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Determined to succeed
Life-threatening disease hasn't stopped Vermillion native
MATT ZIMMER
mzimmer@argusleader.com
06/18/05 - Tim Brodersen, a Vermillion native, has overcome a life-threatening disease to become a successful discuss thrower at the University of Iowa.
There's one word that keeps coming up when talking about Tim Brodersen.
Determination.
It was determination that helped Brodersen, a successful, if unspectacular, discus thrower at Vermillion High School, earn a spot on the Iowa Hawkeyes track and field team as a walk-on.
It was determination that Brodersen used to become a key cog on the Hawkeye squad, and later, a Big Ten champion.
And it was determination that pushed Brodersen through the effects of chemotherapy and a bone-marrow transplant for aplastic anemia, a disorder that could have debilitated most careers, but was merely a speed bump for this former four-sport standout.
Brodersen won the Big Ten title this year with a 187 foot throw, was a NCAA national qualifier, a U.S. Nationals provisional qualifier, and threw a career best 193-6 at a home meet, the 7th best collegiate throw in the country this year and the 19th best throw in the nation overall.
In overcoming both an illness and the long odds of reaching the Division I level, it's been an eventful half-decade or so for Brodersen, but the 6-foot-2, 230-pound senior-to-be shuns the hero label for his recovery even as others throw it at him.
"I set a goal to have success at a Division I school, and when you have a goal since you were a young kid, you stick with it," Brodersen said. "I never thought about slowing down, never changed my goals."
Tim starred in baseball, football and basketball at Vermillion, but track never took a back seat.
His father, Brad, competed in field events himself while in school, and that rubbed off on Tim. Brad and Tim attended the Drake Relays in Des Moines nearly every year.
"I loved all sports, really," Tim says, "but baseball and track were the ones I enjoyed most."
Tim was a standout linebacker for the Tanager football squad as well, but just as his junior season on the gridiron in the fall of 2000 was about to get under way, he noticed bruises all over his body - the first symptoms of aplastic anemia, which would eventually put Brodersen in the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn.
Brodersen said his bone marrow essentially shut down, stopping the production of new blood cells.
"You can't survive without a transplant," he says without a hint of drama.
There are waiting lists for bone marrow transplants - except if a sibling matches, then they can donate directly.
The chances of a sibling being a match are 1 in 4, and Trisha was his only chance.
She was a perfect match.
For Trisha, 25, it was a chance not only to save her brother's life but to strengthen their bond.
"I would go in and just lay there for four hours while they took the blood," Trisha says. "People probably thought I looked sicker than Tim. I was like, 'Really, I'm fine.' I wasn't nervous about doing it, I was just nervous if it would work. It wasn't a pleasant experience but it was definitely worth it."
The transplant was a success. Tim had to be a little careful for the first year out of the hospital, but he didn't miss a track season and was back as a starting linebacker for his senior year.
"It was amazing how Tim handled the whole situation," says Tim's mother, Karol. "The doctors said attitude was a big part of recovery, and he was wonderful."
Through it all, while family and friends stressed over Tim's health, Tim kept his mind focused on throwing the discus.
"I had an exercise bike in my room, but mostly I just tried to visualize throwing," Tim said. "I had to stay mentally prepared, I had to stay determined."
Chasing the dream
Meanwhile, Tim, having garnered a state runner-up and state title in the discus, had been trying to get a chance with a Division I track program. Spending all that time in the hospital hadn't changed a thing for him.
Talks with Iowa had been productive, but when Tim showed up for a visit thin and bald from the chemotherapy, it was awkward.
"I think when I came out there with my chemo-hair they were a little nervous," Tim says. "I just felt like I'd just have to work a little harder and make improvements faster."
Iowa throwing coach Scott Cappos admitted being skeptical, but Brodersen was just a walk-on, so there was no real risk on the school's part.
"I knew he was having some health issues but I didn't know how severe," Cappos said. "Guys that throw at this level are 6-5, 6-6, and 260 pounds, and Tim showed up skinny and bald and said he wanted to throw. I didn't really know what to think."
Again, Tim's drive carried him past any doubts, though it didn't come easy. His freshman year (after a redshirt year) was a little rough.
Walk-ons don't exactly get the red carpet treatment from major programs, and Brodersen found himself struggling to prove his worth. He wasn't able to reach 150 feet that first year.
"I'd have been more satisfied trying to succeed at the Division I level and failing than going to an NAIA school and dominating," Tim said. "It's frustrating because your progress is so slow, but I was determined."
As his strength and technique improved, so did his marks.
"Your resources at a big time program are so much better," Tim says. "You can focus on it year-round. Finally last fall, I could tell things were starting to click. I was hitting the 170s and I realized I belonged."
Brad Brodersen wondered how his son would work through the early frustrations, but he knew Tim's experiences could pull him through.
"When you get to that level you don't know how it's going to turn out," Brad said. "I know at the beginning of his sophomore year he had a little doubt, but he kept working at it, and obviously things have turned out good."
Tim is now on a scholarship, and he's got another year at Iowa. Both he and his coach have high hopes.
"I want to be an All-American," Tim says. "I want to go to U.S. Nationals, and then who knows; the top three at the U.S. Nationals go to the world championships.
"I need to be throwing 205 or 210 to get to the Olympic trials, so if I can add another 10 feet or so I'm right there. I made a big jump this year. We'll see how next year goes."
Cappos said all of Brodersen's goals are realistic.
"He's a bit undersized but he's very strong and very explosive," Cappos said. "If he cleans up his technique just a little bit, he can be throwing over 200 feet."
A different kind of hero
Through all he's accomplished, Tim's illness has never been a motivating factor. To him, it's barely a part of his story.
"I never use it as motivation," he said. "I try to keep it as far out of my mind as possible. It's unfortunate, I wish it never happened, but you deal with it and continue to live your life the way you want to. What I use for motivation is the fact that I had to walk on and earn my spot here. I set my goal early and I accomplished it."
Adds Karol: "All he ever wanted was to get over it and get through it. There's a lot more to him than his illness."
While Brodersen is invariably praised as an inspiration, including by Cappos, Tim is not comfortable with that kind of praise.
"I never know how to respond to questions about the illness," he says. "I don't find it inspiring. I had a friend who's a teacher have me come talk to her kids about overcoming adversity, persevering - she said she thought I was a hero. I'm not a hero. People who give their lives and save lives are heroes."
Tim went through recovery at the Ronald McDonald house, and what he saw there ensured he'd never feel self-pity.
"That was a sad time," he said. "There's kids there that aren't going to be around in a year - and they seem happy."
But if Aplastic Anemia were two words that never entered Tim Brodersen's vocabulary, he'd still be an inspiration, as his meteoric rise to prominence is amazing all by itself.
"Tim's the most successful story we've had," says Cappos. "He's regarded as one of the top athletes on our squad, and probably one of the top athletes at our University. To go from a walk-on to a Big Ten champion is amazing."
It's amazing for Cappos, who never dreamed the thin and bald Brodersen that stood before him was a future Big Ten champion.
It's amazing for Brad and Karol, who, as they sat at Tim's bedside at the Mayo Clinic, never dreamed they'd travel to the campuses of Ohio State, Stanford and Florida to watch their son compete.
But it isn't amazing to Tim.
He planned on being here all along, no matter what stood in his way.
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