His heart stopped beating at a La Salle-Rhode Island baseball game. The two schools came together to save his life.

On the morning of Sunday, April 12, Sean Maloney was standing behind the backstop at Bill Beck Field in Kingston, R.I., when he noticed something unusual. The financial planner was there to support his son, Evan, the University of Rhode Island’s scheduled starting pitcher against La Salle.

Instead of donning customary T-shirts, with their logo or team name on the front, the Explorers chose a different, less conventional message: “Jesus Won,” in gold and white block lettering.

On the back was a small cross, with a bible verse printed within (John 16:33), and another printed below (Proverbs 27:17). Maloney thought it was a nice sentiment, albeit an atypical choice for a Division I sports program.

Sean didn’t give it any more thought in the moment. With the first pitch approaching, Maloney and his 82-year-old father, Dennis, found their seats on the berm.

About two minutes later, Dennis slid backwards. His eyes shut and his skin turned gray. The buzz within the ballpark stopped as a spectator’s scream cut through the silence.

Twenty-seven-year-old Griffin Pyott was first to arrive. The La Salle trainer checked Dennis’ pulse on his upper arm, and detected little activity; Sean put a finger to Dennis’ neck and felt no beat.

Within seconds, University of Rhode Island trainer Yuichiro Hidaka was by Dennis’ side with an automated external defibrillator. Firefighter Gerard Moroney, the father of URI shortstop Reece Moroney, sat across from Hidaka.

Pyott, Hidaka and Gerard laid the elderly man flat on the grass. Pyott cut off Maloney’s shirt with scissors and lifted his head so his airway was open. Gerard started performing chest compressions.

Hidaka set up the AED pads to give Dennis an electrical shock. It only took one. The man who was medically deceased for a minute opened his mouth and began to breathe.

Maloney was eventually lifted into an ambulance, which transported him to the nearest hospital. One month later, he’s grateful to be alive. His son is certain a higher power played a role.

“Not to get too spiritual,” Sean said, “but I will say, seeing that message on those [La Salle] T-shirts, and then seeing Jesus work through these individuals… if this happened when my dad was home, by himself, he wouldn’t have made it."

Dennis Maloney was born and raised in the shore town of Rumson, N.J., in Monmouth County, where he attended Red Bank Catholic High School. He was never particularly religious, but he did find a sense of spirituality in sports.

This was a year-long commitment. Maloney played football in the fall, basketball in the winter, and baseball in the spring, with some wrestling mixed in. He was an avid Brooklyn Dodgers fan as a child, before going off to college as an engineering major at Rutgers, and to graduate school at Rhode Island in the late 1960s.

Maloney took a job as town planner in North Kingstown, R.I. in 1970, with the goal of becoming an architect. In 1978, that goal became a reality when he was hired at State Street Development Company in Boston.

Maloney was in charge of restoring historic buildings throughout the city, and converting them into affordable housing for lower-income communities. Over two decades with State Street, he and his coworkers oversaw the building of thousands of units.

“I’d go to the ground-opening meeting, and women would be there, and they’d be crying,” he said. “And they’d tell you a story about how happy they were, that this was the first real housing they had ever experienced.

“We made a lot of people happy. And what more can you ask? If you can go through life knowing that you spent it helping other people enjoy something that they should have had access to anyway... at least, that’s the way I look at it.”

The partners at State Street had season tickets to the Celtics and the Red Sox, and Maloney’s love of sports was rekindled. Even after he moved back to Rhode Island, in 1992 — or as he put it, “the year Larry Bird retired” — he continued to follow along.

His fandom was passed down to his son, Sean, a right-handed pitcher for North Kingstown High School, who was drafted by the Milwaukee Brewers out of Georgetown in 1993.

Sean trudged through the minors for parts of eight seasons, primarily working as a reliever. He made the big leagues in 1997, pitching 19⅔ innings total with the Brewers and Dodgers (two of which were at the Vet, on July 29, 1998). He retired in 2000 and became an equity sales trader.

Evan embarked on a similar path. Like his father, he was a right-handed pitcher for North Kingstown High. He redshirted at Wake Forest in his freshman year of 2023, but found it wasn’t a good fit, and decided to spend the summer playing in the Futures Collegiate Baseball League.

Maloney posted a 2.09 ERA through 10 starts for the Vermont Lake Monsters — “a lake monster season,” in his grandfather’s words. The young starter transferred to URI in 2024, overcoming an elbow injury that required Tommy John surgery in February 2025.

Dennis, who had his own health complications stemming from COVID, supported his grandson from afar. He was determined to make it to a game, and told Sean he felt strong enough to go to the finale of the Rams’ series against La Salle on April 12.

Dennis remembers walking into the ballpark, sitting down, and waking up in the hospital days later.

“The best thing, as far as I was concerned, is that I was still alive,” he said, “and still available to watch the kids play.”

La Salle and Rhode Island hadn’t played each other in five years. The Olney school shuttered its baseball program because of financial constraints in 2021 before bringing it back in 2026.

Despite that hiatus, it didn’t take long for tensions to rise. Multiple players, parents, and coaches described the two games leading up to April 12 as “chippy.”

By Saturday, the dugouts were regularly jawing back and forth. Rhode Island’s starting pitcher, Jake Cullen began thumping his chest in an attempt to get his teammates going.

La Salle didn’t like this, and let Cullen know it. One Explorer player, Shawn Karpaitis, yelled some expletives within earshot of the umpires and was promptly ejected.

“He pitches with a lot of intensity,” Evan Maloney said of Cullen. “So, he didn’t surprise any of us, but from the other dugout, I could see how it could be taken the wrong way.”

Added Rhode Island coach Raphael Cerrato: “Nothing major, just a little back and forth. I feel like [La Salle has] a similar team to before they dropped the program. Hard-nosed kids. They’re not afraid to be a little mouthy — which is fine.”

It seemed inevitable that this hostility would carry over to Sunday. At least, that was what Sean thought when he arrived with Dennis around 11:30 a.m.

Evan was warming up in the bullpen when he heard the first scream for help. Then another. And another. Initially, he assumed someone had been hit by a ball, but the commotion continued to build. He stopped his routine and walked toward home plate, where he looked through the net and saw his grandfather lying on the ground.

Evan ran around the backstop, and stood next to his grandmother, Cerrato, and La Salle head coach David Miller. As he watched Moroney give chest compressions, his mind started to wander.

“It was almost like a little bit of regret,” he said. “Like, ‘I wish I could have reached out a little more.’ I’d see my grandpa pretty often, and we’d call every few weeks. But you can’t take your time with people for granted, especially those you love.”

Miller and Evan Maloney had never met. But the coach stood by the 22-year-old pitcher, with his arm around his shoulder, from the moment he arrived until the moment his grandfather took that first new breath.

Miller gave the pitcher a hug and told him everything would be alright.

“I just felt like, at that moment, people needed someone to hold on to them,” Miller said. “And that’s all I could do.”

Cerrato had encouraged Evan to accompany his family to the hospital, but the pitcher wasn’t so sure. His grandfather had always been an avid supporter of his baseball career. It was plausible that Dennis would’ve preferred he stay.

Sean reiterated as much. As they approached the ambulance, Evan asked what he should do. “You know,” Maloney said to his son, “if you’re up for it, I think your grandfather would want you to pitch.”

By this point, the friction simmering between the two teams had completely faded. Players and coaches resumed their game preparations. First pitch was pushed back from noon to 12:20 p.m.

In the interim, La Salle infielder Alec Welshans approached Miller. He and his teammates usually joined in a prayer before the game, but in light of recent events, Welshans asked if La Salle and Rhode Island could pray together. Miller ran it by Cerrato.

Within minutes, 60 players were in a circle around home plate, on one knee with arms intertwined. Reece Moroney led the group in prayer.

The game began as scheduled, and Maloney took the mound. In previous starts, he’d felt jittery, but on this day, he was armed with perspective. It didn’t matter whether he won or lost, so he just turned his mind off and pitched.

It was his best start to date. Maloney threw six shutout innings, allowing two hits with three strikeouts in a 9-6 Rhode Island win.

A few days later, he visited Dennis in the hospital and gave him the game ball. Sean showed his father a photo of the 60 players gathered in prayer.

The 82-year-old couldn’t believe what he was seeing.

“I’m really proud, in my own way, of being a part of it,” he said, “because that’s the way sports should be. It’s probably something they’ll remember the rest of their lives. Not necessarily me. But they’ll remember how the two teams came together to share this life experience.”

Dennis has since returned to his home in Wakefield, R.I. Now that he has the doctor’s clearance, he’s continued to attend Evan’s baseball games. He’ll always be a Rhode Island fan, but he and his family will never forget La Salle.

Not long after the accident, Sean went on a journey to reach Miller. He started by calling the La Salle ticket office, which transferred him to the athletic director, and eventually, the coach.

Maloney thanked Miller for being so supportive of his family in a time of need. The two men reflected on what they’d just experienced, and how it seemed like a spiritual force was at play.

Before they hung up, Maloney asked Miller a question.

“Listen,” he said. “Do you have any more of those T-shirts?”

“Actually, I have a box of them in my office right now,” the coach replied. “I would love to send them.”