As the MLB stands up to cancer, I share a deeply personal story of my friend Mel and my own upcoming MOHS surgery on November 3, 2025.
The 2025 World Series is between the Los Angeles Dodgers and the Toronto Blue Jays. Each year, Major League Baseball (MLB) sponsors the Stand Up To Cancer (SU2C) tribute. A moment on television that shows players, umpires, coaches, broadcasters, and fans holding simple placards bearing the names of loved ones to honor those affected by this disease.
This moment during the games allows us to look beyond the scoreboard and recognize the courage required, not just in the bottom of the ninth, but in the biggest fight of all. That fight is personal to everyone holding a sign, and it is a battle where early detection and decisive action are the most powerful weapons we possess.
The SU2C tribute is a public display of solidarity, but for many of us, the fight against cancer remains intensely private. My close friend Mel was a courageous man who fought a brutal battle with brain cancer. I was with Mel when he passed, and the sorrow of losing him is matched only by the deep respect I have for the courage he demonstrated every single day.
Mel's influence, however, extends beyond his own battle. He was a pillar of strength during my own darkest hours. Mel was the first person I saw after waking up from a medically induced coma in November 2004. I was disoriented and tormented by recurring nightmares about the fiery helicopter crashes. His presence —his familiar face —was the anchor that pulled me back. That level of dedication—the courage to stand by a friend facing an ordeal—defines his memory.
Mel's fight, and the millions like it, underscores the mission of organizations like SU2C: to accelerate research and foster collaboration so that fewer people have to face a prognosis like his. They fund innovative team science to turn patients into long-term survivors, and their work, often highlighted by MLB's partnership, is a testament to the power of collective resolve. They understand that while a cancer diagnosis can feel isolating, the cure must be a team effort.
While significant research and institutional efforts like SU2C are critical, courage in this battle also appears in its quietest, most personal form: the courage to know.
On November 3, 2025, I will undergo my third MOHS surgery to remove a Basal Cell Carcinoma (BCC). Though not the dramatic brain cancer that claimed Mel, it is a reminder that cancer does not discriminate by form or severity. The statistics surrounding BCC, the most common form of skin cancer, tell a clear story of hope: surgical treatments like MOHS boast a cure rate of up to 99% for tumors treated for the first time, especially when caught early.
The key to that near-perfect success rate is early detection.
These figures aren't abstract data; they represent the rewards of courage—the willingness to step up, talk to a doctor, and get screened. This proactive choice gives both the patient and the physician the absolute best odds of success. Early detection and treatment are proven ways to help beat many forms of cancer, making that initial appointment the most important act of courage a person can make.
Categories: : Cancer, Courage & Resilience, Courage and Resilience, Current Events, Early Detection, Health & Wellness, Health and Wellness, MLB, Social Cause