The cellphone rang. Heartache on the line. Cancer had killed a loved one, leaving behind the tears and a funeral to plan.
Trying to look tough, Mike Anderson quietly placed the phone in his locker, tugged at his Broncos jersey and got ready for some football.
“You can just cut me in half,” Anderson said Wednesday. “I got to be here for my team. And I got to definitely be there for my family.”
Sometimes, the strongest effort a 230-pound tailback can make is to put one foot ahead of the other. Ignore the pain. Move the pile.
At age 31, on the heels of serious injury, a humbling suspension and years of NFL grunt work, Anderson won the starting job as Denver’s top running back, one of the best gigs in the game.
But that’s not the most remarkable part of Anderson’s comeback story.
Denver’s starting tailback is Mr. Mom.
“Mr. Mom,” said Anderson, trying the name on for size. “That’s me.”
Quietly, Anderson has played the role of a single parent throughout most of Broncos training camp, while the mother of his children made a mission of mercy to Arizona, for an extended goodbye to an elderly lady who was slowly dying.
“I was just talking with Andrea. Yesterday, her mother passed away. It was cancer,” Anderson said Wednesday, snapping shut the cellphone, his sad eyes a sharp contrast to the happy din of teammates during lunch hour. “Her mother was late 60s, maybe 70 years old. Kept the cancer a secret until the end, when it was time to say goodbye. Didn’t want anybody to feel sorry for her. Andrea is taking it hard. The kids are in school.
“I’ve got be to the backbone of the family.”
Think a collision with an angry linebacker tests a man’s resolve? Try hustling mac and cheese on the table for a cranky toddler. Mykah Anderson is 3 years old. She has two brothers, Ritho, 11, and Mike Jr., 5.
“I get ’em up every morning at 7. Get ’em all dressed, get ’em fed. I fix my lunch for my sons. I love dropping them off at school, then go to work,” said Anderson, doing his best with Andrea gone all except a few days in recent weeks, while she tended to her ailing mom. “After practice, I hurry home to spend time with the kids. Eat dinner. Make sure they all get a bath and get their rest.”
On a warm August night, after Anderson had ripped a 22-yard gain against San Francisco in an exhibition game, he slowly swung open the doors to the locker room, still wearing a soiled uniform, as Denver teammates hit the showers.
While coach Mike Shanahan fielded media questions far down the hallway, Anderson made his most satisfying move of the evening, when nobody else was watching. He allowed two of his children to tackle him with happy bearhugs.
“It’s tough sometimes,” Anderson said. “But I have a philosophy: There’s a life outside football. So why not enjoy it?”
Trouble does not plop down on the sofa and slurp a beer to celebrate the kickoff of football season. As if we needed to be reminded.
Overnight, Hurricane Katrina can transform an NFL stadium in New Orleans into a leaky refuge for homeless storm victims. In a flash, Anderson must turn his attention from a grief- stricken wife to the X’s and O’s of beating the Miami Dolphins. Tragedy knows no convenience.
“It’s part of life. It’s not part of life you want to happen. But it did,” Anderson said. “So you deal with it.”
Anderson could have used a family crisis as a legit excuse to derail his race against stiff competition for the tailback job. He could have let the weight of 24/7 strain beat him down. He could have succumbed to fate, believing if everything – from his 2003 drug suspension to his season-ending Achilles injury a year ago – happens for a reason, then maybe becoming a starter in Denver was not meant to be.
But, as four out of five NFL linebackers can attest, it takes a lot to bring Anderson down.
“Hey,” Anderson said, “this is an ex-Marine you’re talking to.”
We expect our football heroes to be perfect on Sunday, forgetting the other six days of the week, but heroism can be defined as a parent running nonstop to beat the clock.
The cheers of the stadium can wait. Tonight, the sound of a child sleeping is all Anderson needs.
Staff writer Mark Kiszla can be reached at 303-820-5438 or mkiszla@denverpost.com.
