young family behind, and his passing generated a lot of talk about the wisdom of professional athletes flying their own airplanes. Munson's locker remains empty in the home clubhouse at Yankee Stadium.

Before yesterday, most Red Sox fans associated Lidle with the trading deadline of 2006. Lidle was a Phillies pitcher for the first half of this season and the Sox made a bid for him at the end of July. Yankees general manager Brian Cashman found out about Boston's interest in Lidle and insisted Lidle be included in New York's expensive acquisition of Bobby Abreu. And so Abreu and Lidle went to the Yankees, while the Sox stood pat.

By 7 o'clock last night, the Mets-Cardinals game had been postponed. Major League Baseball made it very clear that the game was called because of rain, not because of Lidle. Statements of sympathy were issued by commissioner Bud Selig and Yankees owner George Steinbrenner. There was a lot of talk about perspective -- a word we always use when real life and death interrupt our fun and games. Baseball was insignificant again. Especially since the Cardinals and Mets were rained out.

By 7:15, ESPN had moved on to Donovan McNabb and Terrell Owens, and newspapers across the land debated the merits of the Lidle crash as Page 1 material.

Then it was time to watch the Tigers and A's. New York was safe again. One more strange, sad day in the city that doesn't sleep.

Dan Shaughnessy is a Globe columnist. His e-mail address is dshaughnessy@globe.com