6 Minutes Wrestling with Life

Mrs. Irrelevant

When it comes to life
The critical thing is
Whether you take things for granted
Or have gratitude for the opportunity

Gilbert K. Chesterton

Every year over three hundred players are selected in the NFL college draft.

One of them has to hold the dubious distinction of being the last player selected.

Each year that player is nicknamed "Mr. Irrelevant" because no one really expects the last player selected to ever make an impact on any team in the NFL.

In 1983, that honor belonged to John Tuggle, whom the NY Giants drafted with the 335th overall and last pick of that year's draft.

Irrelevant is defined as insignificant, unimportant, immaterial and easily overlooked.

John Tuggle was anything but irrelevant, insignificant, unimportant, immaterial or easily overlooked.

The 1983 "Mr. Irrelevant" became the first player in NFL history to make the roster of the team that selected him in the draft. John not only made the team, but he also made an impact – earning the New York Giants Special Teams Player of the Year in his rookie season.

John's biggest impact wouldn't be on the field, it would be off the field, in the game of life.

The following year, during a routine team physical, John Tuggle was diagnosed with a rare form of cancer.

He would never play again.

For the next two years, no teammate dared complain about a sprained ankle or a sore rib. They witnessed John's struggle. They saw him practice with the team everyday in an attempt to recapture his starting position, while losing his hair, being sapped of his energy and battling cancer, all at the same time.

John's will and determination touched every one of his teammates, and especially his soon to be Hall of Fame coach.

Even though John would never play another down in the NFL and would die in his sleep a few years later, "Mr. Irrelevant" made a significant impact in the most important area,

On other people's lives.

The 335th pick of the 1983 NFL college draft wound up being anything but irrelevant.

His Hall of Fame coach, Bill Parcells, said this of John,

"You had to gain an understanding of this guy's determination, his will. You gain an appreciation for those qualities only under duress, during times of pain. John had qualities you couldn't see. John Tuggle has made a great impact on my life."

December 25th, 2009

Once again, the dreadful combination of lack of mobility and an open hole in her throat has landed Jess in the hospital with another bout of pneumonia.

I am getting to be a pro at this by now. By this, I mean my three-day excursion, staying in Jess's hospital room with her and being her advocate while she is as vulnerable as one could possibly be.

At first I would just blend in – just be there for Jess and allow the hospital to run on its rhythm.

It didn't take me too long to figure out that the cookie-cutter system on which the hospital ran, was not what was right for Jess. While having a respiratory treatment done at midnight, blood work done at 2 a.m., temperature taken at 4 a.m. and blood pressure taken at 6 a.m. may have been what was right for the hospital, it certainly was not the schedule I felt was right for Jess.

She needed uninterrupted rest to heal.

So I quarantined her.

I made it perfectly clear that no one was allowed in her room from 11 p.m. until 8 a.m. so she could get her proper rest.

Utopia ensued after this adjustment, or as close to Utopia as I could create under the circumstances.

After a few attempts at trying to ignore my quarantine rules, the hospital adjusted to my new schedule for Jess.

So at exactly 8 a.m., on Christmas morning, a very reluctant head peaked into Jess's room and said, "Mr. John, would you mind if I came in and cleaned the room?"

It was Juanita.

"No, of course not Juanita, come on in."

During my multiple stays at the hospital to date, Juanita and I have exchanged pleasantries as she cleaned Jess's room.

She always brought happiness with her on any day I saw her.

"It is such a beautiful day today, sun shining early in the morning.

It reminds me of back home," she shares.

To myself I ask how Juanita can be in such a great mood as she is working on Christmas morning.

Outwardly I inquire, "Where is back home?"

"San Pedro de Macoris."

"No way! You're from San Pedro de Macoris?" I blurt out as if I was born there.

"You know?" she asks surprisingly.

"Of course I know. It is the 'cradle of shortstops'. More major league shortstops come from San Pedro de Macoris than from any other town on earth," I share with her my trivia knowledge of her infamous hometown.

"Yes, yes, you know."

"Juanita, how do they do it, how does your hometown produce such great ballplayers?"

"Mr. John, I no live there for a long time but I do still have family there," she responds.

I ask a different way, "Juanita, when you lived there, what was it like?"

"Ohh, very poor, everyone is very poor. I remember little boys not having enough money for a ball, so they used a sock. They played all day. They loved to play. They all want to be – how you say – All Star?"

"Yes, an All Star," I confirm.

She goes on "The boys play in their bare feet in the streets all day, they love to play. There is nothing else. They can't believe America pays boys millions of dinero to play baseball, a game they would play for nada."

For a brief second, I contemplate how miraculous it is for a boy from San Pedro de Macoris to make it to the major leagues.

"Juanita, you said you have family back home?" I ask.

"Yes Mr. John, my son, he not a baseball boy. I am so glad that I have this job at Hospital. I save money to send to him for him to come to America one day."

"It must be hard to be away from your family," I solemnly say.

"Mr. John, I know my boy is ok and one day I will see him again. That will be a great day."

She adds, "Mr. John, I watch you. You a good man. Always here with sweet Jess, never leave room."

Then she stuns me by saying, "Me and you are the same. We see opportunity. We both be with our kids again one day. Until that day I keep working and send money back home, and you keep being a good man. It will happen. I promise."

Somehow, I truly believe her.

Juanita has a quality you cannot see. She has made my life better.

From San Pedro De Macoris to the Majors, for both of us.