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College Center Fielder is Shining Example of “Ya Gotta Believe”

Matt Lawson is an inspiration – as a standout center fielder, as the captain of his team, and in his recently acquired role of brain tumor patient.  Despite his diagnosis, Matt is unrelenting in his spirit and his courage.  He is leaving a mark of strength on his team, his coach, and the world around him as he provides a living example thoe words: “Ya Gotta Believe.”

“Matt is an inspiration to all of us because of his courage in the face of adversity,” says his baseball coach from UC San Diego, Dan O’Brien.  “He's decided to live his life, play the game he loves, and not concern himself with things that are out of his control.  His courage has been contagious to his teammates, coaches, and all those who have had the opportunity to meet him. “ 

O’Brien is quick to note the impact Lawson has had on the team as they enter the finals in the NCAA Division II baseball tournament.  “I truly believe that we are having one of the best years in our program's history because of Matt's inspiration as our team captain.  He leads by example every day."

Profiles in Courage: Matt Lawson

UCSD Center Fielder Battles Recent Seizures,
Wants to Keep Playing

By TIM SULLIVAN, The San Diego Union-Tribune

Posted Wednesday, May 16, 2007

Matt Lawson
Courtesy: Jimmy Gekas/UCSD Sports Information

Matt Lawson's brain tumor is called Melvin. His theme song is, “Live Like You're Dying.” UCSD's standout senior center fielder will need permission to play in the Tritons' first-ever NCAA Division II baseball tournament game tomorrow night, but he will not need counseling, catharsis, perspective or pity.

He is already at peace with his plight, quick with a joke and slow to stress. He still doesn't know whether his tumor is benign or malignant, and he's in no hurry to find out. If the seizures would stop, he'd be good to go.

“It doesn't look good when your neurologist says, 'I can't clear you to play,' ” Lawson said yesterday afternoon. “I'm just going to have to tell them, 'This could be one of my last games ever, and it's the playoffs.' I've worked this hard to get this far. I'm willing to take the risk.”
Three times during last week's CCAA Tournament in Los Angeles, Lawson was struck with partial seizures that caused him to be temporarily disoriented, to lose short-term memory, to twitch involuntarily and to swallow repeatedly. He felt the first one upon stepping out of the shower Thursday morning, wondered what he was doing in a hotel room, but recovered to smash two doubles in a 7-2 victory over Cal State L.A.

Lawson experienced a second seizure afterward, and sat out one game, but he was back in center field before Friday's game against Sonoma State when he was struck again while warming up.

“By the time the trainer and the coach were halfway out to me, I clicked out of it,” Lawson said. “I said, 'I'm fine. Let's play ball.' But they didn't buy it. The trainer asked, 'What team are we playing?' I said, 'I know it starts with an 'S.' ”
Seeking clearance to play in the NCAA tournament, Lawson met yesterday morning with neurologist Dr. Dee Silver in the Scripps medical building overlooking Triton Field. When he appeared at practice, his hair was still sticky from the gel used in an EEG. He left the ballpark, without participating in the team's drills, to pick up a new prescription and to plead his case to the school's training staff.

Late yesterday, UCSD coach Dan O'Brien said no decision had been reached on Lawson's status for tomorrow night's tournament opener against Mesa State, but both the coach and the player recognize the university is inclined toward caution. Though Lawson says he is willing to sign a waiver that would absolve UCSD in the event he is injured, O'Brien says the school's responsibility extends beyond its legal liability.

“I think there's an outside chance he'll play this weekend,” O'Brien said. “But I think it's going to be a tough call. Basically, everyone is trying to figure out what is in Matt's best interest. . . . The bottom line is the neurologist has some concerns about him playing.”

Because of recent seizures, Matt Lawson might not be allowed to play for UCSD in the NCAA Division II tournament.
NELVIN CEPEDA / Union-Tribune
Because of recent seizures, Matt Lawson might not be allowed to play for UCSD in the NCAA Division II tournament.

O'Brien's concerns are that ballplayers must sometimes be protected from themselves; that they are prone to say anything that will keep them in the lineup; and that, worst case, Lawson could have another seizure with a fastball flying toward his head.

Matt Lawson carries a .368 batting average and an extraordinary glove, but his talent will have little bearing on whether he is permitted to play. O'Brien admits he was hard-pressed to concentrate on Thursday's game out of apprehension about his leadoff hitter.

“I love winning baseball games,” O'Brien said, “but I care more about the individuals on my team than I do about my players. I'd be lying to you if I said I'm not concerned about Matt's future.”

The remarkable thing about Matt Lawson is how little concern he shows about himself. A lot of 22-year-olds behave as if they're bulletproof, but few of them are blithe about a growth below their brain. Fewer still would personalize a tumor by giving it a name, or countenance cheers of “Let's go, Melvin,” as they approach home plate.

“Matty has the best attitude I've ever seen,” said UCSD catcher Chris Carl, a high school teammate of Lawson's in Yorba Linda and now his roommate. “When he's in the game, he's in the game and everything outside the gates is obsolete. He doesn't want people to be worrying about him.”

Lawson did not know he had anything worth worrying about until he suffered a grand mal seizure on March 26, 2006. He remembers watching the end of “Friends” with his girlfriend, Lauren Tylman, but not that his body shook, his eyes rolled back in his head or that he began to foam at the mouth.

“She saved my life,” Lawson said. “She had never seen anything like that before, but she handled everything right. She called the paramedics. She stayed calm. She knew to roll me over on my side so I didn't choke on saliva.

“The first time she talked to my parents, she found my parents' number on the cell phone. She said, 'This is your son's girlfriend. He's having a seizure.' ”

Matt Lawson remains on a day-to-day basis depending on the state of his seizures.
NELVIN CEPEDA / Union-Tribune
Matt Lawson (second from right) remains on a day-to-day basis depending on the state of his seizures.

When the paramedics arrived, Lawson struggled with them, shouting that he needed to get to baseball practice. When he reached the hospital, his temperature registered 105 degrees. When he awoke from his delirium, he saw his parents at his bedside and chided his mother for being overprotective. Then, he passed out again.

“In a way it's a blessing that I had that,” Lawson said, “because why else would I have an MRI on my brain unless I had a full-out seizure? They found a brain tumor in there, but it's so small right now that there's no need to do anything with it. In a way, even if turns malignant, it's not the worst thing because we'll know exactly when it happens. I have MRIs every three months.”

A biopsy could tell Lawson if “Melvin” is cancerous, but it might also impair his vision and weaken the muscles on his right side. He would rather postpone that procedure than risk a premature end to his ballplaying.

“The only thing I wish is that this isn't what ends my baseball career,” Lawson said. “Hopefully, baseball ends on my terms. Whether I'm good enough for the next level or not, hopefully I learn that because of me.”

O'Brien wonders if the tumor has made Lawson a better player by narrowing his focus and fueling his motivation. Lawson credits his father, Roger, for equipping him with a world view wider than himself.

“My dad is a PE teacher who worked with handicapped kids,” he said. “I'd come home 0-for-5, all mad, and he'd say, 'At least you can walk.' My dad always taught you'd better be thankful for what you do have and don't worry about what you don't.”

If Matt Lawson worries he is finished in college baseball, his fears are effectively disguised.

“I really do think I'm in there (tomorrow),” he said, “and the only reason is I refuse to think otherwise.”

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