Real Life

I’ve basically worked in athletics since I was 14 years old and started writing stories on Perry Junior High football games for the Perry Daily Journal. Which, by the way, is the smallest daily newspaper in the state of Oklahoma.

So since embarking on a profession that has kept me around sports on an almost daily basis since 1974, I have heard countless players and coaches talk about the “adversity” or “hardship” they or their team had to overcome during a particular game, tournament or season.

I actually never really gave those statements much thought, often times saying to myself that, yeah, those four lost fumbles sure did create a lot of adversity for the Bronchos, or whatever team it might have been.

And then last week I read a blog my good friend Lance Fleming from Abilene Christian wrote about his 8-year-old son, Rex. Here, in part, is what Lance said:

“Let me tell you what adversity is.

“Adversity is an 8-year-old boy finding out on Wednesday that the reason he's been having headaches and nausea is because he has a golf-ball size tumor in the middle of his brain and will undergo a potentially life-altering surgery less than 24 hours later.

“Adversity is that same 8-year-old boy lying in a hospital bed unable to voluntarily move his left arm or leg more than just a little bit while his brain and nerves recover from said surgery.

“Adversity is that 8-year-old boy screaming and crying in pain when physical therapists get him out of bed and begin the process of teaching him to walk again, or sit in a wheelchair because he doesn't yet have the strength to lift his left leg to walk on his own.

“Adversity is that 8-year-old boy throwing his left arm into a sling so it won't hang limp at his side, causing him shooting pain up and down that arm.

“And adversity is the road that 8-year-old boy faces over the coming days, weeks and months as he recovers from the surgery that saved his life, but also altered that life in ways he can't yet comprehend.”

Wow. Pretty powerful stuff. And amazingly eye opening, especially if you’re a parent.

In the world of athletics -- be it the high school, college or professional ranks -- we often get caught up in the games we play, follow or report on. And while it’s certainly okay to participate or watch or work these contests, Rex’s story reminds us that there’s so much more to life than who won what.

When I first wrote this blog on Dec. 9 I reported on Rex's fabulous progress. He was gaining more movement and was moved to the physical therapy floor at Cook Children’s Hospital in Fort Worth that day to begin rigorous treatment to regain full use of his limbs. And then Saturday, I got another update . . . Rex's tumor was finally classified as a Grade III malignant glioma that will have to be treated with both radiation therapy and c​h​e​m​o​t​h​e​r​a​p​y​.

More obstacles for Rex and his family as they prepare to embark on a journey I can't even begin to comprehend.

So the next time you hear an athlete or coach bragging about the “obstacles” they overcame on the field of play, remember Rex Fleming and the many others like him who fight real-life battles every day.

I know I will.