CW: Injury, Impaired Driving, & Mental Illness
Baseball loves its underdog stories. The late‑round pick who finds his way into the spotlight The kid from a small town who refuses to quit. The player who climbs rung by rung until the dream finally feels within reach. For Rio Foster, that story was unfolding beautifully. A 16th‑round pick out of a junior college, a kid from football‑obsessed Athens, Georgia, Foster had carved out a place for himself in the Angels’ system through grit, talent, and relentless work.
On the morning of September 5, he was named Northwest League Player of the Month, a recognition that cemented him as one of the organization’s most promising young outfielders. He told his girlfriend, Meena Oliver, that he wanted to start a family. By nightfall, everything had changed.
At 2:04 a.m., emergency personnel arrived at the scene of a single‑car accident in Richland, Washington. The car had rolled after its driver; 22‑year‑old Ashante Sanders‑Jackson, who later admitted she was impaired; didn’t make it through a roundabout. Foster, who wasn’t wearing a seatbelt, was thrown from the car and landed on his head. Witnesses found him face down in the road, gasping for breath.
Sanders‑Jackson now sits in jail on a $200,000 bond, charged with vehicular assault. Two other passengers survived but are still recovering from the physical and emotional trauma of that night. Those closest to Foster are desperate for answers. His mother, Iris Cleveland, even returned to Washington to revisit the crash site, searching for anything that might explain what happened. She found skid marks, but little else.
Four months later, Foster was sitting in a wheelchair at the Shepherd Center in Atlanta unable to walk, unable to feed himself, unable to converse. His family doesn’t always know what he understands or what he’s feeling. But some moments remind them of who he is. On a quiet Sunday afternoon, Cleveland put a baseball in his hand and asked him to show her a cutter. He did. Then a fastball. A sinker. A slider. Even a knuckleball. The instincts of a lifetime-alive, firing-even as so much else remains uncertain.
Before he was discharged, Cleveland drove to Atlanta every day, often through rush‑hour traffic, to sit beside her son. She talks to him constantly, whether or not he responds. “Every time before I leave, we have this little pep talk,” she said. “‘I understand that it looks bad. I understand that it doesn’t feel good. But we need you to fight. You’ve got to be strong.’” Does he hear her? “Yes,” she said without hesitation. “His eyes perk up every time I say it.”
The accident not only destroyed Foster’s future, but it also derailed the lives of everyone who cares about him. Cleveland’s ability to work has been affected by the daily commuting and stress. Foster’s father who works long hours at a poultry processing plant and does not drive a car, rarely comes to visit. Oliver, effectively a resident of the hospital, frequently spends weeks in a pull-out chair alongside his bedside.
The toll on the family’s mental health is staggering. But the toll on their wallet? Even worse. A GoFundMe page raised $67,000; Angels players contributed generously, though that amount is vanishing quickly. Then there’s the question of what will happen once his insurance coverage expires.
When the initial accident occurred, the Angeles took care of Cleveland’s transportation to Washington and hotel bills. A team official came to the hospital. Support is something Cleveland has been receiving. However, the medical bills are mounting, and time is running out.
A team official visited in November, but Cleveland says contact only resumed on January 9 – the same day The Athletic began asking questions for its reporting. Oliver’s brother refreshes Foster’s roster page daily, terrified he’ll see the word “released.” The MLB Players Association has since reviewed the situation to ensure the Angels are operating in accordance with the Collective Bargaining Agreement.
Since the season is set to resume in February, Foster could lose his insurance with the team at any time. The Angeles have the final say in this matter. And unfortunately, communication is minimal.
If the Angels do not keep Foster insured, Cleveland says that she cannot afford COBRA (Consolidated Omnibus Budget Reconciliation Act) coverage, which will cost her more than $1,000 per month. And that’s only the tip of the iceberg. Foster will need extensive modifications made to his family’s home to ensure accessibility, ongoing physical therapy, and a wheelchair van that will cost more than $40,000.
“It would be the right thing to do,” Cleveland said of potential team assistance. “Legally they don’t have to. I don’t have any legal backing. But billionaires are billionaires because they don’t give people money.”
The Angels did send Cleveland a link to the Baseball Assistance Team, an MLB‑affiliated charity. But communication was initially difficult, and B.A.T. declined to comment publicly. Cleveland says the organization only reached out after The Athletic began asking questions.
Teams have stepped up in the past. The Phillies covered extensive costs after prospect Daniel Brito’s brain hemorrhage. The Red Sox supported Ryan Westmoreland through multiple brain surgeries. The Padres have signed Matt LaChappa to a minor league contract every year since 1996 to keep him insured.
And then there is one of the most striking examples of all: Andrew Toles. Toles hasn’t played a game for the Los Angeles Dodgers since September 30, 2018. He appeared in just 17 games that season. He didn’t attend spring training in 2019. Eventually, the public learned why: he had been diagnosed with schizophrenia and bipolar disorder, two complex mental illnesses that require long‑term treatment, stability, and consistent medical care.
Schizophrenia can involve delusions, hallucinations, disorganized speech, and cognitive challenges. Bipolar disorder brings cycles of manic, hypomanic, and depressive episodes. For families, these conditions can be overwhelming — not just emotionally, but financially.
The Dodgers could have quietly cut ties. They could have moved on, citing roster needs or business decisions. Instead, they renewed Toles’s contract year after year, including for the 2024 season, solely so he could maintain his health insurance. He hasn’t played in years. He may never play again. But the Dodgers chose humanity over convenience. They chose to protect him.
No two situations are the same. But the comparison is hard to avoid. One team decided to continue insuring a player for many years after he stopped playing, recognizing his life quite literally depended on it. The other has yet to commit to covering a 22‑year‑old who got hurt while under contract, whose family is drowning in uncertainty, and whose future depends on access to care.
Foster has improved. He has gone from a vegetative state to a condition in which he can communicate and process inconsistently. He often moves involuntarily. His speech can be slurred. There’s a depression in his skull from the brain surgeries.
He once called his mom “Bianca,” a name with no relation to their family. Cleveland wants to believe he will play baseball again. But she is also aware of how bad the accident was. Every day she wonders if he will stay insured, if insurance will cover what he needs, how she will pay for the rest, if she needs to file for legal guardianship, if he will qualify for disability, and what will happen when she is no longer alive to take care of him.
But then there are the moments — the ones that make all the questions fade. Cleveland isn’t a crier. She didn’t cry when she first saw her son in the hospital, even as others broke down around her.
But just before the new year, she told him, as she always does, that she loved him. And this time, he said it back. “I love you too.” Not mimicked. Not prompted. Real. Intentional. Him. “I was just like, ‘Oh my god,’” Cleveland said. “I told everybody who would listen. That meant so much.”
Baseball is full of second chances. But second chances never happen in a vacuum. They happen because someone, whether it’s a team, an organization, or a community, decides that a player is worth fighting for.
Rio Foster fought to play professional baseball. But now he’s fighting for something much bigger than himself. The question is whether the Los Angeles Angels will fight with him.
Sources:
Blum, Sam. “Angels Prospect Rio Foster’s Long Road After a Devastating Car Accident.” The Athletic, The New York Times Company, 14 Jan. 2026, https://www.nytimes.com/athletic/6967885/2026/01/14/angels-prospect-rio-foster-car-accident-recovery/..
Freedman, Dan. “The Dodgers Do the Right Thing with Andrew Toles—Again.” Forbes, Forbes Media, 5 Apr. 2024,
Hany, Manassa. and Abid Rizvi. “Schizophrenia.” StatPearls, StatPearls Publishing, 23 February 2024. https://pubmed.ncbi.nlm.nih.gov/30969686/
Voelker, Rebecca. ‘What Is Bipolar Disorder?’ JAMA, vol. 331, no. 10, Mar. 2024, pp. 894–894, https://doi.org/10.1001/jama.2023.24844.