Jerry Kill knew he was headed down a familiar path. Kill,
the Rutgers offensive coordinator, acknowledged as much on a lunchtime walk
around the Scarlet Knights’ football stadium two weeks ago.
“I know I’m sliding a little bit,” Kill said as the path
dipped near the south gate. “I’ll just be honest with you. I’ve got to get back
in a routine or I’m going to be in trouble again.”
Two years ago, Kill left his job as Minnesota’s coach midway
through the season, debilitated by epileptic seizures. Away from the game,
without the 18-hour work days and the daily stress of rebuilding a program, his
health improved. On a low-carb diet, he lost 25 pounds, walked daily and slept
more. He even meditated. More than a year and a half passed without another
seizure.
Until two games into Rutgers’s season.
Kill had a seizure in the Rutgers football office on Sept.
10, the morning after the Scarlet Knights’ home loss to Eastern Michigan. He
played down the severity of the episode, which sent him to the hospital overnight,
and said he wished it had not been made public…
Still, given that his job itself is an occupational hazard —
Kill’s seizures are triggered by a lack of sleep and a high level of stress —
it was worth asking: Should Kill be coaching at all?
Absolutely, Kill says. So does his wife. And perhaps most
important, so does Ash.
“My mother worked her whole life,” Ash said. “My brother
works every day; he drives a truck. I don’t know why coaching is any different.
There’s a lot of people in America who suffer from that disease. It doesn’t
mean they can’t work.”…
The seizure at Rutgers came in a staff meeting, he noted,
and was nothing new. Kill has had several on the field in front of packed
stadiums, and he once endured 16 in three days before a game against Michigan
in 2013. He fights mood swings from the medications he takes (six pills when he
arrives at the office at 6:30 a.m. and six more at night), and last week,
doctors increased the dosage of one of them, hoping to ward off more episodes.
But coaching is what he does — what he is, really — and walking away from it,
he said, was no way to live.
“I didn’t get to go out on my own terms,” Kill said of
leaving Minnesota. “It’s haunted me. The whole thing has. Are you going to let
something take what you love away?”…
Kill never wanted to walk away from the game, either, but he
said he felt that he had to in Minnesota, for the sake of his wife, his family
and his players. “People didn’t realize that three days before that I had been
having seizures every night, and my wife had to sit in a chair and watch me,”
he said. “Does she deserve that? Does the team deserve when I’m coming to
practice after a seizure and I’m half there and half not there?”
Years before the seizures forced him off the sideline, Kill
had part of a kidney removed in 2005 because of Stage IV kidney cancer. Six
days later, he was back on the road recruiting.
The portrait of the bleary-eyed coach who sleeps in the
office is lionized by many in the profession. There is always one more play to
chart, one more video clip to analyze, one more set of tendencies to decipher.
Despite his health problems, Kill still lives by that standard; for 12 years
before leaving Minnesota, he said, he estimated that he slept an average of two
and a half hours a night. The problem is the price that Kill’s body pays for
that regimen…
Millions of people with epilepsy, a neurological disorder
characterized by recurrent seizures, live healthy, normal lives, but coaching
major college football is not a healthy, normal occupation. Stress and fatigue,
both of them factors in seizures, are common. The right balance of medication
and lifestyle can keep them at bay, but as Kill has learned, they cannot prevent
them.
“We all want to watch one more rep, spend 15 more minutes watching
film on an opponent, but you have to trust the process,” Ash said. “When it’s
time to shut it down, shut it down. Jerry is learning to do that.”
In fact, Ash demands it. He wants his coaches out of the
office by 10 p.m. on Sunday, Monday and Tuesday; on Wednesday and Thursday he
wants them out the door after practice. Clearly, Kill did not get the memo.
The slide began during training camp. Too many nights
leaving the office at 1:30 a.m. Too many nights unable to flip off the switch.
“I don’t want to lie — it’s been a struggle,” he said. “When I have time to go
to sleep, I need to get it.”…
If football keeps him alive, though, it is also what puts
his life at risk — if he does not manage his condition. After his most recent
seizure, calls of concern poured in from all over the country. Members of the
Rutgers football staff also increased their efforts to look out for Kill,
insisting that he step away for his daily walk around the stadium. Others
became after-hours hall monitors.
“I have enough marching orders here for an army,” Kill said
with a laugh. The key, as any good coach knows, is following through on the
plan. Kill swears he will. “Hell,” he said, “I got no choice.”
https://www.nytimes.com/2017/09/18/sports/ncaafootball/jerry-kill-rutgers-football.html
Courtesy of a colleague
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