Tampa, Florida					Thursday, September 09, 2010

What Winning Really Means
Tuesday, June 15, 2004
TAMPA—Brad Richards invited a bunch of his close buddies to share his early assigned time with The Stanley Cup. The buddies are kids fighting cancer, those who have crosschecked the malady forever, and the families of victims. It was held at a neat kids hangout named Game Works in Ybor City, part of Tampa’s old Spanish District. The celebration of life over cancer and the 2-1 seventh game nail-biter win over Calgary for the grand old piece of silverware and history at Game Works meant the victory lunch buffet of pizza and soft drinks (what else?) was carried out a tad over a mile form the home ice of the Lightning. There to join with Richards with this special group was his buddy on ice and for life, Martin St. Louis, and Lightning Coach John Tortorella. St. Louis won the most valuable player of the year and season scoring awards of the National Hockey League while Richards was the MVP in the Stanley Cup playoffs. Tortorella was the NFL’s Coach of the year. So, in tribute to the kids and their moms and dads and to Richards on behalf of Rich’s Rascals, those centerpieces of the Lightning were there for two hours signing autographs and having their photographs taken with the whomever was chosen, surrounding, of course, The Stanley Cup—then attacking the pizza, soft drinks, candy and ice cream served up by the cooperating owners of Game Works, represented this fine day by Pete Scalig and David Ginsberg, Mike Ramirez, Ryan Amos, Roman Rodriquez and Jon Webster. It was fun and it was loud and it was wonderful. It provided a good look at the best side of athletes who chose to such roles and work at it. Richards, St. Louis, Tortorella and most of the Lightning’s entourage take that high road, and mean it. Richards, only 24, a native of Prince Edward Island and a fishing village there, lost a cousin, Jamie, who was eight years of age, to cancer. He has never forgotten. What he does has not been a game-only proposition. He holds his cancer kids and their families close to him. Alternately, they have an opportunity to sit in a suite he has leased at the St. Petersburg Forum, home of the Lightning, and top entertainment venue. He also has the suite leased for “family events, musical and/or comedy,’’ said Bill Wickett, public relations director of the hockey team. “The kids love him and he loves them, and their families. He will pick up the phone and call, just to talk to them,’’ added, Merle Trichon, Richards associate. And that’s just what this fine young man, and his pal, Martin, and coach Torts, were doing at this Stanley Cup party he planned for them, and a few invited others, with the help of the Pediatric Childrens’ Cancers and the Pediatric Cancer Foundation, of which Barb Renold is the spokesman. The kids came in all shapes and sizes and ages and state of health. All were upbeat, or seemed to be. All wore something with a Lightning insignia and a Richards autograph. Some were in wheelchairs. Some were clearly under treatment. Some did not seem to be. In a chair became of so much time in bed and not yet ready for full responsibility for mobility, was a handsome 10-year-old named Daniel Frydrych. He was there with his mom, Holly Wade. His stepdad is Capt, Bill Wade of Tampa Rescue, who knows about pain from all directions. Daniel has had just a terrible time against a ferocious cancer. It began only last August, with headaches and what was thought to be from the inner ear. It was not.
	Scans saw a malignancy the size of a fist working in his brain. “It was three days from diagnosis to surgery,’’ said his mom. “He has had some bad times. He was very sick. He was in All-Children’s Hospital, in bed, for over four months. He took radiation daily for three months, then chemo.’’ There now is progress. “What color was your hair, Daniel?’’ “Black,’’ managed, softball. No, no, pumpkin,’’ his mama said, “your hair was never black.’’ “Brown,’’ he corrected, winching a bid and then a shudder came. Mama Holly moved him out of a slight draft. “Your head itch?’’ I asked. He was rubbing it, with his Lightning jersey pulled up for that. He nodded. “Want me to rub it?’’ He nodded, and I did for a while. Later, Richards would do it, better I am sure. The good news lately was Daniel was finally allowed to go to a Lightning game. He was not judged to be up to it, until then. He nodded when asked if the Lightning won. They had, against the Flyers, no less. Yes, made him feel better. Daniel, his mom said, is better and should in August get back to school, the Sam Rampello Downtown Partnership School. He likes that. All in that family and Daniel’s extended family do. Nearby to Daniel was a fine looking 14-year-old black haired girl, Chelsea Pajak, and her sister, Jessica, and mother, Nicole. Her dad is Frank Pajak, in classified advertising with The Tampa Tribune. Three years ago, Chelsea was playing soccer for the St. Pete Raiders, and well. She was a forward and loving it, until she came home ill. There was nausea, weakness. The blood test, her mother said, did it. It turned up acute lymphoblastic leukemia. She was quickly hospitalized and the treatments began with Dr. Jerry Barbosa, she said, and his firm of doctors, as Daniel before here had said earlier this day. The treatment has worked. It put her in remission. She’s back playing soccer in at St. Pete Catholic. She’s a happy camper now. That was clear. Indeed, at this wonderful buffet in Ybor for Brad’s Rascals, well, it was an upbeat time for all there, the survivors, the families, the hospital and medical folk, Brad and his Lightning pals, all of us there on the sidelines. A particularly fine moment came late, when Brad’s Rascals surprised their foster father with a Lightning jersey, No. 19, with Richards on the back. Oh, and it was autographed not the star, but by his stars, the rascals, the Brad’s Rascals. ##
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