I grew up in an era in which grown men did not go to professional sporting events wearing replica jerseys. I can’t imagine my dad, when he and Mom were Phillies season ticket holders, wearing a Robin Roberts jersey to a game.
So, even though I live and die with the Nits, I don’t wear a whole lot of Penn State gear.
“Live and die”? Well, not literally, of course.
Literally “live and die” was this past spring, on Final Four Saturday, when I developed symptoms of Guillain-Barre syndrome. Within 36 hours, I was being kept alive by a respirator.
I spent much of the next two weeks unable to breathe, move or eat, unable to communicate without a close friend or family member trying to suss out whether my right eyelid was twitching one of our faux Morse codes, or whether it had even moved it at all.
At the same time, the Penn State basketball staff and team were reeling from a crushingly disappointing season, some key players were bailing out, and fans were demanding (and actually hoping) that the coaches lose their jobs.
In the midst of all that, Brian Seigrist, Ed DeChellis, someone on PennStateHoops.com named therealtruth and the usual cast of characters (UncleLar, nyline, Cappy and too many to mention here) were putting together care packages that made their way into my intensive care unit, and my fogged, anxiety-ridden consciouness at Maine Medical Center.
And with two tubes in my nose, one big one down my throat, and IVs and ports in arms and shoulders, people could still see that I was actually smiling.
I knew even then that I would never be able to repay all those folks by providing them the joy that they gave me that day, and during that time.
But one of the things you learn in situations like that is that you can’t do it all, and some things are out of your control.
Today, the Universe has given Coach DeChellis, Brian Seigrist, therealtruth and her son and all my good buddies on PennStateHoops.com a fleeting moment of pure joy.
So today I wear the shirt that came along with the coach’s handwritten note, and hope the Universe has paid them back for me.
— Tim Beidel