Wizards’ biggest score

Buyers take over today, ending Lamar Hunt’s role with the franchise he brought to town in ’96

Published: Sept. 1, 2006

Lamar Hunt made the proposal at the Capital Grille on the Plaza.

Hunt’s Wizards had been for sale for nearly a year when he broke bread with Cerner Corp. co-founders Neal Patterson and Cliff Illig last December. Hunt’s pitch about the future of soccer was so strong that a group led by Patterson and Illig announced Thursday that it had bought the Wizards.

The sale ended a tumultuous 20-month period in which the Wizards twisted in the wind, and put to rest rumors of the team leaving town. It also closed the curtain on Kansas City’s soccer relationship with Hunt, who brought the franchise to town in 1996 and has been an eloquent spokesman for the sport over the last 40 years.

“We are standing on the shoulders of what Lamar and his family have done with soccer in this country,” Patterson said Thursday, “and to be able to come in at this time is an amazing opportunity.

“We see an opportunity at keeping professional soccer in Kansas City and helping make soccer the top professional sport in the United States by 2020.”

The Wizards will remain in the Kansas City area next season but are without a place to play. Extensive renovations to Arrowhead Stadium mean the team must find a temporary home as the new owners try to get a soccer-specific stadium built.

The group said it hopes to have a new stadium built by 2009, and meanwhile the Wizards will play in a retrofitted stadium in Johnson County, which is expected to be announced by mid-October.

The purchasing group, OnGoal LLC, also includes Pat Curran, David French, Greg Maday and Robb Heineman. The group declined to disclose what it paid for the team, but Major League Soccer Commissioner Don Garber said it exceeded the cost for an expansion team, which would be more than $15 million.

Earlier this year, a source told The Star that the group’s investment was in excess of $30 million, which included purchasing the team, working capital and an undetermined amount that would be used as seed money for a soccer-specific stadium, which the group hopes to build in south Overland Park.

Hunt put the team up for sale on Dec. 9, 2004, and said he hoped to find an owner that was committed to keeping the Wizards in Kansas City.

The first known buyer to come forward was New York businessman Andrew Murstein, who announced his intention to buy the team last summer, but his flirtation with the team ended after three months.

The Wizards also were rumored to be headed for San Antonio; Rochester, N.Y.; and, as recently as this summer, Philadelphia.

“As little as a month ago, it looked like maybe it was headed to another town,” Hunt said. “It was only over the last month that it became more solidified.”

Hunt and the new owners said that was because plans for a soccer complex in Johnson County have taken shape. Last week, Overland Park began laying the groundwork for securing a special state tax incentive to help finance a soccer-specific stadium at 159th Street and U.S. 69 as part of a complex that could include 24 youth soccer fields.

The Johnson County Park and Recreation District board voted 5-0 Monday night to place a $75 million bond question on the Nov. 7 ballot to build the youth fields that likely would be part of the complex.

It’s worth noting that Hunt’s initial stipulation for buying the team was that the new owners would have to have a stadium plan in place. Thursday’s sale announcement included no details of a stadium plan, but Hunt and Garber said they were confident a stadium would get built, especially considering Patterson and Illig’s success in founding Cerner, a leading supplier of health-care information technology based in North Kansas City.

“It was very important to find a local group that had passion for the sport,” Garber said, “but also had the ability, the resources and the facilities to secure the partnership to get a facility built.”

The new Wizards owners, who officially take over today, said the stadium deal is going to require people chipping in together.

“Kansas City is going to be a significant beneficiary, but we’re all going to have to work together to proceed,” Illig said.

But what if the stadium deal falls through?

“Go to Plan B,” Patterson said. “We’re business folks. You don’t build a company like Cerner (without) having a Plan B.

“But Plan A is going to work.”

That was welcome news for Hunt, who admitted being a little choked up at the notion of no longer owning the Wizards.

“I’m especially pleased to see us consummate a transaction with the end result of the Wizards continuing in Kansas City and the Kansas City metropolitan area,” Hunt said. “I’ll lead the applause on that one.”

A crowd of more than 100 people at the Overland Park Convention Center then joined Hunt in a round of applause.

Garber and the new owners praised Hunt for his commitment to keeping the team in Kansas City, a development that came about because he sold Patterson and Illig on soccer.

After that dinner on the Plaza, Illig and Patterson stopped for a drink.

“We went to a bar and I said, ‘This is the greatest sports entrepreneur ever,’ ” Patterson said. “He just explained the business of soccer and even though we’re buying the team that he created, we’re still partners at the league level.

“I told Cliff, we want to be in business with Lamar.”

And now they are, all because of that dinner date on Dec. 4 — a day Hunt was certain of because of the other Kansas City sports team he owns.

“The same day,” Hunt said, “that the Chiefs beat the Broncos.”

The Star’s Finn Bullers contributed to this report

Medical dilemma tough on Wizard

Blood disorder forces Matt Groenwald to sit out this season

Published: July 3, 2007

The irony is not lost on Wizards midfielder Matt Groenwald.

He’s out for the season because of a hereditary blood disorder that causes what he calls a ball of chest pain. Instead of training, he fills his days studying for his master’s degree in biology, even writing papers about the disorder, known as Factor V Leiden.

“I can’t even say how many days I wake up and want to go for a run,” Groenwald said. “I go to practices a couple of times a week just to be around the guys. Those friendships and camaraderie I had with my teammates is something I really miss. I haven’t been able to stay at practice, because it’s too depressing.

“That’s been very frustrating to go from a really very active lifestyle to being pretty sedentary.”

Before being diagnosed in February and going on injured reserve, Groenwald was full of zip. After making 16 starts as a rookie in 2006, he was eager to show his stuff for new Wizards coach Curt Onalfo.

But after a workout in January, Groenwald’s right calf began throbbing. He was in peak physical condition, so he didn’t think much of it.

Initially told the pain was the result of overuse, Groenwald stayed out of the gym but started swimming to maintain his fitness. Days before preseason practices began in February, the pain was still present, intensifying to the point that it woke him up one night.

Figuring something was seriously wrong, Groenwald went to the emergency room. He learned the leg pain was caused by blood clots, and he was put on blood thinners.

A week later, he started having pain in his chest, which remains today. He describes it as a knot or a ball under his breastbone.

Groenwald inherited Factor V Leiden from his father, who has two damaged genes. Groenwald has only one damanged gene, which puts him at a lesser risk of clots than his father. But his dad has never had a clot.

“I’m 24, have one copy of it and already have had a horrible clotting experience,” Groenwald says. “It’s another frustrating element to this situation.”

Even in his lowest moments, Groenwald thinks of his mother, who’s recovering from her own physical battle.

Why, just in the last year, she’s learned to walk again.

One day last July, Rosemary Groenwald felt a tingling in her knee, sort of like after hitting your funny bone. By dinner, the sensation was down to her foot. The next morning, the feeling was on her whole right side from her waist down, and she began losing functionality in her foot.

She was treated at her home in Mount Prospect, Ill., for a couple of days, but soon was in the hospital where, within a day, she lost all function on her right side: leg, bladder and bowel.

Rosemary, 51, had Transverse Myelitis, a neurological disorder caused by inflammation across one segment of the spinal cord. Once the inflammation goes down, a patient may fully recover or be permanently paralyzed. Rosemary was bound to a wheelchair and for six months couldn’t even lift her right foot.

“Life is a learning experience,” she says, “and sometimes it doesn’t throw stuff at you that you like, but you’ve got to rebound.”

After lengthy rehabilitation, Rosemary has gone from the wheelchair to a walker to needing just a cane.

“I’ve honestly found more motivation to just kind of say ‘it is what it is,’ ” Matt Groenwald says, “because of everything that my mom’s gone through with the disease that she’s battling right now and how well she battles it and how her resolve and good nature and all the important things like her personality hasn’t really changed at all. I’ve found more motivation in that.”

In the early days of his mother’s rehabilitation, Groenwald called daily while he continued playing with the Wizards. When the offseason started, and his mother began to improve, he had little reason to believe he was soon to face his own health issue.

In the first days after his diagnosis, Groenwald was giving blood daily for tests and meeting with doctors.

His frustration grew as he couldn’t find answers to the random nature of clotting in people with Factor V Leiden or even how long his recovery process would be.

But he could look to his mother, who has made tremendous strides in her recovery.

“You see somebody how they were before and the obstacles that they’re going through and just seeing what they’re doing,” says Groenwald’s father, Thomas. “It’s not easy. I think he looks at her and says, ‘Here she is 50 years old and here I am a young guy.’ It gives him something that says she’s doing it and here’s what I’ve got to do.

“Especially when it hits you close to home, it’s a lot easier to identify with it, because you know what type of person they are. … This is a life-changing circumstance, there’s no question about it.”

While he’s forced to sit out, Groenwald is close to finishing his master’s degree in biology at St. John’s, where he got his undergraduate degree.

“I’ve shifted that competitiveness to almost competing with myself every day in preparing my papers and studying,” Groenwald says. “Every day I try to leave knowing that I’m better off than the day before or the week before. So I’ve been able to be competitive with myself in that respect.”

Being out of practice has also given Groenwald time with his fiancee, Ellen, and their daughter, Cameron, who was born last summer. Had he been with the Wizards, Groenwald would have been in Florida and Argentina during the preseason.

Instead, he’s had a chance to watch his daughter grow during a time some fathers miss. And he’s been able to help Ellen plan their wedding.

Groenwald still aches to be on the soccer field and hopes to be cleared to start exercising soon. But with a little help from Mom, his situation isn’t as dire as it first seemed.

“You can’t change what happens, but maybe you can change how you deal with it,” Rosemary says. “Or you use it to inspire you to work harder to change what you can change in any given situation.”

A sweaty tradition sticks

The Wizards’ Jimmy Conrad relishes his collection of opponents’ game jerseys

Published: Aug. 15, 2007

The Wizards’ Jimmy Conrad is happy to give you the shirt off his back. That is, if you’ll reciprocate.

Conrad loves to take part in a unique (and one of the most disgusting) traditions in sports — exchanging jerseys at the end of a soccer match. You’ll see a player peel off a sweaty, grass-stained jersey and switch with someone on the opposing team.

“It kind of makes us different from every other sport — one other reason,” Conrad said. “It just brings out the respect for the game and the person you’re competing against to say, ‘You had a great game. Let’s switch jerseys to commemorate our battle.’

“It is a tradition like no other.”

Yet, it’s kind of gross. Some players actually wear the jersey of the opposing player after making the switch.

“From a health standpoint, they tell you to wear it inside out, because of the sweat, but the sweat goes right through it anyway,” Conrad said. “I just throw it over my shoulder.”

The tradition dates to the 1954 World Cup in Switzerland and there have been some highs and lows. After Brazil beat England at the 1970 World Cup, Pele and English star Bobby Moore famously swapped jerseys and a handshake. But four years earlier, England and Argentina played a contentious match, and England coach Alf Ramsey didn’t allow his team to swap shirts, calling the Argentineans “animals.”

The latter story is rare.

“If somebody wants my jersey, I consider that a sign of respect and they value my game and think I’m a player worth having,” Conrad said. “Of course, I switched with Beckham. He’s probably washing his car with my jersey.”

That’s unlikely — Beckham is one of the richest soccer players on the planet, so someone else probably washes his car. But Conrad got Beckham’s jersey, complete with dirt stains, after playing with an MLS All-Star team at Real Madrid in 2005.

The Beckham jersey is the crown jewel of Conrad’s collection. He has nearly 40 of them — which are washed after each game (except Beckham’s) — and other big names include Germany’s Michael Ballack and Italy’s Andrea Pirlo. The custom, a staple at international matches, isn’t as prevalent in MLS games, but Conrad has made a point of switching.

“I wanted to get every team in MLS,” he said. “If I ever wanted to create a room in my house, it would be cool to have. So I switched with people who are my friends. I have Ronald Cerritos, Richard Mulrooney, Carlos Bocanegra, I have a Robin Fraser, Chris Brown.”

Conrad has jerseys from some teams that have switched names or are no longer in the league (Dallas Burn, San Jose Earthquakes and Clash).

While the Beckham jersey is arguably his most valuable, the Pirlo shirt may mean the most. He nabbed that souvenir after coming on as a second-half substitute in last year’s World Cup.

The U.S. team ended up tying 1-1 with Italy, which went on to win the Cup.

“That’s the thing with jerseys,” Conrad said. “It kind of commemorates the experience. You still can’t take the experience away. I can look at a jersey and I have a story.”

Bellissimo!

The resilient Azzurri blast away memories of past failures as they fight off the French and claim their nation’s fourth title

Published: July 10, 2006

BERLIN | With all that Italy has overcome at this World Cup, why not exorcise a ghost?

A history of penalty-kick failures was put to rest Sunday, along with all the talk of match-fixing scandals. Italy beat France 5-3 in a penalty-kick shootout after the teams were tied 1-1 at the end of overtime at Olympiastadion.

But not before some nervous moments.

“We had fear of the penalties,” said Italy’s Gennaro Gattuso. “Our history was not so great, so that was the fear.”

It had been a brutal piece of Italy’s past. There were losses on penalty-kick shootouts in the 1990, ’94 and ’98 World Cups. The loss in ’94 came in the final against Brazil in the Rose Bowl. One of the signature moments of that game was of ponytailed star Roberto Baggio missing the final kick for Italy.

But on Sunday, Italy didn’t show any fear, making all five of its penalty kicks. David Trezeguet hit the crossbar on his attempt for France, and that was the difference.

“I have to say thanks to the players,” said Italy coach Marcello Lippi. “This is the most satisfying moment of my life. We are very happy. The players have unlimited heart, character and personality.”

And focus. Since the start of the World Cup, there were daily updates of the match-fixing scandal that continues to brew back in Italy. Four teams face relegation to a lower league and 13 players on the Italy roster are on those teams.

But what was expected to be a distraction actually pulled the team together.

“If the scandal hadn’t happened, I think we wouldn’t have won the World Cup,” Gattuso said. “It has given us more strength.”

Still, the players celebrated Sunday as if a weight had been lifted.

As Italy’s Fabio Grosso lined up for the final penalty kick, his teammate goalkeeper Gianluigi Buffon kept his back to the play. When Grosso’s shot hit the back of the net, the crowd’s cheer let Buffon know the result.

Buffon spun around and joined his teammates in a sprint across the field to the corner flag where the party started.

The fun spilled in front of the Italian supporters in the stands, and Filippo Inzaghi grabbed a flag and pranced with it.

“It’s incredibly emotional,” Grosso said. “Words can hardly describe it. Maybe we still don’t realize what we have achieved. We really wanted to win, and in the end we made it.”

Marco Materazzi was the most boisterous, wearing a flag as a cape and donning a tall hat made up of the Italian red, white and green. He danced and jumped around like a child on Christmas morning.

It was Materazzi who changed the tide of the game — twice.

France appeared to have the upper hand when Zinedine Zidane converted a penalty kick in the seventh minute. It was the first goal by an Italian opponent and the first time Italy trailed at the World Cup.

But just 12 minutes later, Materazzi outjumped Patrick Vieira on a corner kick and headed the ball past French goalkeeper Fabien Barthez.

The second change came in overtime when Materazzi and Zidane were jawing at one another. Zidane head-butted Materazzi in the chest, drawing a red card in the 110th minute. Before Zidane’s ejection, France dominated play for the second half and overtime, but it just couldn’t break through.

“I’ve said it from the start, only victory is pretty,” said French coach Raymond Domenech. “There will always be something missing. You can say what we did wasn’t bad, but it’s Italy who are champions.”

This is Italy’s fourth World Cup title, trailing only Brazil, which has five. It didn’t come easy for the Italians, who had a player sent off in a 1-1 tie with the United States in group stage. Italy also got a dubious penalty call that made the difference against Australia in a round-of-16 game and beat Germany 2-0 with a pair of scores in the final three minutes of overtime in the semifinals.

But when the confetti dropped on the Italian players, who were celebrating with the World Cup trophy as fireworks burst overhead, no one was worried about style points, a match scandal or past penalty-kick failures.

“This squad showed great heart,” said Gattuso. “Maybe it wasn’t pretty, but we were hard to beat.”

Thank you very much

Decked-out Kansas Citians play to big crowds in a place where soccer is king.

Published: June 14, 2006

GELSENKIRCHEN, Germany | Elvis has left the building. Followed by Elvis … and Elvis and seven other Elvises.

Of the many sights at the World Cup, a pack of roaming Elvis impersonators may be the most peculiar.

It’s a sight straight out of the Kansas City area. Leawood’s Pat Ryan came up with the idea for he and friends to attend the World Cup in Germany dressed as Elvis.

But why go to a soccer match in an Elvis costume? Particularly on an unseasonably hot afternoon such as the one Monday, when the United States took on the Czech Republic.

The mob of U.S. fans at the train station offered the answer. The crowd already had been whipped into a frenzy thanks to hours of singing and drinking and waving flags. The Elvises’ arrival only amped up the party.

They were treated like, well, rock stars.

The throng pushed closer, yelling for their attention. Someone stuck a beer in the hands of one of the Kings. Fans of all nations rushed forward, asking for the group to pose for photos.

“This has been a blast,” Ryan said. “It’s been like this everywhere.”

The Elvises made their first appearance at the England-Paraguay game in Frankfurt, then took in Portugal-Angola in Cologne. Everyone from every part of the world seemingly has a soft spot for Elvis.

“It’s been insane,” said Phil Krause of St. Louis. “It’s been an awesome trip, A-1.”

The genesis of the trip began two years ago with a phone call from Ryan to three of his old friends.

He offered no details, just a cryptic message: “Meet me for lunch and bring your checkbook.”

Ryan had an ultimatum.

“I want you to know that if you ever need anything, I’ll be there,” Ryan said over lunch. “Now, there’s something I want from you. I want to go to the World Cup with each of you.

“This is your only chance. If you’re not with me now, then you’re not part of the group.”

Ryan had Paul Freeman, Jason Tyrer and David Scott each write a check for $300 as a down payment for the trip. Every few months, they would scribble off another check.

The trip was intended to be for those four. But about a week later, Kent Gardner of Sugar Creek eavesdropped on a phone conversation while the four Elvises-to-be were making plans. Gardner wanted in.

“It took me all of about 36 hours to decide,” Gardner said.

Ryan decided that would be fine, and as the months passed, more people joined in. All told, the group swelled to 59.

Not all are from Kansas City. They’ve come from places such as San Francisco and St. Louis, and they won’t all wear the Elvis costumes. Some just wanted to make the trip to Germany, and somehow Ryan managed to get tickets — which for the U.S.-Czech game were going for as much as $700 — for everyone.

And the capper to the deal? Before leaving for the World Cup, Ryan told the original three he had a gift for them in Germany. They were going to get their money back.

“It was an amazing moment,” Freeman said. “I couldn’t believe it. I still get chills just thinking about it.”

Said Ryan, “I wanted this to be a trip that we would remember and to spur them to come up with bigger and better trips in the future.”

The four want to go on further adventures — but don’t expect an invitation from Graceland. According to its Web site, Elvis Presley Enterprises Inc., which controls Elvis’ estate, distances itself from Elvis impersonators, lest some of them are unflattering.

But that hasn’t kept the four from other events. They’ve already run with bulls in Spain, and two took part in the Boston Marathon. Both times they were in Elvis regalia, just as they were on an 85-degree day in Germany.

That may not sound hot by KC standards, but try wearing a jump suit and wig and a cape. Then walk around a mass of humanity for 12 hours.

Still, they’ve been minor celebrities, even if they don’t sing (“I don’t have the voice for that,” Ryan said). They even posed with the Harlem Globetrotters — a group of fans from the West Coast who dressed like the famous basketball players.

But nobody, save if the U.S. national team had made an appearance, was as popular as the Elvises.

A security guard did a double-take, and a woman handing out brochures for a hotel service scrounged up a camera and had a Kodak moment.

“The Elvis suits have appreciated from $100 to $1,000 — or the cost of an England ticket,” Ryan said.

Before heading to the stadium (where they would later do an interview with ESPN’s Rob Stone), the group stopped for a beer and pizza (there were no peanut butter-and-banana sandwiches to be found). It was then that Bernie Pfeifauf of Kansas City spotted a young Czech Republic fan.

“Elvis lives,” Pfeifauf said to the Czech fan. “Spread the word.”

He’s certainly alive and well in Germany.

Conrad, no doubt

From college days to the World Cup, Wizards star has confounded naysayers

Published: May 31, 2006

When his playing days are over, Jimmy Conrad should have a nice career as a motivational speaker.

Conrad, the Wizards defender, is with the U.S. national team as it prepares for the World Cup, a fact that surprised nearly every soccer expert in the country. It was nothing new for him. The naysayers have buzzed around Conrad since he was a teenager.

The guy’s had more doors shut in his face than a salesman, yet here he is preparing to leave Thursday for Germany, where the World Cup starts next week.

“Through due diligence and perseverance, I make people change their minds,” Conrad says. “I think that’s probably the most rewarding aspect of getting to where I’ve gotten to on the World Cup roster. Not to say there aren’t doubters out there, but I think there are a lot of people who’ve changed their mind, and that’s not easy to do.”

Conrad’s rise (aka “The Story”) has been recounted so many times to family and friends that his wife, Lyndsey, just rolls her eyes when he starts in.

“`The Story’ – it just keeps getting added to,” she says. “It’s great, because great things continue to happen – but I do make fun of it.”

Jimmy wouldn’t have it any other way.

Jimmy Conrad is known in the soccer community for many things. He’s a talented player and has a sharp wit that’s on display monthly in ESPN.com columns.

Then there’s a fashion sense that is his own – witness the pink pants and red suit jacket Conrad wore to a meet-and-greet with Wizards fans.

“When I dress up or wear red pants, it’s almost for a shock value to see how other people are going to respond to it,” Conrad says. “I really don’t have any problem embarrassing myself. I have no fear in how silly I might look.”

It’s a philosophy that has served him well on and off the field.

Conrad can pinpoint the day he wanted to be a defender. It was during a practice when his coach, who was 10 years older, couldn’t beat the 12-year-old Conrad.

“He’d try to dribble me, and he couldn’t get past me,” Conrad says. “It gave me such great satisfaction to frustrate him that I enjoyed it. I feel that’s pretty much the reason I play defense is because I get satisfaction out of frustrating other people. If you know me, it makes perfect sense.”

Growing up in Los Angeles, Conrad was a fixture at UCLA soccer games, and dreamed of wearing the gold and blue.

After high school, Conrad inquired with the Bruins, but the coaching staff never bothered to call. Instead, he received a letter – on really nice UCLA stationary – offering a tryout if he was accepted by the school. Despite good grades, Conrad didn’t make it.

“I’m sure they have that letter saved in Microsoft Word,” Conrad says, “they print it, sign it and send it to the kids.”

Conrad went to San Diego State, where the coach offered him a scholarship at the behest of Conrad’s club coach.

By the end of his sophomore year, however, Conrad and seven others looked to transfer. He gave his dream another shot.

This time, UCLA coach Sigi Schmid called him back – albeit a month later. Schmid was interested but couldn’t commit at the time, so Conrad took the initiative, walking into the coach’s office with a videotape of one of his games.

Another month went by and Conrad, who was mulling a scholarship offer from Cal State-Northridge, finally got the call he’d always wanted. Sort of.

“Usually we give guys a tryout in two days,” Schmid told Conrad, “but we’ll give you a week with the guys and we’ll make our decision. I can’t give you any money, I can’t guarantee anything, but I will give you a week.”

A foot in the door was all he needed. The tryout was a success.

“There were 27 guys on the team. I was No. 27,” Conrad says. “I ended up starting the first game of the year. I was the first walk-on to start for UCLA since Cobi Jones. I got a three-, four-game run.”

But the road got bumpy, and Conrad was on the bench at the start of the NCAA tournament his senior year.

But 5 minutes into the Bruins’ first game, defender Kevin Coye went down because of a knee injury. Conrad was subbed in, and UCLA went on a dream run. The Bruins allowed just one goal in the five games and won the national championship.

“I thought, `This is insane,’ ” Conrad says. “This is awesome. I couldn’t believe it. It was a great feeling.”

It didn’t last long.

New England Revolution goalkeeper Matt Reis was Conrad’s teammate at UCLA, where there was a strict dress code.

“Sig wanted all of us to at least wear a jacket and a tie when we were on road trips, and Jimmy shows up I think in a brown corduroy jacket with elbow patches on it,” Reis says with a laugh. “It was just kind of his way.”

Five UCLA seniors were eligible for the 1998 MLS draft, and four were picked.

Guess who got passed over.

“I was like: `What? Weren’t people watching?'” Conrad says. “It just made me have to work for it again.”

Conrad latched on in the preseason with the Los Angeles Galaxy. Things went well at the start, so much so that after a practice, an assistant coach told Conrad he would travel with the team the next day for exhibition games in Florida.

However … on his way out of the locker room, Conrad was stopped by head coach Octavio Zambrano, who said he hadn’t decided who would be traveling.

Zambrano said he’d call Conrad that night and, oh by the way, to leave his equipment.

Conrad waited by the phone for nearly two hours before he broke down and called Zambrano, who simply said, “We’ll see you in two weeks.”

“That was it,” Conrad says. “I was gutted. I didn’t have any hard feelings, I just kept my head down and kept playing hard.”

When the Galaxy returned from the trip, Conrad was left off the team and joined the A-League’s San Diego Flash. After the season, Conrad and Flash goalkeeper Joe Cannon were called to train with MLS’ San Jose Earthquakes.

It turned out to be a long trip. On the way to San Jose, Cannon’s car overheated in sleepy Buttonwillow, Calif.

“I remember both of us freaking out, because we were supposed to be at practice the next day,” Cannon says. “My dad came all the way down, like three hours. He drove from San Jose to come get us both in the middle of the night. We ended up getting home at about 2 or 3 in the morning just so we could get up and make a good impression in our first practice.”

They did something right, because both were signed for the 1999 season. By the next year, Conrad was a mainstay in the San Jose defense.

It was a good thing, because Conrad wasn’t playing just for himself. His stepfather, Rob Doty, fought a losing battle with cancer that summer. With Conrad in the starting lineup, Rob’s friends would come by the house every week to watch Jimmy’s games on television. Soccer, not cancer, was the topic of conversation on those visits.

“It was rough, but I knew that I had a role in the whole scheme and that was to play and to give people an opportunity to say hi to him,” Conrad says. “I took a lot of pride in that, and I felt good about that.

“My coach, Lothar Osiander, was great during the whole process and very understanding. He stuck with me during games that maybe he shouldn’t have. There were definitely some games that I was an emotional wreck and maybe not playing the best soccer or what I’m capable of.”

Brides are supposed to be the center of attention at a wedding. Conrad did well at the ceremony, wearing a black suit and tie. But at the reception …

“There are times when a bride will have a costume change, they’ll change out of their wedding dress,” Lyndsey says. “But that was Jimmy. He changed from his nice outfit and wore pink pants with a red coat and some version of pink and red, a just horrible shirt.”

To Conrad’s chagrin, Osiander was fired at the end of the 2000 season. Frank Yallop took over, and the Earthquakes won the MLS Cup in 2001 with Conrad playing every minute during the playoffs.

After the 2002 season, Conrad was traded to Kansas City, where he made an immediate impact. He started 30 games in 2003 and set a career high with four goals.

Conrad now longed for a chance to prove himself at the ultimate level: with the U.S. national team. However, coach Bruce Arena hadn’t called Conrad’s number.

“I knew in my heart all I needed was a couple of weeks with Bruce for him to appreciate me,” Conrad says.

By 2004, Conrad was a finalist for MLS defender of the year and a “Best XI” pick. That December, Conrad was called into national-team camp. Yet again, it wasn’t that simple. The camp was cancelled because of a labor dispute.

Things were settled in time for a January camp. Only this time, Conrad wasn’t invited.

“Then Danny Califf left to join a team (in Europe), so when he left, that opened the door for me, so I finally got called in,” Conrad says. “I was like, `I’m going for it, I’ve got nothing to lose.’ ”

Despite never appearing in a game for the United States, Conrad was part of the roster for the 2005 Gold Cup. He was the only player to appear in every game as the U.S. team won the tournament.

Conrad’s stock was rising, and after a strong winter and spring with the national team, liked his chances for making the World Cup roster.

But, again, the waters turned choppy. Just weeks before Arena was set to announce the roster, Conrad had double-hernia surgery.

“I had been with the national team consistently for about a year so I knew in my heart that Bruce knew what I could and couldn’t do,” Conrad says.

Conrad, who made a quick recovery, apparently made a good impression. Arena chose him for the 23-man roster on May 2.

“I’m sure there are countless people who say, `I can’t believe he’s on the World Cup team,’ ” Conrad says. “Get in line. There have been a lot of people who’ve said I can’t do things for a long time. I get a nice level of satisfaction from proving people wrong.”

Who can’t relate to that? The kid who initially couldn’t get a tryout at UCLA and was passed over by every MLS team in the draft, is on top of the soccer world. He’s living the dream of every soccer player around the world, preparing to represent his country at the World Cup.

His hard work is paying for the trip.

“I think Jimmy is never the type of person to say `I’m at the top,'” Cannon says. “He’s one of those people who’s going to keep climbing. One day he’s going to look down and go, `Wow, I didn’t know I was so high up.'”

Happy to learn life’s lessons

Story published: Aug. 10, 2008

Wizards coach Curt Onalfo may be such an unrelenting optimist because he once looked at cancer’s grim face.

Curt Onalfo sits in his office at the Wizards’ Swope Park practice facility, points to a photo of the MLS Cup and says he aims to win a bunch of them. Intends to get Kansas City excited about his team. Wants soccer to be huge around town.

Never mind that summertime is here and his team hasn’t won in seven games. What’s happening on the soccer field isn’t a concern right now.

That’s evident by Onalfo’s reaction to a package that arrived recently. It’s a framed soccer shirt signed by 11 players of the Ridgefield Cosmos — a youth team he coached in 1992.

The card with it reads: Imagine. Dream. Believe.

Onalfo opens it and the thought is finished: Achieve.

Under that sentiment is a handwritten note:

Congrats on becoming head coach of the Kansas City Wizards. Sorry this is a year late. It took a while for the shirt to get around and even longer for me to get around to send it. My apologies. I hope all is well, Paul Jawlik

“They sent me that,” Onalfo says, “which couldn’t have happened at a better time, because we’re going through a little bit of a tough stretch. It’s so little but means so much.”

By nature, Onalfo always looks ahead. The next game. Next week’s practice. A killer stretch of schedule looming on the horizon. But for the moment, that shirt allows him to gaze into his past. To a time that helped define who he is today.

“It kind of brought me back to the moment,” Onalfo says. “I’m a real achieve-oriented guy. I get my blinders on, and I go after it. There are times I forget I even had it.”

You see, Onalfo is a cancer survivor.

Onalfo’s playing career was at its zenith in 1992. A year after playing professionally in France, he was captain of the U.S. Olympic team in Barcelona, Spain. The United States went 1-1-1, beating Kuwait and tying Poland, which eventually won the bronze medal.

Unfortunately for Onalfo, he played with a torn Achilles’ tendon. It required two surgeries to repair, so he returned home to Ridgefield, Conn. While rehabbing, Onalfo played on a semipro team and coached the Cosmos, an under-10 team.

His greatest concern at the time was asking his mother to change her laundry detergent, which was making him itch. Then, Onalfo noticed a lump in his neck.

Onalfo visited John Buckman, a doctor and friend of the family. He took an X-ray and called two days later — on Nov. 19, 1993, Onalfo’s 24th birthday — asking to do further evaluations.

After a battery of tests, Buckman had one more request.

“Can you call your mother and bring her in?” Buckman said.

Onalfo was incredulous. “I’m 24 years old, what do I need my mother for?”

“Just do me a favor, and call your mother.”

When Onalfo’s mother arrived, Coleman told her that her son had a serious illness and was being referred to a physician in Danbury, Conn., a 15-minute drive.

When they arrived at Martin Abrams’ office door, Onalfo was puzzled.

“Mom,” Onalfo asked, “what is an oncologist?”

“It’s a cancer doctor,” she replied.

After more tests, Abrams looked at Linda Onalfo and said, “Your son has Hodgkin’s disease. We have to stage it, but it looks like it’s very advanced.”

Linda’s jaw locked. “Is he going to be able to have kids?!” she asked.

For Onalfo, his mother’s question was oddly reassuring.

“That was her first reaction,” Onalfo says. “It was really interesting. It was a window into my parents, who are very positive, supportive people. She didn’t see the negative in it. She saw a son who wanted to have a beautiful family and: Is he going to be able to have kids? It wasn’t like he’s going to die.”

Abrams told Linda that patients who undergo chemotherapy often can’t have children, but there were alternatives.

“So we’re talking about sperm banks to start,” Onalfo says with a laugh. “It wasn’t ‘Where’s the cancer?’ and all that.”

Of course, this was no laughing matter. Onalfo had a large mass in his sternum and it was under his arms. Worse yet, it had spread to his spleen.

“Once it leaves your lymphatic system and goes to another organ,” Onalfo says, “it’s bad.”

That night, the family had a muted dinner to celebrate Onalfo’s 24th birthday. Plans for meeting friends afterward were cancelled.

“My initial reaction was: This is it. I’ve had an unbelievable life, just lived a dream, went to the Olympics and was euphoric,” Onalfo says. “Maybe this is my time.

“That lasted five, 10 minutes, and then I got kind of pissed off at myself and got my game face on.”

He knew the best doctor for Hodgkin’s — Morton Coleman — was 75 minutes away in New York. Onalfo decided early on that he didn’t want to have radiation treatments. He’d read about people getting tumors 20 years after having radiation. He was adamant about avoiding it.

Onalfo got his way. He got Coleman to recommend a treatment plan that Abrams would follow.

He was ready to start the fight.

Onalfo hates black beans. The mere mention produces a slight scowl and an attempt to rid a taste from his mouth.

While undergoing treatment, Onalfo was put on a macrobiotic diet by his mother. She bought organic when possible and avoided processed foods, while serving grains, vegetables and beans. A lot of black beans.

Still, Onalfo sought out his own meals.

“When he was taking chemo, he really liked Indian food, those Indian spices,” Linda says. “For some reason, he felt like he needed those spices.”

It was to cover the taste of the chemotherapy drugs in his mouth.

It was determined that the Hodgkin’s was Stage III, the second-most serious. Eschewing radiation meant that Onalfo would undergo chemotherapy. In that, anticancer drugs are used to disrupt the growth of cancer cells.

Onalfo lifts his blue Wizards shirt and points to a scar in the shape of a cross over his heart.

“See that?” he asks.

“When they administer chemo, they do it through your veins and eventually your veins blow out. So they put a portacath under your skin. It’s a tube that goes into your chest. They just stick a needle in there and that’s how they administer chemo.”

The portacath requires a horizontal incision, but Onalfo asked the doctors to make the vertical cut as well.

“I said, ‘You know what, let’s put a cross on it,’ ” Onalfo says, “so I have a constant reminder that I’ve gotten a second chance.”

Battling cancer was unlike anything Onalfo had faced. That was brought home before one treatment when a needle broke. A little of the red medicine spilled, burning Onalfo’s skin.

“It’s strong stuff,” Onalfo says. “When they administer it, you get this taste.”

The scowl returns.

On the first and seventh of each month, the drugs were injected. Then it was two weeks of taking drugs orally.

“The theory is: You bring yourself as close to death without dying, and you let your body recuperate,” Onalfo says. “You hope you kill all the cancer cells, and they don’t reproduce.

“If white blood cells don’t get back to a certain point, they can’t administer (the drugs) again. It all depends on how you react to it and how you recuperate.”

There are many odd aspects to Hodgkin’s disease. Itching is a symptom. Turns out that the laundry soap wasn’t causing Onalfo’s discomfort.

Patients sometimes report a numbing of the fingers and toes, which can be scary for a soccer player. Fortunately, with Coleman’s treatment plan, Onalfo never had any problems.

There was nothing that could be done about his hair, however. When it began falling out, Onalfo shaved his head. Next to go were the eyebrows and eyelashes. That’s when you can really tell a cancer patient, and Onalfo hated that part.

“If you start feeling sorry for yourself, you’re doomed,” Onalfo says. “I didn’t like people looking at me, ‘Hey, that guy’s got cancer.’ I just didn’t want people to feel sorry for me. I didn’t want that.”

Worse yet were the looks from his parents and older brother Cliff.

“You can fight it,” Onalfo says, “but just watching how my family was, I didn’t like that. You could see how much it concerned them, yet they don’t have any control over it.”

Ultimately, this was Onalfo’s battle. And the one thing he could always control was his attitude.

What better way to influence his outlook on life than by working with kids? Onalfo threw himself into coaching the Cosmos.

Teaching soccer to a bunch of 9-year-olds was a blast. For the kids, too.

Memories of those days with the Cosmos are fuzzy, but Jawlik remembers his coach.

“I was definitely inspired,” says Jawlik, “especially as a youth soccer player having not only a coach who played for the Olympic team, but also a coach who was going through this battle with cancer and overcoming this battle. He’s probably the biggest role model I had at that point of my life.”

Regardless of how well cancer treatment progresses, a person has to stick with the program until the end. For Onalfo, that meant all six months. But by the end of three months, Onalfo’s cancer had disappeared.

And, as many a 24-year-old might feel, Onalfo was a tad cocky. He was working out more than the doctors had advised. Why not? The cancer was gone and he wanted to get in playing shape.

Then he went for a check-up in the final month and his white-blood cell count had crashed. He was susceptible to a possibly fatal illness.

“They admitted me right to the hospital,” Onalfo says. “I wasn’t allowed to have visitors and the doctors came in with masks on, and that scared the crap out of me, because if I had caught some sort of a simple illness I could have died. That was a wake-up call, because the cancer was gone.”

Fortunately, his white-blood count rebounded. The cancer was gone, and he could look ahead to restarting his soccer career.

Onalfo returned to the soccer field later in 1994, joining the Connecticut Wolves of the A-League. The next year, he played for Tampico FC in Mexico. That’s where he met his wife, Sandra. The couple was married on Nov. 15, 1996.

While on their honeymoon, Sandra got pregnant. So much for the talk about sperm banks.

Christian was born on July 26, 1997. During the pregnancy, Onalfo never once mentioned a fear that had been shadowing him.

“After all the therapy I’d been through, I was just wanting to make sure I had a healthy child,” Onalfo says. “I’m one of these people, if I have something I fear, I don’t like to think about it too much, because I don’t want it to manifest.

“When he was born, I was looking at him and he was perfect.”

During the dark days of chemotherapy, mother and son had many long talks. About things that matter most: life, family and friends.

“We always said: Right after this, we’re just going to worry about things that are life and death. Nothing else, ” Linda recalls. “Of course, we’re back to worrying about other things, too.”

That’s why it tickled Onalfo to receive that framed shirt. It reminded him of how his life was almost cut short. How fortunate he was to be alive and coaching a Major League Soccer team. How he wants to win a bunch of championships.

“I want a happier ending,” Onalfo says. “You understand? I had a good career as a player. It was cut short probably by the cancer. I played in Mexico and in MLS, but I was never really the same after I went through it in terms physically. I lost a step.

“I want all of this to have a really great ending where I’m able to help inspire people, help a community get excited about a great game. I am. It makes me want to get more out of life.”