Power Of Love

Only because a journalist friend had an extra media pass to a basketball game did DeLeon Richards, a devoutly religious young woman and gospel singer from Chicago, happen to be in the lobby of the New York Hilton on Friday, Feb. 6, 1998, at the moment Gary Sheffield walked through. Some call this fate. Some call it luck. Sheffield, now the star leftfielder for the Los Angeles Dodgers, calls it the work of Jesus and Mary and everything perfect and holy in the world. Maybe he's right.

Earlier that morning Sheffield, who then played for the Florida Marlins and also was in New York for the NBA All-Star Game, says he awoke, got out of bed and prayed to God for help in finding a soul mate. "I had won a World Series ring, I was financially secure, I had done everything I'd wanted," he says, "but I wasn't happy."

Strolling through the lobby, Sheffield, who was with one of his friends, noticed Richards from afar, standing with her friend. Richards was short and cute and cuddly-looking—less Tyra Banks, more Nia Long. Her smile said Hello, not Take me. Her wardrobe was conservative, strictly No plastic pants allowed. She was clearly not a jock hawk. In Sheffield's world, Richards was...different.

Sheffield and his friend, who knew Richards's friend, ambled over. He peeked at Richards, who was shyly hanging in the background, while his friend chatted with her friend. "Come on over here and sit down," he said to her, motioning to a nearby sofa. "I'm not going to bite you."

For 40 minutes Sheffield unburdened himself. He spoke of failed relationships and his three children by three women, none of whom he had married. He told her of his too-trusting, oft-foolish heart and of his desire to find a closer relationship with God. He told her something was missing in his life, that there had to be more.

"Before I got up," says Richards, "Gary said, 'You're going to be my wife.' "

On Aug. 1 DeLeon Richards-Sheffield was sitting in the seats along the third base line at Pittsburgh's Three Rivers Stadium, picking at a glob of pink cotton candy, the early-afternoon glare reflecting off her sunglasses. The 31-year-old Sheffield was batting, and when he smoked his second double of the day, a sixth-inning liner to leftfield off Pirates lefthander Jimmy Anderson, she stood and clapped softly. Richards-Sheffield is only 23, and despite having been a Grammy Award nominee at age 9 and having six albums to her credit, she's awed by how much her life has changed in such a short time. She knows that Sheffield is a six-time All-Star and a strong candidate for National League MVP, but, until recently, she was confused as to why he didn't run toward third base after hitting the ball. She now knows that his statistics—through Sunday, a .342 batting average (sixth in the league), a league-leading 35 home runs and 89 RBIs that rank fifth in the league—are listed high in the newspapers. But until that February 1998 morning Richards had never even heard of Sheffield. She knew that someday she would be married...but to someone like him?

During the three days they stayed at the Hilton, Richards and Sheffield spotted each other numerous times. They would chat, then move on. On the morning of their respective departures, he asked for her number in Chicago. "I thought he was a nice guy," says Richards, "but it wasn't like, 'Oooh, I've got to have that man.' I certainly didn't think I'd be his wife one day. I figured it was the type of thing when you run into somebody, then you never see him again."

Sheffield flew home to St. Petersburg, Richards to Chicago. According to the Mammals' Rules of Dating Etiquette, it's required that the male wait two full days before calling the female. Sheffield called that night. "He said, 'I'm just checking to make sure you got home safe,' " says Richards. "I'm thinking, This really is a pretty nice guy."

Richards tested him along the way—hard tests that a playa like Sheffield could have easily failed. A few weeks after they met, he invited her to visit him in Viera, Fla., where the Marlins held spring training. Richards hemmed and hawed before agreeing, with one condition: Her mother, Deborah, and Yorkshire terrier, Melody, would also make the trip. "I figured that that would be it," says Richards.