James Conner, Conquering Cancer, and My Personal Connection to His Recovery (By Marcus Mosher)

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Pittsburgh running back James Conner was named the 2014 ACC Player of the Year. His career as a football player seemed promising, and his future as an NFL player a matter of time, not talent. But that all changed after the 2014 season.

By: Marcus Mosher

Conner was diagnosed with stage two Hodgkins lymphoma . After missing the entire 2015 season, Conner vowed to return not only to the football field, but to be back in time for the Pittsburgh Panthers’ home opener versus Villanova.

Conner conquered the cancer, scored two touchdowns in the Panthers win, and became the feel-good story of 2015. Now, he’s decided to forgo his senior year of college to prepare for the NFL draft.

For me, Conner’s story brings back many memories of what I went through with my father, and how the two remain connected to this day. The struggles Conner endured included not only the symptoms of treatment for his disease, but also the social anxiety that comes along with it. These conditions were all very similar to that of my father’s, and their stories became intertwined.

Around Thanksgiving in 2007, he began experiencing excruciating upper back pain from slipping on black ice after one of my basketball games. It wasn’t until Christmas Eve that I realized just how serious his condition was. My Mom wanted to take him to the emergency room, but he assured us that he’d be okay and had no intention of “ruining” Christmas. After the holidays, he was admitted to Saint Vincent hospital in Erie, Pennsylvania and after a battery of tests and scans, my father was diagnosed with a very aggressive form of non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma. I remember the day my parents told me about his condition like it was yesterday. A family friend drove me and my younger siblings to the hospital to see our parents for the first time in about a week. There, my mom, fighting back tears, delivered the grim news to us.

From that day on, my life was changed. We were staying at a family member’s house each night for the next two weeks. My father surprised me by showing up at my high school basketball wearing a surgical mask. He was on his way home from the hospital and he was determined to make it to the Saturday afternoon game.

It was hard to believe, but just a few weeks prior, he was highly involved in athletics, playing competitive volleyball and basketball. Now, he needed the help of my mother just to walk up the bleachers. With his mouth covered by the mask, he struggled to take even one step. The cancer and chemotherapy had zapped him of his energy and he looked like a shell of himself just a couple weeks after the diagnosis.

The connection between my father and James Conner actually comes from a mutual friend, Bob Borsa of Erie. He was a long-time co-worker of my father at a plastics company where they worked side by side for many years. Borsa’s son, Zack, played sports with Conner at McDowell High School in Erie.

After my father’s initial diagnosis in January of 2008, Borsa insisted that my dad get a second opinion and himself set up an appointment with lymphoma specialist, Dr. Stanley Marks of the Hillman Cancer Center in Pittsburgh. Marks is considered one of the top oncologists in the entire country. Seven years later, Conner was also being treated by Marks in Pittsburgh.

Even before my father left the hospital, Bob was adamant that my dad wear a surgical mask at all times to protect himself from viruses and infections that can come from close contact with others. His white blood count dropped so low that even catching a cold or the flu could kill him due to his severely compromised immune system. My dad witnessed this first hand as he watched his younger brother die of pneumonia from the symptoms of chemotherapy in his battle with non-Hodgkin’s lymphoma a few years earlier.

It was tough for him to wear the mask in public. My dad felt like people were staring at him and even avoiding him altogether. But Borsa’s warning about wearing the mask and the dangers of infection stuck in my dad’s head.

Seven years later, Borsa encouraged Conner with my dad’s story and emphasized to him the importance of wearing a surgical mask when he went out. And just like my dad, he hated and was embarrassed by it:

“When I began working out with the team again in January, I had to wear a surgeon’s mask. It was mostly to protect me from catching a cold or the flu from people when my immune system was compromised, but it was weird. And for the first couple of weeks, I would always try to avoid wearing it.”

“I was kind of embarrassed by that mask, to be honest. I didn’t really want to be seen out in public with it on because then people start thinking that you have something contagious, or they don’t want to shake your hand. So it was embarrassing, and I didn’t want to have it on. But with time, I got over that.”

What was once considered an embarrassment, the mask became a sort of badge of honor for Conner. Pitt fans actually wore surgical masks to the football games to show their support.

Chemotherapy is brutal. It makes the body incredibly weak. It so affected my dad that he couldn’t even hold up the phone when family and friends called. He stated that his body felt like it was glued to the couch.

Conner experienced the same type of weakness and sickness. The difference was when Conner returned from his chemo session, he immediately started working out. Running, cutting, jumping. James even continued attending class despite feeling incredibly weak. The chemo had weakened his body, but the workouts kept him mentally strong.

Through all the pain and weakness, Conner and my father each found out approximately six months later via a personal phone call from Dr. Marks: Conner and my father were cancer free.

Not only is he a tremendous person, he’ll be a coveted NFL prospect. Conner was a star defensive end in high school and was recruited by Pittsburgh to play defense. But when he got to Pitt, injuries hit the Panthers hard. Those injuries required him to switch to the running back position and he proceeded to take the ACC by storm.

Conner loves the physicality of football. He was the youngest of four brothers who loved to take advantage of his size and age. He had to learn toughness just to survive in his own family. Now at 6-2, 250 lbs, that physicality and mental toughness is exactly what you want from your running back. He has the heart of a lion. His determination and competitiveness make him an interesting prospect. But the love of the game and the dedication to get back onto the field, despite everything he’s gone through, is what NFL coaches, scouts, and fans are going to love about him.

All odds were against my dad while he was battling late stage lymphoma, but he knew he had reasons to fight. Whether it was attending mine and my brothers’ basketball games or walking my sister down the aisle, my dad was determined to beat the cancer so he could experience these milestones. James Conner’s motivation is and was to be playing in the NFL, but I believe the fighting spirit that you have all seen in Conner this season was the same spirit that my father had nine years ago. James Conner’s fight with cancer and the Borsa family’s encouragement and guidance have ironically linked us together and they will always have a special connection to me and my family.

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