Kansas State University Athletics
SE: In His Own Words — Keep Surviving
May 12, 2019 | Football, Sports Extra
By Skylar Thompson
Many times in my life I have asked why? Why me?
I have been at rock bottom, in a pit of darkness. I have questioned myself, my self-worth and my purpose more times than you can imagine. At times, rock bottom has seemed inevitable and inescapable.
Everyone may have their own meaning for rock bottom, but here is what it means to me and what it has taught me.
Rock bottom is my foundation. There is no better foundation I could ever imagine building my life upon because the only direction I can go from there is up.
Rock bottom has taught me how to truly fight, for myself and for the people I truly love. It has instilled a passion in my heart that no hardship will ever stop me from achieving my goals and loving those people.
Rock bottom is the reason why I point to the sky after every touchdown, why I write "JWT" and "MOM" on my cleats, and why no darkness has ever stopped me from finding the light.
Rock bottom is Mother's Day, a reminder of both the worst and best days of my life, a reminder that loss can add to our lives as much as it can take away.
***
My mother, Teresa Lynn Thompson, was diagnosed with stage-four breast cancer when I was 6 years old. I still remember my dad telling me the news for the first time. Protecting me and my heart, he just told me that my mom was very sick.
But my mom didn't have long to live.
The doctors said that chemotherapy was practically pointless. Though it still was an option for her, the doctors advised that she would be better off living out the rest of her life peacefully.
Giving up wasn't an option for my mom, though. She chose to fight. Not only for herself, but for the people that she loved.
My mother was one of a kind. A lot of people tell me that I was her everything and that I was a huge momma's boy. At the time, my dad was a principal at Palmyra High School in northeast Missouri, so there were a lot of nights during the week where it was just my mom and me at home.
During her chemotherapy, my mom and dad traveled across the United States to receive the best treatment possible for her. For a while, she received her chemotherapy at the Cancer Treatment Center of America in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Though I don't remember much from the trips down there with my older brother, Eric, and older sister, Ashley, I do remember that I wasn't a big fan of the hospital food. (Their mac-n-cheese was nothing like what mom made at home.)
Throughout this heart-wrenching process, I vividly remember my mom never displaying any signs of weakness. It killed her for me to see her in that condition, but she always displayed a great deal of strength, even when she was so weak.
When she returned home from Tulsa, she had lost all her hair. She always tried her best to hide that from me by wearing a wig or cap to cover up her head, although one day I walked into her room and saw her with nothing covering her head.
My mom was devastated.
At this very moment, I knew something was seriously wrong. But, of course, she went along like she was perfectly fine and told me she was just going for a new look. So, of course, I believed her. I remember joking around and wearing her different wigs with her and singing "Hey Ya!" by Outkast in her bathroom. That is how we celebrated her new look.
Through the toughest stretch of her life, she always knew how to put a smile on my face and made me feel like the most special boy on Earth.
As the time went on, my mother kept getting worse and worse. She could barely walk or even talk, but still I had no idea what I was in store for. On the morning of May 11, 2004, I walked into her room to kiss her goodbye before I left to go to my cousin's house. Little did I know, this was a kiss goodbye that I would end up cherishing forever. My mother ended up passing away later that day, two days after Mother's Day, less than a month before my seventh birthday.
Once I received the news, my body became instantly weak. I dropped to my knees. I cried for hours upon hours. It felt as if my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I couldn't believe that my best friend, my rock, and my everything was no longer with me.
As I sat in my basement that night, my family gathered around as we mourned over the loss of my mom. Just like everyone else, I had so many questions. I just kept thinking to myself…Why me? Why is this happening to me? Why my mom?
I didn't do anything to deserve this.
***
Losing my mom was the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life. But the pain was made even worse by the loss of my grandpa, John Walter Thompson, just seven months before on October 23, 2003, to pancreatic cancer.
He was diagnosed in February of 2003. Like my mother's cancer, his was caught at a very late stage. The doctors labeled it as terminal. There was no cure; the only treatment available was to lighten his pain.
He was a very strong, loving and caring man, from what I remember and from what my family tells me. Giving up wasn't going to be an option for my grandpa. He fought and battled for his life. Not just for himself, but for the people that he loved.
My grandpa was also a K-Stater. He was a graduate assistant coach under Cotton Fitzsimmons in 1970 when they won the Big Eight Championship. My father was born in Lafene Health Center in 1969. They lived in the old brick apartments that once stood where the Jardine Apartments are now, near campus.
When my grandpa passed away, each of my family members took something of his that they wanted to keep. My Uncle Blair chose to take his Big Eight Championship ring, which everyone says my grandpa wore everywhere. He had to get it refurbished on multiple occasions because he wore it so much. Recently, my Uncle Blair mailed the ring to me. He told me that I should have it and that it belongs to me now. This was a special moment.
That ring reminds me that my grandpa's love and passion for Kansas State ran deep.
He carried this same passion for his family.
Throughout his pain relief therapy, my family visited him at his home in Jefferson City often. He always had a smile on his face and displayed no signs of weakness. He wasn't going to let his circumstances keep him from being a great father, brother and grandfather. He would always find a way to play with me, whether it was board games, shooting hoops or playing catch.
One time, during my first basketball season in October of 2003, I remember lacing up my Air Jordan's by the bench before a game and when I looked up, I saw my grandpa walking into the gym. Hooked up to an oxygen tank and all, there he was. This was the last game my grandpa would ever make it to.
He ended up passing away a couple of weeks later.
Like with my mother, I was at an age where I didn't know my grandpa's life was ticking away every second I was with him. I never imagined losing him or prepared myself for what life would even look like without him in it.
A scar was left on my heart the day he passed away. Two weeks later, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.
That scar would not be alone for long.
***
As time went on after my mother passed, there came a night where my dad and I sat at the dinner table together, just staring at one another. Both confused about what was next. I remember looking at my dad and saying, "Well, what do we do now, Dad?"
This was the start to a relationship with my father that will be forever unbreakable.
My dad and I learned a lot about ourselves during this time. I think my dad, who lost his father and wife in just a seven-month span, learned more about himself than anything else. (I say that with all the love in the world, of course.)
I share a lot of great memories with my dad during this time. Anyone who knows my dad knows that he loves to grill. I think that is the only thing he knew how to cook at the time. So, at least four days a week we ate steak or grilled chicken for dinner, and the other three we ate Hardee's, Wendy's, or Subway on rotation (the only three fast food restaurants in Palmyra).
We also loved listening to music together. Music, in a way, helped us get through this tough stretch in our lives. We would pick out a CD and just roll through it until we got tired of it. Then we'd move on to another.
I specifically remember us burning through Eminem's greatest hits CD. Singing isn't my dad's strong suit, but I always will respect his efforts. We'd get into his truck and turn it up all the way and just sing our lungs out.
One song I vividly remember us listening to was "Mockingbird." When Eminem said, "But it's just something we have no control over, and that's what destiny is. But no more worries, rest your head and go to sleep. Maybe one day we'll wake up and this will all be a dream," that just hit us different.
A lot of Eminem's music just touched us and inspired us to keep fighting, and to never let the given circumstances define us — reasons why Eminem is one of my favorite artists to listen to before games.
During this time, my dad did a great job of keeping me busy and surrounding me with family who he always says helped raise me.
Eventually, this meant dating Katherine Ann Burns, who soon became my beautiful stepmother. A little further down the road, Kathy and my Dad had my little brother, Anthony, one of the biggest blessings that I have ever been granted. Anthony and I are 10 years apart, but you'd never know it by how close we are. We communicate daily, and I promise you'll never find a bigger K-State fan. He is a special kid. I am so proud to call him my little brother.
I feel the same way about Kathy. I dislike labeling her as my stepmother because she is the closest person to my mom that is on this Earth. Our relationship is very special. She stepped into my life knowing the circumstances and wasn't scared at all. She loved me unconditionally, and at that time in my life, I needed to be loved more than anything.
After they married, Kathy and my dad decided it was best for us to move to a new location for a fresh start. So, my dad took a job as the freshmen center principal at Fort Osage High School in Independence, Missouri. Although this transition was very hard and scary for me to make, they knew it was best for me at the time.
Before we moved there, however, I asked my dad for one promise.
"If we move to Kansas City, you have to let me play football."
***
My family always surrounded me with sports. There were no action figures or toys in my play bin; just footballs, basketballs and baseballs.
But that's all I needed.
Ever since I knew what a ball was, I knew I wanted to make something special out of my love for sports. As I got older and more cognizant of things, I knew I wanted to play sports in college and, if I was fortunate enough, play professionally. This was my dream.
Soon after my dad fulfilled his promise, I discovered that football was the ticket to my dream.
Ironically, during my first year of football, I played offensive line.
The next year, I was in fifth grade and my coach, Rich Divers, asked the team at one of our first practices if anyone wanted to play quarterback. Nobody raised their hand or stepped forward, so I did. (No offense to all the guys that have kept me upright in my career but butting heads and hitting people daily was not for me.)
Everything took off from there. This is when I developed a love for the game of football that most will never be able to understand.
I discovered that football was my escape. Whenever I was having flashes of rock bottom and was missing my mom, football was there. The football field was a place that allowed me to be free from the world and to just play ball, something I have loved since day one.
The more I played quarterback, I realized that I had a special feel for the position. So, I took it and ran with it. I set goals for myself, both short and long term. I put boxes next to them so I could check them off as I achieved them and never look back.
My first year playing quarterback, I led my Independence Indians team to the Pop Warner National Championships. A couple of years later, I led my eighth-grade team to an undefeated season.
But this was just the beginning.
In my sophomore and junior seasons of high school, I was part of undefeated teams that suffered heartbreaking losses in the playoffs. But, little did people know, a heartbreaking loss was nothing knew to me. I knew something greater was in store.
I began getting recruited by multiple Division I schools during my sophomore season. The process stretched through my junior season and spring. This was a very stressful time for both my dad and me. As I felt my dad try to shoulder most of the stress, I reminded him that I would take care of it and for him not to worry. I knew the right school would come and offer me, eventually.
After much patience, late in the spring of my junior year, along came that school… Kansas State University.
My dad and I always had an eye out for this school, my grandpa's school. Every time we left from a visit, there was just something about K-State that separated themselves from other universities. (Plus, my mom's favorite color was purple, so that was in the back of my mind as well.)
Given my past, family has always been my everything, and each time I was in Manhattan, I felt it. The family atmosphere wasn't just something people said around town. The people lived by it and made me feel like family from the very beginning.
So, on May 11, 2015, a day after Mother's Day, on the anniversary of my mother's death, my family gathered around a table as we spoke to Bill Snyder on an unofficial visit.
Coming into the visit, I was pretty well set on committing to Kansas State. I just wanted to do it the right way. I wanted my family be there, I wanted them by my side when I made this decision. After Coach Snyder spoke, for what seemed like hours, about why I should choose Kansas State University, I finally interrupted him and told him I wanted to be a Wildcat.
As the coaches and my family began to celebrate my verbal commitment, I looked across the table and saw a tear fall down my dad's face for the first time in my life. He just smiled at me.
On the same day that my mother had passed away 11 years before, we had made my dream come true.
The following fall, my senior season, I helped lead Fort Osage to the school's first state title in football. The playoff run was unforgettable; we won the championship game, 63-21. I walked away with a 35-3 record as a starter, multiple state records, several prestigious awards and a scholarship to play at Kansas State University.
All the boxes that once lied empty on my goal sheet had been filled.
***
After I committed to Kansas State in the spring of my junior year, June 4, 2015 rolled around…my 18th birthday.
My family and I were celebrating that night, and, after dinner, my Dad and Kathy gave me a gift that came in a tiny little box. In that box was a gold roped chain that had something attached on it.
It was the wedding ring that my mom gave my dad.
I have worn this necklace every single day since then. It very rarely comes off my neck. It's a simple reminder that my mom is with me everywhere I go. Even though she isn't physically present, all it takes is a quick look down to my neck to realize she is still here, she is still with me. No matter what. She is always with me.
So is the strength she left me.
I was reminded of this after a spring practice this year, when Coach Klieman said something that really hit home.
"What are you going to do when adversity strikes? The great teams and people know how to survive adversity, not even win, but just survive it. The average or below-average teams and people let adversity destroy them."
I have lived by this quote my entire life.
All I ever did and continue to do is try to survive every day. I refuse to let adversity destroy me because I know there are lessons to be learned or something to be gained from every hardship. So, instead of backing down and fearing adversity, I've learned to buckle down and embrace it.
Because I know in the long run, I will survive.
I don't share my story to receive credit for what I have overcome or for what I have achieved. I share my story because I know there are people out in this world who are hurting, who are hopeless, and who are questioning their purpose in life. And I hope my story can help.
What I will say is this: It doesn't matter how much adversity you are presented with, adversity doesn't have to destroy you.
There's been many times in my life where adversity has defeated me. Not destroyed. But I have been defeated more times than you could imagine.
There's a difference between the two.
When adversity destroys you, you give up. You stop fighting for what you love and who you love.
When adversity defeats you, you have an option to get back up and keep fighting, just like in a football game. I can be defeated nine plays in a row, but if I get back up and keep fighting, that 10th play could go for a touchdown.
Adversity is part of life. It is going to knock you down, and as soon as you think you are back on your feet, it will knock you right back down again. Life is all about getting up that 10th time.
I will always choose to get back up and keep fighting. You can, too.
If you do that…adversity will never destroy you. You will always win because of the spirit and passion that is instilled in your heart by getting back up and fighting every single day.
That is the ultimate victory.
***
I hope my story provides you with an understanding of who I am underneath my jersey, what the necklace around my neck means to me, and what the last name "Thompson" symbolizes on the back of my jersey. I hope you can see my passion for this game on the field, and that I play not only for myself but for the people that I love.
That includes you all. There is truly no better feeling than running out of the tunnel in Bill Snyder Family Stadium alongside my teammates in front of 50,000 people with the support from the best fans in the nation.
For that, thank you K-State Nation, for giving me the opportunity to live out my dream every single day. You always remind me to keep surviving.
Now, every game day when the crowd is going crazy, I can't help but take a step back, look up into the sky and just smile. Even though my mom and grandpa aren't in the stands, I know they have the best seats in the house.
To the special people in my tight-knit circle who I love so very much, my Dad, Kathy and the rest of you, thank you. Thank you for the unconditional love and support you've given me throughout my entire life.
Grandpa John, I know you are wearing your purple loud and proud up in heaven. I feel your presence every game day. Even though you are no longer with me, I try to resemble the person you are every day by the way I live life. I love you and miss you very much.
Last, but not least, Mom, thank you.
The way that you have instilled yourself in my heart gives me hope, gives me life, and puts a smile on my face every single day. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you and the love you gave me during your short time with me. I would give anything to just talk to you, hug you, or to give you a kiss on the cheek one more time. I know you are with me in everything I do and everywhere I go. No matter the mistakes I make. No matter how many times I fail. You always remind me to get back up and keep surviving. I love you and miss you very much, Mom.
Happy Mother's Day.
Many times in my life I have asked why? Why me?
I have been at rock bottom, in a pit of darkness. I have questioned myself, my self-worth and my purpose more times than you can imagine. At times, rock bottom has seemed inevitable and inescapable.
Everyone may have their own meaning for rock bottom, but here is what it means to me and what it has taught me.
Rock bottom is my foundation. There is no better foundation I could ever imagine building my life upon because the only direction I can go from there is up.
Rock bottom has taught me how to truly fight, for myself and for the people I truly love. It has instilled a passion in my heart that no hardship will ever stop me from achieving my goals and loving those people.
Rock bottom is the reason why I point to the sky after every touchdown, why I write "JWT" and "MOM" on my cleats, and why no darkness has ever stopped me from finding the light.
Rock bottom is Mother's Day, a reminder of both the worst and best days of my life, a reminder that loss can add to our lives as much as it can take away.
***
My mother, Teresa Lynn Thompson, was diagnosed with stage-four breast cancer when I was 6 years old. I still remember my dad telling me the news for the first time. Protecting me and my heart, he just told me that my mom was very sick.
But my mom didn't have long to live.
The doctors said that chemotherapy was practically pointless. Though it still was an option for her, the doctors advised that she would be better off living out the rest of her life peacefully.
Giving up wasn't an option for my mom, though. She chose to fight. Not only for herself, but for the people that she loved.
My mother was one of a kind. A lot of people tell me that I was her everything and that I was a huge momma's boy. At the time, my dad was a principal at Palmyra High School in northeast Missouri, so there were a lot of nights during the week where it was just my mom and me at home.
During her chemotherapy, my mom and dad traveled across the United States to receive the best treatment possible for her. For a while, she received her chemotherapy at the Cancer Treatment Center of America in Tulsa, Oklahoma. Though I don't remember much from the trips down there with my older brother, Eric, and older sister, Ashley, I do remember that I wasn't a big fan of the hospital food. (Their mac-n-cheese was nothing like what mom made at home.)
Throughout this heart-wrenching process, I vividly remember my mom never displaying any signs of weakness. It killed her for me to see her in that condition, but she always displayed a great deal of strength, even when she was so weak.
When she returned home from Tulsa, she had lost all her hair. She always tried her best to hide that from me by wearing a wig or cap to cover up her head, although one day I walked into her room and saw her with nothing covering her head.
My mom was devastated.
At this very moment, I knew something was seriously wrong. But, of course, she went along like she was perfectly fine and told me she was just going for a new look. So, of course, I believed her. I remember joking around and wearing her different wigs with her and singing "Hey Ya!" by Outkast in her bathroom. That is how we celebrated her new look.
Through the toughest stretch of her life, she always knew how to put a smile on my face and made me feel like the most special boy on Earth.
As the time went on, my mother kept getting worse and worse. She could barely walk or even talk, but still I had no idea what I was in store for. On the morning of May 11, 2004, I walked into her room to kiss her goodbye before I left to go to my cousin's house. Little did I know, this was a kiss goodbye that I would end up cherishing forever. My mother ended up passing away later that day, two days after Mother's Day, less than a month before my seventh birthday.
Once I received the news, my body became instantly weak. I dropped to my knees. I cried for hours upon hours. It felt as if my heart was being ripped out of my chest. I couldn't wrap my mind around it. I couldn't believe that my best friend, my rock, and my everything was no longer with me.
As I sat in my basement that night, my family gathered around as we mourned over the loss of my mom. Just like everyone else, I had so many questions. I just kept thinking to myself…Why me? Why is this happening to me? Why my mom?
I didn't do anything to deserve this.
***
Losing my mom was the worst pain I have ever experienced in my life. But the pain was made even worse by the loss of my grandpa, John Walter Thompson, just seven months before on October 23, 2003, to pancreatic cancer.
He was diagnosed in February of 2003. Like my mother's cancer, his was caught at a very late stage. The doctors labeled it as terminal. There was no cure; the only treatment available was to lighten his pain.
He was a very strong, loving and caring man, from what I remember and from what my family tells me. Giving up wasn't going to be an option for my grandpa. He fought and battled for his life. Not just for himself, but for the people that he loved.
My grandpa was also a K-Stater. He was a graduate assistant coach under Cotton Fitzsimmons in 1970 when they won the Big Eight Championship. My father was born in Lafene Health Center in 1969. They lived in the old brick apartments that once stood where the Jardine Apartments are now, near campus.
When my grandpa passed away, each of my family members took something of his that they wanted to keep. My Uncle Blair chose to take his Big Eight Championship ring, which everyone says my grandpa wore everywhere. He had to get it refurbished on multiple occasions because he wore it so much. Recently, my Uncle Blair mailed the ring to me. He told me that I should have it and that it belongs to me now. This was a special moment.
That ring reminds me that my grandpa's love and passion for Kansas State ran deep.
He carried this same passion for his family.
Throughout his pain relief therapy, my family visited him at his home in Jefferson City often. He always had a smile on his face and displayed no signs of weakness. He wasn't going to let his circumstances keep him from being a great father, brother and grandfather. He would always find a way to play with me, whether it was board games, shooting hoops or playing catch.
One time, during my first basketball season in October of 2003, I remember lacing up my Air Jordan's by the bench before a game and when I looked up, I saw my grandpa walking into the gym. Hooked up to an oxygen tank and all, there he was. This was the last game my grandpa would ever make it to.
He ended up passing away a couple of weeks later.
Like with my mother, I was at an age where I didn't know my grandpa's life was ticking away every second I was with him. I never imagined losing him or prepared myself for what life would even look like without him in it.
A scar was left on my heart the day he passed away. Two weeks later, my mom was diagnosed with breast cancer.
That scar would not be alone for long.
***
As time went on after my mother passed, there came a night where my dad and I sat at the dinner table together, just staring at one another. Both confused about what was next. I remember looking at my dad and saying, "Well, what do we do now, Dad?"
This was the start to a relationship with my father that will be forever unbreakable.
My dad and I learned a lot about ourselves during this time. I think my dad, who lost his father and wife in just a seven-month span, learned more about himself than anything else. (I say that with all the love in the world, of course.)
I share a lot of great memories with my dad during this time. Anyone who knows my dad knows that he loves to grill. I think that is the only thing he knew how to cook at the time. So, at least four days a week we ate steak or grilled chicken for dinner, and the other three we ate Hardee's, Wendy's, or Subway on rotation (the only three fast food restaurants in Palmyra).
We also loved listening to music together. Music, in a way, helped us get through this tough stretch in our lives. We would pick out a CD and just roll through it until we got tired of it. Then we'd move on to another.
I specifically remember us burning through Eminem's greatest hits CD. Singing isn't my dad's strong suit, but I always will respect his efforts. We'd get into his truck and turn it up all the way and just sing our lungs out.
One song I vividly remember us listening to was "Mockingbird." When Eminem said, "But it's just something we have no control over, and that's what destiny is. But no more worries, rest your head and go to sleep. Maybe one day we'll wake up and this will all be a dream," that just hit us different.
A lot of Eminem's music just touched us and inspired us to keep fighting, and to never let the given circumstances define us — reasons why Eminem is one of my favorite artists to listen to before games.
During this time, my dad did a great job of keeping me busy and surrounding me with family who he always says helped raise me.
Eventually, this meant dating Katherine Ann Burns, who soon became my beautiful stepmother. A little further down the road, Kathy and my Dad had my little brother, Anthony, one of the biggest blessings that I have ever been granted. Anthony and I are 10 years apart, but you'd never know it by how close we are. We communicate daily, and I promise you'll never find a bigger K-State fan. He is a special kid. I am so proud to call him my little brother.
I feel the same way about Kathy. I dislike labeling her as my stepmother because she is the closest person to my mom that is on this Earth. Our relationship is very special. She stepped into my life knowing the circumstances and wasn't scared at all. She loved me unconditionally, and at that time in my life, I needed to be loved more than anything.
After they married, Kathy and my dad decided it was best for us to move to a new location for a fresh start. So, my dad took a job as the freshmen center principal at Fort Osage High School in Independence, Missouri. Although this transition was very hard and scary for me to make, they knew it was best for me at the time.
Before we moved there, however, I asked my dad for one promise.
"If we move to Kansas City, you have to let me play football."
***
My family always surrounded me with sports. There were no action figures or toys in my play bin; just footballs, basketballs and baseballs.
But that's all I needed.
Ever since I knew what a ball was, I knew I wanted to make something special out of my love for sports. As I got older and more cognizant of things, I knew I wanted to play sports in college and, if I was fortunate enough, play professionally. This was my dream.
Soon after my dad fulfilled his promise, I discovered that football was the ticket to my dream.
Ironically, during my first year of football, I played offensive line.
The next year, I was in fifth grade and my coach, Rich Divers, asked the team at one of our first practices if anyone wanted to play quarterback. Nobody raised their hand or stepped forward, so I did. (No offense to all the guys that have kept me upright in my career but butting heads and hitting people daily was not for me.)
Everything took off from there. This is when I developed a love for the game of football that most will never be able to understand.
I discovered that football was my escape. Whenever I was having flashes of rock bottom and was missing my mom, football was there. The football field was a place that allowed me to be free from the world and to just play ball, something I have loved since day one.
The more I played quarterback, I realized that I had a special feel for the position. So, I took it and ran with it. I set goals for myself, both short and long term. I put boxes next to them so I could check them off as I achieved them and never look back.
My first year playing quarterback, I led my Independence Indians team to the Pop Warner National Championships. A couple of years later, I led my eighth-grade team to an undefeated season.
But this was just the beginning.
In my sophomore and junior seasons of high school, I was part of undefeated teams that suffered heartbreaking losses in the playoffs. But, little did people know, a heartbreaking loss was nothing knew to me. I knew something greater was in store.
I began getting recruited by multiple Division I schools during my sophomore season. The process stretched through my junior season and spring. This was a very stressful time for both my dad and me. As I felt my dad try to shoulder most of the stress, I reminded him that I would take care of it and for him not to worry. I knew the right school would come and offer me, eventually.
After much patience, late in the spring of my junior year, along came that school… Kansas State University.
My dad and I always had an eye out for this school, my grandpa's school. Every time we left from a visit, there was just something about K-State that separated themselves from other universities. (Plus, my mom's favorite color was purple, so that was in the back of my mind as well.)
Given my past, family has always been my everything, and each time I was in Manhattan, I felt it. The family atmosphere wasn't just something people said around town. The people lived by it and made me feel like family from the very beginning.
So, on May 11, 2015, a day after Mother's Day, on the anniversary of my mother's death, my family gathered around a table as we spoke to Bill Snyder on an unofficial visit.
Coming into the visit, I was pretty well set on committing to Kansas State. I just wanted to do it the right way. I wanted my family be there, I wanted them by my side when I made this decision. After Coach Snyder spoke, for what seemed like hours, about why I should choose Kansas State University, I finally interrupted him and told him I wanted to be a Wildcat.
As the coaches and my family began to celebrate my verbal commitment, I looked across the table and saw a tear fall down my dad's face for the first time in my life. He just smiled at me.
On the same day that my mother had passed away 11 years before, we had made my dream come true.
The following fall, my senior season, I helped lead Fort Osage to the school's first state title in football. The playoff run was unforgettable; we won the championship game, 63-21. I walked away with a 35-3 record as a starter, multiple state records, several prestigious awards and a scholarship to play at Kansas State University.
All the boxes that once lied empty on my goal sheet had been filled.
***
After I committed to Kansas State in the spring of my junior year, June 4, 2015 rolled around…my 18th birthday.
My family and I were celebrating that night, and, after dinner, my Dad and Kathy gave me a gift that came in a tiny little box. In that box was a gold roped chain that had something attached on it.
It was the wedding ring that my mom gave my dad.
I have worn this necklace every single day since then. It very rarely comes off my neck. It's a simple reminder that my mom is with me everywhere I go. Even though she isn't physically present, all it takes is a quick look down to my neck to realize she is still here, she is still with me. No matter what. She is always with me.
So is the strength she left me.
I was reminded of this after a spring practice this year, when Coach Klieman said something that really hit home.
"What are you going to do when adversity strikes? The great teams and people know how to survive adversity, not even win, but just survive it. The average or below-average teams and people let adversity destroy them."
I have lived by this quote my entire life.
All I ever did and continue to do is try to survive every day. I refuse to let adversity destroy me because I know there are lessons to be learned or something to be gained from every hardship. So, instead of backing down and fearing adversity, I've learned to buckle down and embrace it.
Because I know in the long run, I will survive.
I don't share my story to receive credit for what I have overcome or for what I have achieved. I share my story because I know there are people out in this world who are hurting, who are hopeless, and who are questioning their purpose in life. And I hope my story can help.
What I will say is this: It doesn't matter how much adversity you are presented with, adversity doesn't have to destroy you.
There's been many times in my life where adversity has defeated me. Not destroyed. But I have been defeated more times than you could imagine.
There's a difference between the two.
When adversity destroys you, you give up. You stop fighting for what you love and who you love.
When adversity defeats you, you have an option to get back up and keep fighting, just like in a football game. I can be defeated nine plays in a row, but if I get back up and keep fighting, that 10th play could go for a touchdown.
Adversity is part of life. It is going to knock you down, and as soon as you think you are back on your feet, it will knock you right back down again. Life is all about getting up that 10th time.
I will always choose to get back up and keep fighting. You can, too.
If you do that…adversity will never destroy you. You will always win because of the spirit and passion that is instilled in your heart by getting back up and fighting every single day.
That is the ultimate victory.
***
I hope my story provides you with an understanding of who I am underneath my jersey, what the necklace around my neck means to me, and what the last name "Thompson" symbolizes on the back of my jersey. I hope you can see my passion for this game on the field, and that I play not only for myself but for the people that I love.
That includes you all. There is truly no better feeling than running out of the tunnel in Bill Snyder Family Stadium alongside my teammates in front of 50,000 people with the support from the best fans in the nation.
For that, thank you K-State Nation, for giving me the opportunity to live out my dream every single day. You always remind me to keep surviving.
Now, every game day when the crowd is going crazy, I can't help but take a step back, look up into the sky and just smile. Even though my mom and grandpa aren't in the stands, I know they have the best seats in the house.
To the special people in my tight-knit circle who I love so very much, my Dad, Kathy and the rest of you, thank you. Thank you for the unconditional love and support you've given me throughout my entire life.
Grandpa John, I know you are wearing your purple loud and proud up in heaven. I feel your presence every game day. Even though you are no longer with me, I try to resemble the person you are every day by the way I live life. I love you and miss you very much.
Last, but not least, Mom, thank you.
The way that you have instilled yourself in my heart gives me hope, gives me life, and puts a smile on my face every single day. There isn't a day that goes by that I don't think about you and the love you gave me during your short time with me. I would give anything to just talk to you, hug you, or to give you a kiss on the cheek one more time. I know you are with me in everything I do and everywhere I go. No matter the mistakes I make. No matter how many times I fail. You always remind me to get back up and keep surviving. I love you and miss you very much, Mom.
Happy Mother's Day.
Players Mentioned
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