This is an opinion column.<\/p>\n
\u201cHow does that make you feel?\u201d<\/p>\n
Yes, my wife went there. Someone I\u2019d known for more than half my life, someone I covered during my days as a sportswriter had died. Of prostate cancer.<\/p>\n
The same disease I was diagnosed with in July<\/a>.<\/p>\n Longtime NBA fans\u2019 hearts sank upon hearing Michael Ray Richardson<\/a> died last month, losing a horrible battle with the disease. <\/p>\n Mine sank, too. Richardson played for the New Jersey Nets and the New York Knicks during the 1980s, when I covered those teams for The New York Times<\/a>.<\/p>\n He died at 70; I\u2019ll be 70 in March. My wife didn\u2019t know Michael Ray from Michael Jackson. I was her concern.<\/p>\n \u201cHow does that make you feel?\u201d<\/p>\n I didn\u2019t quite yet know.<\/p>\n Richardson \u2014 \u201cSugar Ray,\u201d to many \u2014 was a character. He was a dynamic, dominating player, a four-time All-Star who was magic before Magic. He was a 6-foot-5 point guard who passed, scored, rebounded and played demonizing defense a few years before 6-foot-9 Earvin \u201cMagic\u201d Johnson arrived and introduced a new generation to the \u201cbig\u201d point guard with a windmill of skills.<\/p>\n Like Johnson, Richardson was the spark in any room. He possessed a child\u2019s innocence and a wry humor that was unimpeded by a speech impediment. Indeed, it made you listen to Michael Ray.<\/p>\n I was in the locker room on Christmas Day 1981 following the struggling Knicks\u2019 96-95 loss to the cross-town rival New Jersey Nets. The Knicks were in transition after winning two championships in the 1970s. Franchise icons Earl \u201cThe Pearl\u201d Monroe, Walt Frazier and others were gone, replaced by a patchwork roster led by a young and vulnerable Richardson. The loss was New York\u2019s fourth straight.<\/p>\n Afterward, surrounded by a small group of reporters, Richardson, wrapped in a towel, calmly said: \u201cThe ship\u2026.be sinkin\u2019.\u201d<\/p>\n \u201cHow far can it sink?\u201d one of us asked.<\/p>\n \u201cThe sky\u2019s the limit,\u201d the player responded.<\/p>\n You couldn\u2019t make that up.<\/p>\n Richardson, too, had his demon \u2014 a drug addiction that he could not conquer until long after it cost him the best of his career. Many of today\u2019s sports leagues\u2019 policies and practices on managing, treating and, if necessary, penalizing athletes for drug use and addiction were borne out of the NBA\u2019s handling of Richardson.<\/p>\n Between 1982 and 1987, I chronicled the awkward and uncomfortable dance between the league and Richardson<\/a>. In February of 1986, Richardson was banned<\/a> from the league for a third-strike violation of the NBA\u2019s still-new policy on substance use. Two years later, after rehab, Richardson was reinstated but chose to finish his career as a star in Italy and France. He retired in 2002 at the age of 46.<\/p>\n Richardson conquered his addiction and settled to a quiet life in Lawton, Oklahoma.<\/p>\n Living with cancer<\/p>\n Since my urologist confirmed my biopsy results as prostate cancer<\/a>, the most challenging aspect of my journey has been psychological. Living with cancer. Knowing that it\u2019s in my body \u2014 from the moment I open my eyes each morning until I close them each evening. And while I sleep. Knowing it could kill me.<\/p>\n As I shared in an earlier Cancer Chronicle<\/a> column, I believe in God and science. So, after three medical opinions and an abundance of prayer, I chose active monitoring<\/a> as my treatment strategy after initially dismissing it.<\/p>\n I was able to do so because, thankfully, my cancer (stage 2) was caught relatively early after years of regular exams and tests. Prostate cancer killed my father when I was 11, so the disease was bound to snare me at some juncture. One in six Black men will be diagnosed with prostate cancer \u2014 compared with one in eight white men. The odds are worse for men with a direct relative with prostate cancer. <\/p>\n My cancer was also found to be slow-moving, and a genetic test revealed it was unlikely to become aggressive. Anything can happen, of course, but from the moment a heightened PSA (prostate-specific antigen) test in April launched my path toward discovering cancer, I was guided by faith, not fear.<\/p>\n Still, who chooses to walk around with cancer in their body when there are options for removing it? When there\u2019s surgery? When there\u2019s radiation and chemo? When there are other options? Plenty, apparently. Almost 60 percent of men<\/a> with low-risk cancers (about 43 percent of all cases) now choose active monitoring, up from 26 percent in 2014, reported The New York Times<\/a>.<\/p>\n Physically, I feel no different than the day I heard the word \u201ccancer.\u201d Now, when folks ask, \u201cHow are you doing?\u201d while making that face<\/a>, I respond with \u201cFine,\u201d \u201cGood,\u201d or \u201cGreat!\u201d<\/p>\n That\u2019s the truth. Other than the aches and sprains that come with a 69-year-old body, I feel great.<\/p>\n It seems, though, that my phone knows I have cancer. I can\u2019t pick it up without seeing an ad for a cancer drug or treatment or someone among the myriad of survivors now sharing their testimony. Like James Pickens, Jr.,<\/a> the Grey\u2019s Anatomy actor who shared last month that he\u2019s cancer-free after being diagnosed with prostate cancer in 2024<\/a>.<\/p>\n Like me, he\u2019d begun getting regular checkups and PSA tests in his 40s.<\/p>\n Like him, I hope to be cancer-free one day.<\/p>\n Like him, I\u2019m sharing my journey with y\u2019all to elevate awareness and encourage men over 40 to get tested.<\/p>\n I recently joined the board of directors of the Mike Slive Foundation for Cancer Research<\/a>, which provides early-stage grants for potentially groundbreaking efforts to cure prostate cancer, and hosts free PSA testing at various events across Alabama and beyond. Next year, we\u2019ll be at events throughout Alabama and the Southeast.<\/p>\n