Like a lot of others invited to next week’s MLB All-Star bash, former Allatoona High pitcher Clate Schmidt earned his place there through an equal mix of strength and competitiveness.
First of all, Schmidt had to be smart, really mentally strong. When he felt the barely pea-sized lump near his left clavicle, the kid could have tried to treat it with a shrug. How is that little bump going to hurt me, the big, strong Clemson junior might well have wondered.
“You’re 21 years old and feel 10-feet tall and bulletproof,” said Clate’s father, Dwight Schmidt. “A big percentage maybe walk away from that. Clate’s where he’s at with a good prognosis because he caught it.”
“Don’t be embarrassed, don’t be scared. It could be cancer, or it could be nothing, but you have to find out,” Clate said.
Then, after the June diagnosis of cancer — nodular sclerosing Hodgkin’s lymphoma — Schmidt had to develop a personal plan with how to deal with the difficult treatments to come and the inevitable curiosity aroused whenever a young athlete falls inexplicably ill.
The swings of emotion would be intense. For instance, on the same day Clate underwent his first round of chemotherapy, the Boston Red Sox made him a last-day draft pick.
“You’re sitting for three-and-a-half hours getting stuff dripped into you then get home 30 minutes later and the Red Sox called. I’m like, ‘There has to be a mistake here,’” Clate remembered. No mistake, and the team still regularly checks up on him even though he is returning to Clemson for his senior season.
Clate opted to share it all, firm in the belief that, as he says, “The story is not being written for me, but for those who come after me.” He was partner to several stories after his diagnosis, and appeared on a couple television interviews as well.
As a result, Shelby Miller won’t be the only metro Atlanta pitcher at Tuesday’s game. Having heard his tale, the folks at MasterCard, which backs the Stand Up To Cancer campaign, invited Schmidt, his parents and younger brother to be part of the All-Star celebration.
It’s uncertain how visible the Schmidt family is going to be since the NCAA had some curious issues with the prospect of Clate being a face of a corporation’s charitable work. Nevertheless, “Just to be part of the atmosphere, to get to meet all the guys, that’s going to be special,” he said.
However he interacts with the players next week, they all will find no shortage of like interests and common experiences.
The love of baseball would be high on the list.
A flurry of thoughts can sweep through a person’s mind upon hearing the word cancer. In Clate’s case he remembers his first one being: “Will I play baseball again?” He was assured that while it won’t be easy, the door to play again is open.
Further encouragement awaits immediately after the All-Star game. The first series back at Turner Field features a visit by the Chicago Cubs, whose starter Jon Lester is a survivor of a form of lymphoma. There’s a hoped-for meeting between the two some time next weekend.
Even through his treatments at WellStar Kennestone Regional Medical Center, Clate has kept up with lower-body workouts. Because of a port he wears for the duration of chemo, he’s unable to reach back and throw a baseball. That may get removed in two weeks, after which Clate is scheduled to begin rounds of radiation treatment. Then he can throw as much as his strength allows, a prospect that he is anticipating only as much as a child does Christmas.
Also uniting a large number of players who make it to the All-Star game is the strong, supportive family that propped them up along the way. The Schmidts can relate.
Clate’s younger brother Clarke, a pitcher at South Carolina, stayed close to home this summer in order to sit in through every chemo session. It also was his job, whenever older bro’ might be feeling a little puny, to give him a light head-butt or a chuck in the arm to lighten the mood.
His parents, of course, were shaken to the core by the finding. Dwight is an active reserve Marine pilot, flying for Delta, who, like he said, “can handle almost anything.”
“But you’re never ready for that diagnosis coming across the wire for your kid,” he said.
What seemed to help them all was the attitude that Clate adopted.
One of his initial tweets after the cancer was identified hinted at his approach: “Yesterday I was diagnosed with nodular sclerosing lymphoma. It’s just another path that God has sent me down that we didn’t plan on.”
Maybe there’s another All-Star common characteristic at work here — a strong desire to win, regardless of what form the opposition takes.
That means for Clate it is not just enough to beat back the cancer and be a symbolic presence on the Clemson bench. “I want to go back and be a Friday night pitcher (a college ace), a starter, a leader and help us get back on the path to Omaha (and the College World Series).”
Yes, this was a huge blow, but it also was an opportunity for Clate to learn a little more about himself.
“I have more resiliency than I thought I did. And I’ve found now I can have an effect on others on a grander scale than I ever did before,” he said.
Meeting him should be one of the highlights of the All-Stars’ experience.
