When I wrote ‘This Is What The Top Feels Like,’ my 2019 book about UC’s 2009 Sugar Bowl season, I knew I had to include a section about Mitch Stone and his relationship with the Bearcats. This is an excerpt from the book, reprinted here as a tribute to Mitch and the Bearcats after learning of Mitch’s death yesterday at the age of 23.
By Bill Koch
In 2009, Mitch Stone was 11 years old, a fifth-grader and straight A student at Maddux Elementary School in the suburban Forest Hills School District east of Cincinnati. He started to have headaches in February and was getting sick for no apparent reason. When he came home from school one day his mom noticed that his right eye looked different. It seemed to be turned inward.
“I couldn’t control it,” Mitch said. “I didn’t know it was happening, so we called the doctor. That’s when they found the (brain) tumor. Three days later I underwent surgery.”
In July, Mitch and his family were approached by the Cincinnati football team about being “adopted” by the Bearcats under the auspices of the Friends of Jaclyn Foundation.
At first Mitch was reluctant to get involved. He didn’t like the way he looked and didn’t want a lot of attention while going through such a trying time. But his family, especially his identical twin brother, Nick, talked him into it.
“They said this would be an amazing opportunity,” Mitch said. “I was a big Bearcat fan, but I had a lot going on at the time. Nick was like, ‘Man, you’ve got to do this. This can be so cool. Just think, we’ll get to hang out with the players and go on the field.’”
Mitch’s radiologist first reached out to him with the adoption idea, but it originated with Ernest Jones, the Bearcats’ director of player services. Jones had heard about the Friends of Jaclyn Foundation, which is dedicated to improving the quality of life for children diagnosed with brain tumors by matching the child with a college or high school sports team. When he consulted with doctors and nurses at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, they suggested Mitch.
Jones presented the idea to UC coach Brian Kelly, who was all for it. His players also were overwhelmingly in favor of it. They met Mitch and put together an adoption “ceremony” to make it official. The Bearcats thus became the first college football team in the country to become involved in the program. Mitch’s Mission was born. Everyone in the Cincinnati football program, from the coaches on down, wore a red, white and blue bracelet with the words “Mitch’s Mission” written on it.
“It was amazing,” Stone said. “I went to campus after a summer practice and they took me and my family into the team room. They did an introduction and told me we’re happy to have you on our team. They were kind of swarming in around me and they gave me a lot of swag, a lot of cool stuff that Nick could wear too. It was really a good way for me to get my mind off the constant treatment that I was going through at the time. I went to a few practices during the summer, but that was during the period when I was receiving chemotherapy, so that made it very difficult to go to a lot of practices.
“During the fall, I was still undergoing the chemotherapy. I would be in the hospital for three weeks receiving treatment and then they would let me out for a week. I went to a game during that time and I got to go up to one of the coaches’ boxes and sat with them and their families, and my family was allowed to join us. I got to watch a lot of games. That was really special, being a fan of Bearcat football my entire life.”
It was even more special because the Bearcats kept winning week after week. By the end of the season, they had put together the best season in Cincinnati football history, and Mitch was a big part of it. He was allowed to go into the locker room before games, just before the Bearcats took the field. He marveled at the surroundings and at how emotionally fired up the Bearcats were.
Because of his low white blood cell count, there were times when Mitch wasn’t allowed to see many people, so the Cincinnati players chipped in $5 apiece to buy him a pre-paid cell phone with a monthly plan so he could stay in touch with them. If he was having a bad day, Mitch could call a player. And they could call and text him.
UC wide receiver Mardy Gilyard would call periodically just to shoot the breeze and ask how school was going. Defensive lineman Ricardo Mathews called and sang Happy Birthday over the phone. Mitch appreciated every call, every text, but he grew especially close to running back John Goebel. They would pray together before games and became friends. Several years later Goebel invited Mitch and his family to his wedding.
“When Mitch and his family came, that was right in line with everything the guys were about,” Goebel said. “We gave him a standing ovation. A lot of our guys, we could relate. It was a lot of guys who weren’t getting everything on a silver platter. They weren’t getting scholarships to Ohio State. They had to earn everything they had.
“We knew right away there was something different about this kid. I felt like he was going to be getting a lot of love from a lot of people, but I wanted to reach out to him and talk to him on a regular person level and get to know his family a little bit. I just wanted him to be able to see that and see that it’s not all Saturday with the lights on and wearing the uniform. Ninety-eight percent of it is a grind and having to work your butt off.”
Goebel was going though a tough time of his own, missing a big chunk of the season with a hamstring injury. Seeing what Mitch was going through provided him with badly needed perspective.
“Seeing him show up for games in the shape that he was in and knowing what he was going through, we were like, ‘It’s not too bad,’” Goebel said. “’I don’t have it too bad with my injuries.’ Yeah, it was very frustrating, but I was like, ‘Dude, you’re alive. You’re getting your education paid for. It could be a lot worse, and if this kid can do what he’s doing, then you can do what you’re doing.’
“There were times when he couldn’t show up because he wasn’t healthy enough and it would be bad for him to be in front of everybody. It kind of weighs on you heavy. It helped us grow together as a team. It gave us this kindred spirit of it didn’t matter what your beliefs were or where you were from. Everybody was rooting for him. We all wanted what was best for him.”
By the time the Sugar Bowl rolled around, Mitch had built up enough immunity that his doctors allowed him to go to the game. He remembers it was around Halloween when he was told that he was in remission and that it was just a matter of time before the tumor would be gone. The Friends of Jaclyn Foundation paid for him and his family to travel to New Orleans, and he was allowed to attend practices leading up the game.
So much happened during the 2009 season that was memorable, but nothing was more heartwarming than the story of the Bearcats’ relationship with Mitch Stone and his family.
“They gave me a lot of support that I needed at the time,” Mitch said. “I was like, ‘The football team’s got our back. There’s a way to get through this.’”
By Bill Koch
In 2009, Mitch Stone was 11 years old, a fifth-grader and straight A student at Maddux Elementary School in the suburban Forest Hills School District east of Cincinnati. He started to have headaches in February and was getting sick for no apparent reason. When he came home from school one day his mom noticed that his right eye looked different. It seemed to be turned inward.
“I couldn’t control it,” Mitch said. “I didn’t know it was happening, so we called the doctor. That’s when they found the (brain) tumor. Three days later I underwent surgery.”
In July, Mitch and his family were approached by the Cincinnati football team about being “adopted” by the Bearcats under the auspices of the Friends of Jaclyn Foundation.
At first Mitch was reluctant to get involved. He didn’t like the way he looked and didn’t want a lot of attention while going through such a trying time. But his family, especially his identical twin brother, Nick, talked him into it.
“They said this would be an amazing opportunity,” Mitch said. “I was a big Bearcat fan, but I had a lot going on at the time. Nick was like, ‘Man, you’ve got to do this. This can be so cool. Just think, we’ll get to hang out with the players and go on the field.’”
Mitch’s radiologist first reached out to him with the adoption idea, but it originated with Ernest Jones, the Bearcats’ director of player services. Jones had heard about the Friends of Jaclyn Foundation, which is dedicated to improving the quality of life for children diagnosed with brain tumors by matching the child with a college or high school sports team. When he consulted with doctors and nurses at Cincinnati Children’s Hospital, they suggested Mitch.
Jones presented the idea to UC coach Brian Kelly, who was all for it. His players also were overwhelmingly in favor of it. They met Mitch and put together an adoption “ceremony” to make it official. The Bearcats thus became the first college football team in the country to become involved in the program. Mitch’s Mission was born. Everyone in the Cincinnati football program, from the coaches on down, wore a red, white and blue bracelet with the words “Mitch’s Mission” written on it.
“It was amazing,” Stone said. “I went to campus after a summer practice and they took me and my family into the team room. They did an introduction and told me we’re happy to have you on our team. They were kind of swarming in around me and they gave me a lot of swag, a lot of cool stuff that Nick could wear too. It was really a good way for me to get my mind off the constant treatment that I was going through at the time. I went to a few practices during the summer, but that was during the period when I was receiving chemotherapy, so that made it very difficult to go to a lot of practices.
“During the fall, I was still undergoing the chemotherapy. I would be in the hospital for three weeks receiving treatment and then they would let me out for a week. I went to a game during that time and I got to go up to one of the coaches’ boxes and sat with them and their families, and my family was allowed to join us. I got to watch a lot of games. That was really special, being a fan of Bearcat football my entire life.”
It was even more special because the Bearcats kept winning week after week. By the end of the season, they had put together the best season in Cincinnati football history, and Mitch was a big part of it. He was allowed to go into the locker room before games, just before the Bearcats took the field. He marveled at the surroundings and at how emotionally fired up the Bearcats were.
Because of his low white blood cell count, there were times when Mitch wasn’t allowed to see many people, so the Cincinnati players chipped in $5 apiece to buy him a pre-paid cell phone with a monthly plan so he could stay in touch with them. If he was having a bad day, Mitch could call a player. And they could call and text him.
UC wide receiver Mardy Gilyard would call periodically just to shoot the breeze and ask how school was going. Defensive lineman Ricardo Mathews called and sang Happy Birthday over the phone. Mitch appreciated every call, every text, but he grew especially close to running back John Goebel. They would pray together before games and became friends. Several years later Goebel invited Mitch and his family to his wedding.
“When Mitch and his family came, that was right in line with everything the guys were about,” Goebel said. “We gave him a standing ovation. A lot of our guys, we could relate. It was a lot of guys who weren’t getting everything on a silver platter. They weren’t getting scholarships to Ohio State. They had to earn everything they had.
“We knew right away there was something different about this kid. I felt like he was going to be getting a lot of love from a lot of people, but I wanted to reach out to him and talk to him on a regular person level and get to know his family a little bit. I just wanted him to be able to see that and see that it’s not all Saturday with the lights on and wearing the uniform. Ninety-eight percent of it is a grind and having to work your butt off.”
Goebel was going though a tough time of his own, missing a big chunk of the season with a hamstring injury. Seeing what Mitch was going through provided him with badly needed perspective.
“Seeing him show up for games in the shape that he was in and knowing what he was going through, we were like, ‘It’s not too bad,’” Goebel said. “’I don’t have it too bad with my injuries.’ Yeah, it was very frustrating, but I was like, ‘Dude, you’re alive. You’re getting your education paid for. It could be a lot worse, and if this kid can do what he’s doing, then you can do what you’re doing.’
“There were times when he couldn’t show up because he wasn’t healthy enough and it would be bad for him to be in front of everybody. It kind of weighs on you heavy. It helped us grow together as a team. It gave us this kindred spirit of it didn’t matter what your beliefs were or where you were from. Everybody was rooting for him. We all wanted what was best for him.”
By the time the Sugar Bowl rolled around, Mitch had built up enough immunity that his doctors allowed him to go to the game. He remembers it was around Halloween when he was told that he was in remission and that it was just a matter of time before the tumor would be gone. The Friends of Jaclyn Foundation paid for him and his family to travel to New Orleans, and he was allowed to attend practices leading up the game.
So much happened during the 2009 season that was memorable, but nothing was more heartwarming than the story of the Bearcats’ relationship with Mitch Stone and his family.
“They gave me a lot of support that I needed at the time,” Mitch said. “I was like, ‘The football team’s got our back. There’s a way to get through this.’”
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