Wednesday, December 5, 2007
Wednesday, November 14, 2007
Column for Sports Journalism Class
November 4, 2004; 4:45 PM. Michael Etzkorn had thoughts of marriage, school, and soccer all running through his head. His focus was not on how happy his fiancé made him, or getting his degree, or even on how to win more games in his fourth season as head coach at McCutcheon, but rather on how all of those would be affected by his diagnosis of testicular cancer.
“I was scared,” Etzkorn said. “I had just gotten engaged to Michelle, my wife, and I knew that I had had the cancer for a while”
Etzkorn was right. His cancer had reached stage three, the final and most deadly stage. He was in shock and didn’t know what to do. The news left me, a sophomore in high school at the time, and the rest of the soccer team in disbelief. None of us knew how to react to the news.
“I could do nothing,” Brian Howard, a fellow sophomore at the time, recalled. “And I felt useless.”
We all felt useless. This man, although only in his mid twenties at the time, was a father figure to many of us, me especially. I’ll never forget the tears I shed walking away from the room in which Etzkorn had revealed his condition. Some stayed to talk to Mike, but most of us left not knowing what to say.
Etzkorn, himself, was having many problems coping with his cancer, as one might understand. “Sometimes I wanted to give up, but I knew I couldn’t. Many coaches talk about do or die situations, and this was quite literally do or die. It was hard to keep positive, but by keeping everyone informed on my condition by email and getting positive feedback from everyone, I was able to persevere.”
Although Etzkorn reached out to all of us, players and parents alike, we all kept our distance. Most of us did not know what to say to him. It was probably for the best. Etzkorn recalls it was a “weird time” and that “having people not talking to [him] wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
The thing that kept him going was something that he calls “the best gift [he’s] ever received.” Some members from his team, including his soon-to-be step-son, senior Jerum Markley, shaved their heads to let Mike know that they were fighting cancer with him. Markley, Howard, Brandon and Brooks Griswold, Nathaniel Chitty, Sean Fitzsimons, Tony Starks and I all took part in this.
An article in the Journal and Courier followed, but that wasn’t what Etzkorn cared about. “The picture that was taken, Jerum gave to me as a Christmas present. The article was after the fact. The present was very touching. That's a big thing for a high school kid to give up his hair. It very much made me proud to know that you guys would go that road. The article itself wasn't that big of a deal. I was more just proud that it happened.”
From that point on Etzkorn fought for life while we trained for the following season not knowing what was going to happen or who was going to coach us. Michael Starks, the assistant coach for the two years I had been at McCutcheon, took over and coached through the first half of the season before we finally received the news that Etzkorn would be back on the field for arguably the biggest game of the season. It was the Harrison game, our rival.
We were ecstatic. “I was very excited that he was back,” fellow sophomore at the time, Kyle Schaffer, remembered. “And it gave me a chance to prove to him that I was working hard even though he worked ten times harder fighting for his life. I felt the team was finally complete.”
Etzkorn was able to come back after having lengthy chemotherapy and some surgeries. He was finally in remission. One of the surgeries, however, cost him his booming voice. When removing a tumor from his chest was removed, his vocal chords were damaged, and made his voice weak. As a result, he had to use a megaphone during games and practices to make sure he was heard. He wasn’t the same coach, but some Etzkorn was better than no Etzkorn.
Although our play was inspired, it was very sloppy, and we dropped the game 8-1. Mike was back, though, and we couldn’t have been happier.
Etzkorn was not so pleased, however, stating that the megaphone was “extremely frustrating,” because it slowed down the process of instruction. It also “shook [his] confidence” a little bit. He didn’t feel like himself. “In the games I was full of confidence and felt like I never left, but in practices I felt so disconnected. I had missed a lot, and was afraid I would lose discipline.”
This soccer season is the first one he has gone completely without the megaphone and Etzkorn is more than happy to be yelling instructions with confidence and his own voice, rather than a machine‘s.
He is a continuing inspiration to the team and everyone that knows him, not only in soccer, but in life.
“It changed my outlook on life,” Schaffer stated. “He never gave up in his fight and because of that I learned to never give up on the field or off because there are worse things than math problems and conditioning.”
Etzkorn is a changed man as well. “I don’t know how I am different, but I can just feel it. Some things just aren’t the same. I don’t tolerate negativity anymore, that’s for sure. Life’s too short for that. When I was diagnosed I really learned to appreciate life, and I decided I’m going to enjoy life, and I’m not giving it up without a fight.”
To date, Etzkorn is still cancer free, and has been for over two years. He is a true inspiration to us all. His battle taught me many life lessons, like never giving up. He is more than just a coach. He is my mentor. He is a father figure. He is my friend. And every conversation between us will always end the same way, never knowing where life will lead us.
“I love you Cameron.”
“I love you too Etz.”
“I was scared,” Etzkorn said. “I had just gotten engaged to Michelle, my wife, and I knew that I had had the cancer for a while”
Etzkorn was right. His cancer had reached stage three, the final and most deadly stage. He was in shock and didn’t know what to do. The news left me, a sophomore in high school at the time, and the rest of the soccer team in disbelief. None of us knew how to react to the news.
“I could do nothing,” Brian Howard, a fellow sophomore at the time, recalled. “And I felt useless.”
We all felt useless. This man, although only in his mid twenties at the time, was a father figure to many of us, me especially. I’ll never forget the tears I shed walking away from the room in which Etzkorn had revealed his condition. Some stayed to talk to Mike, but most of us left not knowing what to say.
Etzkorn, himself, was having many problems coping with his cancer, as one might understand. “Sometimes I wanted to give up, but I knew I couldn’t. Many coaches talk about do or die situations, and this was quite literally do or die. It was hard to keep positive, but by keeping everyone informed on my condition by email and getting positive feedback from everyone, I was able to persevere.”
Although Etzkorn reached out to all of us, players and parents alike, we all kept our distance. Most of us did not know what to say to him. It was probably for the best. Etzkorn recalls it was a “weird time” and that “having people not talking to [him] wasn’t necessarily a bad thing.”
The thing that kept him going was something that he calls “the best gift [he’s] ever received.” Some members from his team, including his soon-to-be step-son, senior Jerum Markley, shaved their heads to let Mike know that they were fighting cancer with him. Markley, Howard, Brandon and Brooks Griswold, Nathaniel Chitty, Sean Fitzsimons, Tony Starks and I all took part in this.
An article in the Journal and Courier followed, but that wasn’t what Etzkorn cared about. “The picture that was taken, Jerum gave to me as a Christmas present. The article was after the fact. The present was very touching. That's a big thing for a high school kid to give up his hair. It very much made me proud to know that you guys would go that road. The article itself wasn't that big of a deal. I was more just proud that it happened.”
From that point on Etzkorn fought for life while we trained for the following season not knowing what was going to happen or who was going to coach us. Michael Starks, the assistant coach for the two years I had been at McCutcheon, took over and coached through the first half of the season before we finally received the news that Etzkorn would be back on the field for arguably the biggest game of the season. It was the Harrison game, our rival.
We were ecstatic. “I was very excited that he was back,” fellow sophomore at the time, Kyle Schaffer, remembered. “And it gave me a chance to prove to him that I was working hard even though he worked ten times harder fighting for his life. I felt the team was finally complete.”
Etzkorn was able to come back after having lengthy chemotherapy and some surgeries. He was finally in remission. One of the surgeries, however, cost him his booming voice. When removing a tumor from his chest was removed, his vocal chords were damaged, and made his voice weak. As a result, he had to use a megaphone during games and practices to make sure he was heard. He wasn’t the same coach, but some Etzkorn was better than no Etzkorn.
Although our play was inspired, it was very sloppy, and we dropped the game 8-1. Mike was back, though, and we couldn’t have been happier.
Etzkorn was not so pleased, however, stating that the megaphone was “extremely frustrating,” because it slowed down the process of instruction. It also “shook [his] confidence” a little bit. He didn’t feel like himself. “In the games I was full of confidence and felt like I never left, but in practices I felt so disconnected. I had missed a lot, and was afraid I would lose discipline.”
This soccer season is the first one he has gone completely without the megaphone and Etzkorn is more than happy to be yelling instructions with confidence and his own voice, rather than a machine‘s.
He is a continuing inspiration to the team and everyone that knows him, not only in soccer, but in life.
“It changed my outlook on life,” Schaffer stated. “He never gave up in his fight and because of that I learned to never give up on the field or off because there are worse things than math problems and conditioning.”
Etzkorn is a changed man as well. “I don’t know how I am different, but I can just feel it. Some things just aren’t the same. I don’t tolerate negativity anymore, that’s for sure. Life’s too short for that. When I was diagnosed I really learned to appreciate life, and I decided I’m going to enjoy life, and I’m not giving it up without a fight.”
To date, Etzkorn is still cancer free, and has been for over two years. He is a true inspiration to us all. His battle taught me many life lessons, like never giving up. He is more than just a coach. He is my mentor. He is a father figure. He is my friend. And every conversation between us will always end the same way, never knowing where life will lead us.
“I love you Cameron.”
“I love you too Etz.”
Wednesday, October 10, 2007
Thursday, September 13, 2007
Oden and Conley: Pro
They say that for every right there is a wrong, for every pro a con, so that must be reciprocated... right? Right! Although Oden and Conley were only in the NCAA long enough to give us a simple glimpse of what could have been, there was definitely a positive side to Oden going to college... for Conley. Let's face it. Oden was already the number one overall pick before he even set foot on the court for the Buckeyes. Conley, on the other hand, would have been a mid-second round pick at best had he bypassed Ohio State for the NBA.
Conley's year at Ohio St., with Oden's ever-lingering presence being known, helped him show off his quickness and passing ability. With a dominate big man in the post, although he wasn't much of a scorer, there was much less attention being payed to Conley and the rest of the team than there would have been otherwise. When you have a beast like Oden in the paint, that frees up the entire team. Jump-shooters will have more room to fire, point guards will have more room to penetrate and kick out, and a simple pump-fake while your man runs at you from Oden can send the defender into the stands. Conley broke the freshman Big Ten record for assists per game and assists in a season because of Oden's presence. This greatly raised Conley's stock, draft pick chosen, and his pay. What else could a guy ask for?
Conley's year at Ohio St., with Oden's ever-lingering presence being known, helped him show off his quickness and passing ability. With a dominate big man in the post, although he wasn't much of a scorer, there was much less attention being payed to Conley and the rest of the team than there would have been otherwise. When you have a beast like Oden in the paint, that frees up the entire team. Jump-shooters will have more room to fire, point guards will have more room to penetrate and kick out, and a simple pump-fake while your man runs at you from Oden can send the defender into the stands. Conley broke the freshman Big Ten record for assists per game and assists in a season because of Oden's presence. This greatly raised Conley's stock, draft pick chosen, and his pay. What else could a guy ask for?
Thursday, September 6, 2007
Oden and Conley: Con
In this post, I will raise my first argument AGAINST the rule that forces basketball players to participate in at least one year of collegiate basketball. The rule has only been in effect for one season thus far. There were many players that would have gone pro that did not get the chance to do that. Instead, they were shipped off to college where THEY KNEW as well as we did, that they were one and done.
Obviously Oden was going to leave Ohio State after his freshman year. He was the best big man in the NCAA last year defensively and held his own on the offensive end. Part of my problem here is that everyone knew Oden was going pro as soon as possible by the time he was 15. I don't know anyone that actually believed he was going to stay at Ohio State for his sophomore season. The only thing that Oden did for himself in the NCAA was exactly what everyone thought he would do... lead his team to the NCAA finals. His draft status did not change as a result of his only season with the Buckeyes. He didn't have a revelation and suddenly decide to stay in college to get his degree. Why force him to go there?
Obviously Oden was going to leave Ohio State after his freshman year. He was the best big man in the NCAA last year defensively and held his own on the offensive end. Part of my problem here is that everyone knew Oden was going pro as soon as possible by the time he was 15. I don't know anyone that actually believed he was going to stay at Ohio State for his sophomore season. The only thing that Oden did for himself in the NCAA was exactly what everyone thought he would do... lead his team to the NCAA finals. His draft status did not change as a result of his only season with the Buckeyes. He didn't have a revelation and suddenly decide to stay in college to get his degree. Why force him to go there?
Monday, September 3, 2007
What this blog will be about
As many of you know, there was a rule passed a couple years ago that prevented high school basketball players from making the jump straight to pro basketball. Many parents, college coaches, and NBA employees saw this as a positive step in the transition from high school to professional basketball. I believe, however, that like any rule, it has its pros and cons. It is in no way, shape or form foolproof or perfect. Throughout the duration of this blog I will use examples from the first year of the rule being in effect as well as hypothetical situations to prove my point. I hope everyone enjoys reading this, and maybe I'll persuade a few people while I'm at it. Until next time, make sure to watch plenty of ESPN, endulge yourself in a Sports Illustrated and find your way to various sports websites.
Cam
Cam
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