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It’s hard not to be romantic about sports.
Like any relationship, they can provide the highest of highs and the lowest of lows. They can make your heart explode in never-ending joy or spiral into abject darkness in an instant.
Sports can distract you from the frustrations of life and provide a respite from reality that I personally know all too well over these past few months.
As many of you now know, in mid-May – some 80 days ago – I was diagnosed with Multiple Myeloma, a cancer that forms in the plasma of the bloodstream (specifically my white blood cells), and affects about 35,000 people per year in the US (compared to 265K breast cancer cases diagnosed annually).
There is no known cure – just the short-term (and long-term) goal of remission with a chemotherapy and immunotherapy the prescribed course of treatment and intervention.
When I received this diagnoses, our Miami Heat and Florida Panthers had just begun their incredible play-off runs that shone a bright light on South Florida sports. Miami had just won an improbable first-round series against the Milwaukee Bucs and their superstar Giannis Antetokounmpo. This was after besting the Bulls in a win-or-go-home play-in game that at times was a heartstopper for Heat fans. Yet, they prevailed, and set-up a date with the top seed as their reward.
The Panthers had battled back from a 3-1 deficit against the Boston Bruins in the first round, who entered the postseason with the best record in the NHL.
Mind..blown.
And while I lay in a hospital bed for 18 days receiving treatment in a building aptly named Hope Tower at the Miami Cancer Institute, these two teams gave me energy and excitement…and hope.
There was the four overtime game the Panthers won that lasted into the wee hours of the morning that had the nurses station checking on me throughout the game for what they thought was tachycardia. No, it was just pure excitement – nerves – fear – unbridled joy. Nothing to see here.
And since there was a game every night – alternating between either the Heat or the Panthers – to keep me focused and forgetting I was laying in a hospital bed, I felt my body starting to heal. I was lucky enough to watch almost every game with my nephew Taylor who would come over (often sneaking me a great snack to counterbalance the hospital food) and stay until the clock ticked to zero. Meanwhile, the nursing staff would come in, take my vital signs, draw blood and share their own love for the home teams as we gathered around the TV.
And just like that…the Heat ran through the Bucs, then the dreaded Knicks and well, that seven-game, on the road thriller against the Celtics was not for the faint of heart. And barely for those with myeloma.
The surging Panthers took care of the Bruins, the Maple Leafs and the Carolina Hurricanes. And I learned more about hockey than I have in my previous 55 years – and came to appreciate our goalie on ever shot.
These runs meant a trip to the Finals – for both our squads. A championship in sight. And all eyes on South Florida and me finally home to watch and cheer without having my BP, heart rate and temperature taken every 2 hours.
And even though the results for both the Heat and Panthers were not what we hoped and prayed for, I am eternally grateful and fed off their success in my own multi-round battle. I needed the ultimate distraction for those 18 days and boy, did they provide it. They also reminded me that no matter what each of us is going through – we are all going through something in our lives.
So in honor of these past 80 days and my own road to a championship recovery, I offer a heartfelt hank you to our beloved Miami Heat and Florida Panthers for bringing me the silver lining…one goal and one bucket at a time.
Mind…still…blown.
