Coach Hodges-
Thank you for believing in me to coach the 2001 Metro Classic and for providing an inspiration when I was growing up and struggling with having a father as a head coach. Aaron and you provided a solid model of what a father/son coaching relationship in this sport should be like.
You are in our prayers and thoughts.
-Eric DeYoe
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Wed, Apr. 28, 2004
"Dealing with a twist of fate"
Now early in retirement, former KC Harmon coach Hodges battles leukemia
By DEREK SAMSON The Kansas City Star
Cathy Hodges began her e-mail to 80 or so friends Tuesday with some harrowing words about her husband.
“This is a very difficult update to write. Troy is very, very sick!”
She later added, “He has tubes coming out of everywhere and monitors in between spaces. He cannot talk and is being given nourishment through a tube.”
No way. Not Troy Hodges. The former Harmon High School football and wrestling coach never slowed for a second after retiring in 2001. He built garages and fences and flower beds. He played farmer in a 1,000-square-foot garden, went on hunting trips to South Dakota, fishing trips to Canada and, of course, squeezed in time for poker at the boats.
Then Hodges, 58, learned last December he had leukemia. Instead of being elbow-deep in garden soil, he must stay out of the sun. Instead of his annual May fishing trip to Canada, he'll be in Houston for a bone-marrow transplant. Instead of enjoying retired life, he's fighting to stay alive.
“Yeah, I'm a little bit (nervous),” Hodges said a week ago. “Doctors are pretty honest. They told me I had a 25-percent chance of striking out.”
The most recent setback happened late last week when he contracted what is suspected to be a bacterial infection. He went back into the hospital over the weekend and moved to the intensive-care unit Monday.
As if Hodges hadn't gone through enough already. A central-line IV with three ports has been stuck in his chest since December, and he takes medication through the IV for 75 minutes each morning. Sores cover his arms and legs, and his hair is gone. There have been blood transfusions, chemotherapy, dangerous fevers and a wicked fungus. And doctors told him the worst likely lurks ahead.
That was plenty to ponder while he was stuck inside on a gorgeous spring day one week ago today. Waldo, his 13-year-old cocker spaniel, snored by his bare feet and the ceiling fan clicked above him.
So quiet for a man used to so much activity.
“I think my dad deserves not to be sick,” said Nicole Hodges, 29, the younger of Troy's two children. “The illness has been hard to watch.”
Hodges was upbeat. The leukemia currently is in remission, but Hodges can't count on it staying that way. That's why he agreed to the risky transplant.
Hey, this is a math teacher. When the doctor gave him that 25-percent failure statistic, Hodges immediately translated it to a 75-percent chance of surviving. A gambler takes those odds any day.
“I play a lot of poker,” he said. “I'm a strong believer in odds. I'm approaching it like I'm gonna beat it.”
***
Last September — Hodges' second autumn since calling it quits — he noticed sores on his arm. They wouldn't heal. He also felt more fatigued, especially during a pheasant-hunting trip in November.
After tests and more tests, he was diagnosed with acute myelomonocytic leukemia on Dec. 8. Doctors told him to report to the Cancer Institute at St. Luke's the next day and to “bring clothes.” He'd be hospitalized the rest of December, undergoing chemotherapy for a week. There have been more than 15 blood transfusions, 18 platelet transfusions, five cycles of chemo and 50 nights in the hospital.
Leukemia has been just part of his troubles. Because the leukemia left him without enough white blood cells to fight infection, he contracted Aspergillus fungus. The fungus, which travels through the air, doesn't affect people with normal immune systems. That's what the IV treats.
“But he hasn't spent one minute saying, ‘Why me,' ” Cathy said.
Cathy became his caregiver and enforcer. She makes sure he takes the medication, stays out of the sun and doesn't wear down. Cathy, who met Troy when they were math students at Emporia State, missed five events of his 33-year coaching career. She cooked dinner for players and opposing coaches, and let assistant coaches live in their house.
“Troy always allowed me to be part of his coaching and included me in everything he's done,” she said. “We've approached our lives as a team and that's how we're approaching this. We're fighting this together.”
***
America Patton admits his “life was headed in the wrong direction” early in high school at Harmon. One day, Hodges pulled him aside after practice and told him he could be a college graduate.
A college graduate? Patton never even considered going to college.
“He told me, ‘You have the ability to make a difference. You have to get your act together,' ” Patton said. “From that moment on, everything changed. It woke me up.”
Hodges nailed it. Patton played football and ran track at McPherson College. It was tough early on, and Patton called Hodges every time he thought about quitting. Patton still calls his former coach every other week. Only now, Hodges is the one struggling.
“He was the only thing I had growing up,” Patton said, choking up on the phone. “How he helped me out, I want to help somebody else out.”
On May 23, Patton is scheduled to graduate with an education degree. He plans to be a teacher and coach.
***
Hodges' den is loaded with plaques, trophies, game balls and photos. He had quite a career. It began in 1969 as an assistant football and wrestling coach at Osawatomie. He took over the wrestling program in 1972 and became head football coach in 1975. Two years later, he went to Harmon as the head football and wrestling coach.
Hodges, who started the Missouri-Kansas Metro Classic wrestling dual, was inducted into the Kansas Wrestling Coaches Association Hall of Fame in 2001. He went 227-122 in wrestling duals with nine state champions. He coached his son, Aaron, to a pair of state titles. In football, he won 111 games as a head coach.
“The friendships you gain and the things you teach the young kids far outweigh the wins and losses,” Hodges said. “The wins are nice. But the most important thing is to have good friends.”
Hodges disappeared into another room and came back wearing a purple camouflage hat that would keep the sun off his face. He sported a special, long-sleeve shirt that completely blocks the sun and a mask that protects him from bacteria in the air.
“C'mon out,” he said, opening the back door.
Cathy rolled her eyes. This time, the enforcer let him go.
The outdoor tour didn't last long. Hodges needed to take a seat inside his new garage. He gazed at the fishing boat, which was supposed to cruise a Canadian lake in May. It would have been his 28th annual Canadian fishing trip. But he'll be in Houston receiving the bone-marrow transplant from his 66-year-old brother, Garold, who lives in Wichita.
Hodges realizes the danger of the procedure and the potential infections that can follow the transplant. He believes the risk is better than sitting back and hoping the leukemia stays in remission.
“The only part that bothers me is with some cases, it can be very debilitating — lose sight, lose use of your legs,” he said. “That worries me because I don't want to be a burden to other people.”
He looked back at the fishing boat again.
Next year, he said.
“With his attitude,” said fishing buddy and former Harmon athletic director Chester Pittman, who'd rather retire his fishing pole than take the trip without Hodges, “if he thinks he can whip it, I believe he can whip it.”
***
At 3:30 p.m. Tuesday, Cathy ended her mass e-mail with this:
“I know you have been praying for us for months, but we could really use the big guns now. Thanks for that and so much more.”
