Every college student faces obstacles—balancing work, school, and free time can be a challenge, as can making sure you get your textbooks on time, or avoiding the ubiquitous threat of parking tickets.  The obstacles can be even more numerous for student-athletes, especially those dedicated players at the club level, who pay their way through school and help support their team, as well.  Long Beach State Ice Hockey’s Colin Hurt is one of those players—but the obstacles he’s faced at school, or on the ice with his team, weren’t really any obstacle at all to him.

Last fall, as Colin was preparing to start his fall semester at Long Beach State, his mother Cheryl noticed a lump in her breast.  “I went to my OB/GYN for my yearly checkup,” says Cheryl, “and I asked him to check me out.  It didn’t show on the mammogram, it didn’t show in an ultrasound—I pushed hard and got an MRI, and there it was.”  On September 5^th, 2008, Cheryl was diagnosed with breast cancer.

“When I first found out,” Colin says, “It was really hard.  But everyone has really come together, my grandparents, my aunt—and my mom is just really strong, so you couldn’t have had a better situation.”

When Colin says strong, that’s not just a proud son—Cheryl had six chemo treatments between her diagnosis and the end of January, but despite having nearly two years of sick time saved up, the only days of work she missed were the ones she had to take off for her chemo appointments.  Cheryl works as a Spanish teacher at Marina High School, where she’s won the school’s award for Best Foreign Language Teacher the last two years.  “I don’t know, it could just be my constitution, my personality,” says Cheryl, who’s been teaching for 36 years.  “There have been days when I’ve been really slow, but my students give me a lot of energy.”

That energy spilled over into emotion on Friday, December 12^th, the night that Colin’s 49ers hosted the USC Trojans.  It was also the night of the team’s first Pink Jersey Auction—all the players wore black-and-pink jerseys, which were auctioned off and given away after the game as a way to raise money.  All told, the team brought in almost $2,500 for the American Cancer Society.  One jersey, though, was not up for auction—Colin’s. 

“After the game,” remembers Colin’s father, Kevin, “it was unbelievable—we were sitting up in the stands and Colin’s waving and yelling, ‘Come out on the ice!’  He presented her with his jersey and the announcer told us after that he broke up while he was trying to announce what was going on.”

“I was totally blown away,” says Cheryl.  “I didn’t know that I was going to be involved at all—just totally embarrassed, and excited, and happy, all of those things.”  The jersey is still hanging in her closet, because Cheryl says she uses it, and wears it to school.  “I’m advertising Long Beach and hockey and an awareness for breast cancer—when people ask, ‘Why the pink on there?’ I tell them why.” 

Colin says it took longer for the emotion to catch up with him, but that he really felt it back in the locker room.  “When you get in there and you see your teammates that never really knew about it—they’re just your hockey buddies you don’t have a lot of intimate conversations with—and they’re coming up and being so supportive about it…it’s really emotional.”

Right now, the outlook is good, and the chemo seems to be working—Cheryl says her tumor had reduced in size by more than half, a benchmark that’s made her oncologist very happy.  Her husband says women could learn a lot from Cheryl’s experience: “Just be proactive, because she wouldn’t even know she had breast cancer right now if she hadn’t pushed and pushed [for additional tests].”

Colin himself has learned plenty from watching his mother’s strength and positivity through her diagnosis and treatment.  “I approach life differently now.  My first practice back [after hearing the diagnosis] was the hardest because I was so down about my mom—I was ready to go up to coach and ask to take the day off, but I thought, if I did that it would just be like giving up.  It would be the wrong message to give to my mom and to myself.”

Colin sees things differently now—imagine trying to take a day or two off school when your mother went through a chemo treatment, and was back in the classroom the next day.  “If she can deal with this, I can deal with anything,” says Colin.  “Sports, or working out, or any little challenge now is so small compared to what my mom has dealt with—something that could, literally, potentially kill you…everything’s different now.  It’s on a whole different level.”  With the way they’ve come together, supported each other, and learned from Cheryl’s experience, the whole Hurt family is on another level now.