On a steamy, mid-June afternoon, Sue Burke yells drills across the net to nine young tennis players.
Burke, 52, has a raspy voice from years of directing her students. Her skin is golden from hours in the Colorado sun, set off by her bleached blond hair, white visor and sunglasses. She wears a matching bright blue tennis skirt and tank top, and the muscles in her arms and legs flex as she tosses another ball into play.
Burke’s golden retriever, Lili, lies lazily in the shade with a tennis ball in her mouth. She’s a trained service dog to offer stability if Burke’s multiple sclerosis makes it difficult to walk after a day on the court.
“Turn your upper body, OK?” Burke shouts across the net.
Burke commands this scene at the Flatiron Athletic Club in Boulder, playing through the disease that makes it difficult to run and tough to think at the end of a long day.
Burke has been in the tennis business for almost 40 years. As a teenager, she taught herself to play by hitting against a wall and reading the rules of the game from an encyclopedia.
In 2003, doctors diagnosed her with MS, a disabling disease that attacks the central nervous system, slowly limiting muscular functions.
Still, Burke spends six to eight hours a day on the court with kids and adults in Boulder and Denver, never letting them see the true impact of the disease.
Determined to stay on the court
Burke played No. 1 singles at Rutgers University before spending time on the pro circuit. She traveled the country coaching for the USTA, developing players such as Lisa Raymond, who went on to become the No. 1 doubles player in the world.
Burke has coached the U.S. women’s team at the Pan American Games in Argentina, the University of Denver women’s team and for the Chinese Tennis Association.
After her diagnosis, she created the Sue Burke MS Youth Foundation, which promotes awareness of the disease and provides scholarships to affected youth.
Many of her players and their parents don’t know about her disease. They can’t see the toll it has taken on her body because she’s energetic on the court and tries hard to maintain an outward appearance of steadiness.
“She never even brings up her MS,” said Robin King of Englewood, whose 11-year-old son Joshua plays with Burke. “You would never know unless someone had told you. It’s really not something she wears on her sleeve. She just takes everything in stride.”
Lili goes with her everywhere, providing support for Burke and a warm buddy for the kids she coaches.
“It’s just like having a little friend in case you’re feeling down,” 15-year-old Brittany Guidetti said about Lili.
Burke recognizes the power she has in influencing impressionable kids. She has seen so many coaching relationships go wrong that she’s cognizant of the other lessons she’s teaching.
“There’s a lot more going on than feeding tennis balls,” she said, adding that she thinks her kids are inspired to work harder when they know that she’s playing with MS.
Dancing with the disease
Burke has had to limit the number of hours she spends on the court because because of mental fatigue. If it weren’t for her active lifestyle, Burke said she believes the disease would have demobilized her more quickly.
“The deterioration would have been magnified,” she said. “Just the physical aspects of tennis, hand-eye coordination, ball reception. That has actually helped to avoid some of the symptoms that could come up.”
Burke said she’s grateful for the opportunity to keep working. She can’t run like she used to because it sends her body into a spasm, and someday, she’s worried the disease will keep her at home. It’s a day she fears.
“You wake up and you don’t know what you can do,” she said. “All I want to do is keep moving. If I didn’t have this interaction out here, it would be tough. MS can be very isolating.”
Burke speaks highly of her neurologist, Andrea Cohen, who takes a holistic approach to the disease. Last weekend, Cohen gathered a group of riders for the MS Bike Tour through Denver, an act of involvement and activism that touched Burke.
Cohen tells Burke to dance with the disease, much like a player dances across the court with the ball.
“Sometimes I feel like I’m trying to stay ahead of it,” Burke said. “It is like a dance, a leader and a follower. There are days where I’m definitely the follower.”
Sarah Kuta: 303-954-1033 or skuta@denverpost.com
