thedrifter
06-17-06, 07:25 AM
Floyd finds strength from dad
Saturday, June 17, 2006
By STEVE POPPER
STAFF WRITER
Cliff Floyd inherited the swing from his father, C.C., a loping powerful swing. Back home in Chicago, the father and his friends still remind him that it allowed the father, whose career ended in the Marines, to pound a baseball farther than the major league son can hit it.
But the son inherited something else, kidney problems that nearly killed the father.
Father's Days always been been precious to Cliff Floyd, well aware that more than 20 years ago he feared his father might not be around to celebrate them. This year it's a little bit different because this is the year that the father had to fear for the son.
Circumstances change the dynamics of relationships, and the Floyd's changed once in 1988 when the father underwent a kidney transplant. But it changed again this year when the son learned that he, too, had a kidney ailment.
Cliff Floyd's ailment, after an initial scare, was determined to not be a serious problem, instead one that he could control. But in the family, the memory of the father's health would not allow it to be that simple.
A routine physical at the start of training camp revealed warning signs, high blood pressure, rising levels of kidney failure. It was enough to frighten the Mets' amiable outfielder, enough to bring back memories of what his father went through, what the family went through.
When C.C.'s kidney failure occurred, it came quickly. A new home that the double-shift hours had earned and the family had built from the ground was given back a week after the deal was complete because he could no longer work. He grew sick so quickly that it took a 14-year-old Cliff to drive him to the hospital when he finally gave in.
Fate stepped in back then -- the family already was packing C.C. into the car to head to the local hospital when the phone rang and Cliff's mother sent him back in the house to pick it up.
"My mom gave me the key," he recalled, "And I went back in and it was Northwestern [Memorial] Hospital in Chicago saying get Dad there as soon as you can. We have a kidney waiting."
Those memories haunt a family and when C.C. got a call from a reporter this spring asking him about Cliff, it all came back. C.C., who knew nothing of the troubles, called his son.
"I really didn't know what to say," C.C. said. "I was waiting for him to tell me, 'Dad, it's OK. Dad, it's all right.' His blood pressure was elevated. His kidney was working at 50 percent. That scared me. Finally, he blurted out, 'Dad you still there? Everything's going to be all right.' "
"I've never heard Pop quiet," Cliff said. "He's always loud on the phone. I've almost had to turn the volume down. But he was different. He was home by himself and you could hear the fear.
"I was thinking of a way to break it to him so he would understand where I was coming from, and not someone call him and say, 'What do you think about your son having kidney failure?' He doesn't want to hear that. The last thing I want to do is make him worry that his son was sick, that his son maybe couldn't finish his career."
The tension was enough to cause the outgoing Floyd to shun the media for more than a week, upset that the press had come between the family in this difficult moment. But maybe if it wasn't for the father's troubles, the son wouldn't have known how to handle it. The elder Floyd, once the shock had passed, immediately began instructing Cliff on how to make changes in his life, how to handle the illness.
When C.C. was ill, Cliff grew up quickly, bypassing college -- he had a home visit from Roy Williams to play basketball at Kansas, intense interest from Arizona State and Stanford to play baseball. The Montreal Expos made him the 14th overall pick and he opted to take the payday, helping to pay the bills that his father could not anymore.
Now, after Cliff Floyd has made more money than he ever imagined, it is C.C. who watches over him again, calling him to make sure he's drinking enough water, avoiding the fried foods and alcohol. He accompanied the Mets on their recent trip through Los Angeles and Arizona. With a home near Cliff's in Florida, Cliff's parents dote on Cliff's two children, ages 2 and 1.
"I was really scared," C.C. said. "But I was ready to talk him through it, be there with him. If he had to go on dialysis, I'd go with him because he went with me. I was ready to stand by him."
"Father's Day is always special to me," Cliff said. "Knowing now, understanding what I know now and didn't know then, it definitely makes me very blessed to have my dad here. He was there through it all. Now he's been to almost every ballpark. For me he's been there from Day One, through the times he was sick.
"I remember him getting to a point with his kidney disease where he had to lose all his teeth. No lie, he had every tooth in his mouth pulled. I had a baseball game in high school and I looked up and my dad was standing there, all gauzed up. To this day, you can't even fathom what it meant to me. It wasn't a State championship. But to look up and see him there. Man, you have no idea. Changing gauzes. You have no idea what that means."
E-mail: popper@northjersey.com
Ellie
Saturday, June 17, 2006
By STEVE POPPER
STAFF WRITER
Cliff Floyd inherited the swing from his father, C.C., a loping powerful swing. Back home in Chicago, the father and his friends still remind him that it allowed the father, whose career ended in the Marines, to pound a baseball farther than the major league son can hit it.
But the son inherited something else, kidney problems that nearly killed the father.
Father's Days always been been precious to Cliff Floyd, well aware that more than 20 years ago he feared his father might not be around to celebrate them. This year it's a little bit different because this is the year that the father had to fear for the son.
Circumstances change the dynamics of relationships, and the Floyd's changed once in 1988 when the father underwent a kidney transplant. But it changed again this year when the son learned that he, too, had a kidney ailment.
Cliff Floyd's ailment, after an initial scare, was determined to not be a serious problem, instead one that he could control. But in the family, the memory of the father's health would not allow it to be that simple.
A routine physical at the start of training camp revealed warning signs, high blood pressure, rising levels of kidney failure. It was enough to frighten the Mets' amiable outfielder, enough to bring back memories of what his father went through, what the family went through.
When C.C.'s kidney failure occurred, it came quickly. A new home that the double-shift hours had earned and the family had built from the ground was given back a week after the deal was complete because he could no longer work. He grew sick so quickly that it took a 14-year-old Cliff to drive him to the hospital when he finally gave in.
Fate stepped in back then -- the family already was packing C.C. into the car to head to the local hospital when the phone rang and Cliff's mother sent him back in the house to pick it up.
"My mom gave me the key," he recalled, "And I went back in and it was Northwestern [Memorial] Hospital in Chicago saying get Dad there as soon as you can. We have a kidney waiting."
Those memories haunt a family and when C.C. got a call from a reporter this spring asking him about Cliff, it all came back. C.C., who knew nothing of the troubles, called his son.
"I really didn't know what to say," C.C. said. "I was waiting for him to tell me, 'Dad, it's OK. Dad, it's all right.' His blood pressure was elevated. His kidney was working at 50 percent. That scared me. Finally, he blurted out, 'Dad you still there? Everything's going to be all right.' "
"I've never heard Pop quiet," Cliff said. "He's always loud on the phone. I've almost had to turn the volume down. But he was different. He was home by himself and you could hear the fear.
"I was thinking of a way to break it to him so he would understand where I was coming from, and not someone call him and say, 'What do you think about your son having kidney failure?' He doesn't want to hear that. The last thing I want to do is make him worry that his son was sick, that his son maybe couldn't finish his career."
The tension was enough to cause the outgoing Floyd to shun the media for more than a week, upset that the press had come between the family in this difficult moment. But maybe if it wasn't for the father's troubles, the son wouldn't have known how to handle it. The elder Floyd, once the shock had passed, immediately began instructing Cliff on how to make changes in his life, how to handle the illness.
When C.C. was ill, Cliff grew up quickly, bypassing college -- he had a home visit from Roy Williams to play basketball at Kansas, intense interest from Arizona State and Stanford to play baseball. The Montreal Expos made him the 14th overall pick and he opted to take the payday, helping to pay the bills that his father could not anymore.
Now, after Cliff Floyd has made more money than he ever imagined, it is C.C. who watches over him again, calling him to make sure he's drinking enough water, avoiding the fried foods and alcohol. He accompanied the Mets on their recent trip through Los Angeles and Arizona. With a home near Cliff's in Florida, Cliff's parents dote on Cliff's two children, ages 2 and 1.
"I was really scared," C.C. said. "But I was ready to talk him through it, be there with him. If he had to go on dialysis, I'd go with him because he went with me. I was ready to stand by him."
"Father's Day is always special to me," Cliff said. "Knowing now, understanding what I know now and didn't know then, it definitely makes me very blessed to have my dad here. He was there through it all. Now he's been to almost every ballpark. For me he's been there from Day One, through the times he was sick.
"I remember him getting to a point with his kidney disease where he had to lose all his teeth. No lie, he had every tooth in his mouth pulled. I had a baseball game in high school and I looked up and my dad was standing there, all gauzed up. To this day, you can't even fathom what it meant to me. It wasn't a State championship. But to look up and see him there. Man, you have no idea. Changing gauzes. You have no idea what that means."
E-mail: popper@northjersey.com
Ellie