Feb 5, 2016 6 min read

Luke Blanock has never wanted to be known as the kid with cancer.

He hasn’t wanted sympathy, nor has he allowed the diagnosis to change his determination.

Instead, during the 28 rounds of chemotherapy and 58 days of radiation treatments, Blanock wanted to be like every other teenager.

The Canon-McMillan senior wanted to experience scoring a point in a basketball game in front of his friends and family in a loud gymnasium, or to strike out an opposing batter on a crisp spring day.

Against all odds, he felt that exhilarating rush and has the precious memories of both. Blanock was diagnosed with Ewing’s sarcoma – a rare cancer that forms in the bone marrow and soft tissues – in December of 2013.

One year after doctors told him his athletic career was over, Blanock started and scored his first varsity points in Canon-McMillan’s basketball win over Burgettstown last season. Moments such as that are what kept Blanock smiling despite having every reason to hang his head in doubt.

“Sports were the thing that made me feel normal,” Blanock said. “Whenever I was able to play, I was going to play. That’s how it was for me with cancer and that’s how it was before I had cancer. Even if I wasn’t feeling 100 percent, which I guess I’ve never been back to 100 percent since I first got sick, at least I played. That’s all that matters.”

Moments in sports are what made last Saturday morning special for Blanock. The Pittsburgh Basketball Club honored him at its hall of fame banquet with a Courage Award and invited him to say a few words.

Blanock spoke eloquently to a large audience about how sports, family and hope have helped him through good days and bad. Though his athletic career is over, he’s needed the other two more than ever.

A large portion of Blanock’s left femur was removed last October to prevent a cancerous tumor from spreading. The surgery left him in a heavy brace and wheelchair for six weeks, and the family was hopeful his rehab would begin after his next scans. Results in late November showed the cancer had spread to multiple places on his spine, pelvis, lungs, ribs, lymph nodes, arm and right leg.

His diagnosis is terminal.

“It was absolutely devastating because you realize the implications of that and they were clear about it,” Kurt Blanock, Luke’s father, said. “They told him you are not going to get better. They told him that it is terminal and any treatment from this point forward is meant to control pain and prolong life a little bit.”

Since his initial diagnosis, Blanock has undergone 75 days of chemotherapy, 58 days of radiation in 10 different spots of his body, two surgeries and lost his hair three different times. Following his basketball season last winter, Blanock prepared to join the Big Macs’ baseball team, where he was expected to pitch and play outfield.

Routine scans in March, however, revealed a tumor in his left femur.

The cancer was back.

It did not, however, stop him from adding more athletic memories. Hours after finishing a five-day round of chemotherapy that caused him to lose almost 20 pounds, Blanock pitched two scoreless innings against Peters Township. Less than one week later, he struck out four in a duel against Mt. Lebanon’s Austin Kitchen, a Division I recruit.

Athletics were Blanock’s escape – an outlet to forget about his diagnosis. He did not share those moments during his 15-minute speech last Saturday. Instead, Blanock expressed how important the time with teammates or the little time he had on the field of competition meant to him, the lessons learned, friendships gained and the joy of victory.

One of those lessons he credited to Canon-McMillan basketball coach Rick Bell. In his speech, Blanock recalled Bell expressing to his players that when the Big Macs were down by 10 points with one minute to play, they had a chance to win. He didn’t just say it; he firmly believed it. It’s a mindset that Blanock has carried into his battle.

“I was thoroughly blown away and thoroughly humbled,” said Bell, who could not attend the banquet. “To be a small chapter in this kid’s life, and for him to be such a big chapter in my life, it was just so humbling to hear what he had to say about our relationship and what it meant to him.”

Blanock also thanked his family. His father, who spent many sleepless nights researching courses of treatment and was his pitching coach last spring. His mother, Jan, who Blanock said always knows how to brighten his spirits and his fiancée, Natalie Britvich, who Blanock is set to marry later this month.

It was a speech the Blanocks weren’t sure would ever happen. In December, Luke’s white blood cell counts were so low after a round of chemotherapy that further treatment would be a risk.

Tumors formed in his jaw, preventing him from talking, eating or even swallowing a pill for days. His weight dropped to less than 130 pounds – almost 50 pounds lighter than his weight last spring.

“He was never down,” Kurt Blanock said. “It was tough as a parent when you see him in pain. There’s nothing you can do about it. That’s the worst. They couldn’t take the pain away.”

Luke’s chemotherapy treatment began to kick in, allowing him to talk and his blood-cell count rose. Blanock received another round of chemotherapy Jan. 12, clearing the way for him to make his speech and accept the award.

Those in the crowd were moved. Whether it was his expression of love toward his fiancée or his aura of optimism, there were few dry eyes in the banquet room. It was a Jim Valvano-ESPYs-like speech.

“After the speech, it was amazing,” Blanock recalled. “It was a really special moment. I’m glad I got the opportunity to do it. I’m sure I would have thanked everyone anyway more privately, but getting the chance to do it publicly was pretty cool because they got their recognition.”

And he got his – not for being the kid with cancer, but for being an inspirational, courageous athlete.

Before he walked off to a standing ovation, Blanock chose to finish the speech with two words: wait and hope.