Every sports journalist loves a good human interest story.
We love the opportunity to tell the kinds of stories that remind readers that athletes are human. They aren’t robots programmed with athletic superpowers to merely do our bidding for the sake of our entertainment.
They are, in every way, just as touched, impacted and affected by the dregs of humanity as the rest of us who don’t share their spotlight.
I believe it’s easy to forget that when we spend so much time ogling their every move on the court or on the field. And the better they are, the more detached from the rest of us they feel. Because they’re excelling at levels few of us have the ability to reach on stages that many of us could only dream of, we often treat them like superhuman, inanimate objects.
We talk about them on social media as if they aren’t “in the room,” with access to see every harsh, cruel or myopically unrealistic comment we make about them. So, that’s why good sports journalists have learned to tell stories that de-emphasize their statistical lore in order to help us remember that they’re cut from much of the same cloth as we are.
But there’s one human interest story I’m starting to get weary of telling — that’s the story of young athletes toeing the line that separates them from life and death due to a variety of heart conditions.
Bronny James was our latest reminder that athletic prowess, good genes, bright futures and even fame can’t protect a person from things that have the potential to negatively impact us all.
Bronny is the eldest son of future NBA Hall-of-Famer LeBron James. He’s also a 5-star point guard prospect who recently committed to the University of Southern California to play college basketball. Most pundits forecasted him to play one year and then head to the NBA to join his famous father.
But some of those plans came to a halt — at least temporarily — when the younger James went into cardiac arrest last week during a team workout.
It was shocking news because we’re talking about an athlete who’s probably in peak physical condition. You’re also looking at one who’s garnered national headlines both for his play on the court and his father’s ever-increasing legacy both on and off the court.
Truth is, though, none of us should be too surprised.
According to the Mayo Clinic Health System, sudden cardiac arrest is the leading cause of death in young athletes, and is “often caused by faulty electrical signaling in the heart.” Though it’s not something that happens every day with athletes, it does rear its head too frequently to not rule it out as a legit concern.
It’s also not a new phenomenon.
Some of you are old enough to remember Hank Gathers, the Loyola Marymount basketball star who died because of a heart condition during a basketball game back in 1990.
Three years later, Boston Celtics forward Reggie Lewis collapsed and died from a similar condition. And, of course, the world watched recently when Buffalo Bills safety Damar Hamlin fell to the turf after he took a heart-stopping blow to the chest.
Thankfully, Hamlin was blessed enough to return back to action. So too was another young athlete — one much closer to home.
Thomson quarterback and basketball point guard Jahkiaus Jones collapsed on the floor back in March 2021 during an AAU basketball game. His heart stopped twice before he was revived for good after being rushed to the hospital. Jones had to have an implantable cardioverter defibrillator (ICD) installed into his chest to help him keep track of his heart rate. The ICD shocks his heart back to normal rhythms once an irregularity is detected.
As a result, Jones missed the 2021 football season, though he was able to play basketball again that year. In 2022, he was cleared to play football again, and he made the most of that opportunity by joining forces with Noah Story to help quarterback the Bulldogs to a Class AA state championship. Not long ago, Jones received a scholarship offer to continue his basketball career in college.
One of his teammates wasn’t as fortunate.
Just last week, I wrote a story detailing Thomson football player Jaquan Hart’s irregular heartbeat condition that caused him to have to renege on his college football dreams. Sure, he’s glad to be alive and well, but the prospect of never playing football again has been a hard pill for the young man to swallow. It’s also inspired the 2023 Thomson graduate to go into coaching to help other football players plan for the possibility that their careers could be cut short one day, unexpectedly.
As for Bronny, we don’t know what his future holds. He’s shown great signs of recovery. But, according to a dailymail.co.uk article, Bronny and his family are “considering postponing his first semester of classes” and basketball at USC as he continues to heal, no doubt emotionally and mentally as well as physically.
I had the chance to watch Bronny play up close and personal when I covered the Peach Jam last year. At first, when you see a ballyhooed athlete like him in close proximity, it feels a bit surreal. Of course, Bronny playing at the Peach Jam brought his globally famous father to North Augusta as well.
I don’t get star struck easily — and I wasn’t then. But I’d be lying if I told you I didn’t feel a couple of flutters in my belly being that close to a nationally renowned talent and his world-famous, face-of-the-NBA dad.
But when the news of Bronny’s cardiac arrest hit, I didn’t see either of them as basketball players. I didn’t think about Bronny as a budding star. I didn’t consider LeBron as an NBA legend. I thought of him as a father — of Bronny as simply his namesake son.
I thought about that twinge of nervousness that hits me every time I watch my son step into the taekwondo ring to compete, both at home and abroad. He’s very skilled. He knows what he’s doing. And so far, he’s been blessed with great health. But I’ve seen others go down with concussions, broken limbs and other injuries that put a halt to their athletic aspirations, sometimes permanently. And I know in my heart that there’s nothing about my son that says it couldn’t one day happen to him.
When it happens to others, I never see an athlete or an athlete’s parents. I see two humans — one in a state of great — perhaps life threatening — vulnerability and a mom and/or dad who doesn’t give a flip about athletic accolades in that moment. They just want their child to be okay.
The missed shots. The dropped passes. The fumbles, interceptions, the lost matches — all the mistakes that happen on the field of competition mean nothing when that young athlete suddenly becomes a human being just trying to survive.
I suppose these won’t be the last stories we read or tell about athletes battling through some of the same stuff the rest of us have to fight. My only hope is that we’ll come to a place as a sports-loving society where we won’t have to witness tragedy to be reminded that athletes are human too.
Gabriel Stovall is sports editor for The Augusta Press. You can contact him at Gabriel@theaugustapress.com. Follow him on X (formerly known as Twitter): @GabrielCStovall.
