Colleen Richards

I play for her.

Throughout my childhood, I would rush home from school or soccer practice to recap the day’s events with my loving Grandma.

After I left for college though, my childhood home lost that twinkle. I suddenly found myself returning from school to an empty house.

My Grandma, Alina Diaz, was diagnosed with Alzheimer’s disease in 2009. As her memory and health slowly began to deteriorate, she stopped eating, slept all day, cried and even said she didn’t want to live anymore. She was literally losing her mind. When she accused her full-time caretaker (who was also my nanny as a baby) of stealing her money, glasses, clothes, bed sheets, etc., it became clear she needed help. My family and I made the difficult decision to find my Grandma professional care. In 2010, she was moved to Chapin Nursing Home, losing her independence while I was off finding mine.

In December 2012, Grandma took a turn for the worse and I thought I was going to lose my number one fan. Luckily, Christmas miracles DO exist and her health did a complete 180. Although her memory is still spotty, she recognizes faces. She is stronger than ever! Plus, I’ve discovered that weekly visits from me, with a side of cartoons and Animal Planet, fill her heart and mind with joy!

My heart is bursting with love for my Grandma and I am very excited to be gearing up for my 2^nd year with Team Brunettes (and a pick-6 or two!).Even though Team Blondes and Team Brunettes are rivals on the gridiron, together WE WILL raise funds for the Alzheimer’s Association and WE WILL find a cure for this disease!

I play for you, Grandma. And I won’t stop fighting. Mahal Kita!

Cassie Sklarz

A few months ago, a good friend of mine celebrated her birthday by asking her friends to donate their time or their money to the Junior Committee of the Alzheimer’s Association. I chose to attend one of her ‘outreach’ outings to the 80^th St. Residence where we sat, conversed, and painted with residents who have Alzheimer’s disease. Some patients chose to look at art books and discuss what they saw, others attempted their hand at painting, while a few completely showed up the volunteers with their talented artistic abilities – it’s an amazing thing what the mind can remember to do.

The purpose of this outreach experience is to connect with patients while giving them a creative outlet by which to express themselves and to exercise their mental muscles. We converse and get to know these people in the mindset they are in at that moment. Very rarely do they say they remember us from month to month, but often times, we’ll notice they become more comfortable with volunteers with whom they’ve worked before. These connections might be easier for the patients because there is no pressure for them to remember us and no hurt feelings when they don’t. It benefits the patients (and often the volunteers) in ways we have yet to fully understand. I can only hope that painting with these patients is as rewarding for them as it is for me.

I thought becoming a part of Blondes vs. Brunettes would help me contribute to a good cause, get a good work out, and hopefully make some friends. What BvB has actually offered to me is so much more. Being part of BvB has come with countless rewards. For players who are currently experiencing the impacts of Alzheimer’s or dementia of a loved one - we are a support system for each other. We’re making connections with each other that go deeper than the superficial stuff of acquaintances. We’re building relationships and making memories with each other despite that fact that one day we might not remember these faces or recall the good times we had. No one knows what the future will hold for us and that’s why we play.

On a more personal note, my great-Uncle Robbie was the valedictorian of his high school. He earned a full scholarship to RPI and the University of Delaware. He held a long and distinguished career as a chemical engineer until he retired (in good health) in his 70s. One day he went out shopping and had no idea where he was and no idea how to find his way home. While a terrifying circumstance - that was only the beginning of his (and our) scary experiences.

Some of us are playing for loved ones. But some of us are also playing for ourselves. We put a ‘young face’ on this disease, but none of us know what the future holds. No one knows if one day our ‘young faces’ will become the face of a patient inflicted with Alzheimer’s or dementia. Some of us are playing for parents, grandparents, or other loved ones - but some of us are playing for ourselves. Some of us have already been caregivers or supported our parents as they cared for others.  Some of us are playing because we have seen the destruction this disease can bring to a person’s life and the lives of those around them. There is no cure for this disease. There is no way to slow down its impact. We play for awareness, advocacy, support, and research. We play for a cure.

To become involved in the Outreach Program or the Junior Committee with the Alzheimer’s Association of NYC, contact alznycjc.org/outreach. 

Rhys Loring

What inspired you to get involved in the Alzheimer’s Association?

July 4^th, 2010 was a day of dual independence for my family, as it was not only a celebration of independence for our country, but it was also the day that my grandfather was finally independent from Alzheimer’s disease, having died silently in his sleep early that morning.

What can you tell us about your grandfather before dementia?

My grandfather, Mahlon “Bill” Adams, was born in a small town in Kansas in 1928 and grew up the third of four boys.  Having grown up with no sisters, he had four daughters of his own and no sons.  Of those four daughters, they all bore my grandfather grandsons, with the exception of one girl: me.  Growing up as the only granddaughter automatically forged a very special bond between Papa and me.  He was a cabinet builder, and he would often build me things as presents.  One year he built me an amazing dollhouse (that I still have), and another time he built me a broomstick horse that he decided should be named Plug. 

Always the jokester, he actually earned his nickname Bill after Wild Bill Hickock because of the pranks he was always pulling.  As a child I had a favorite blankie that he would always steal from me, and then he would shuffle off and snicker over our game while I cried for him to give it back.  If I was touching my grandma, I was on “safe base” and he had to release my blanket from his possession.  After several years of this, I finally got fed up and took out a pair of scissors and cut him a small square and said, “Here!  Now you have your own and don’t need to steal mine!”  A bit dumbfounded by my cleverness and vivacity, he promptly pulled out his wallet and secured the square in a picture sleeve inside and he carried it around with him ever after.   

Once your grandfather was diagnosed, how did it affect you?

When my grandfather was first diagnosed with Alzheimer’s, I was frankly in denial.  In the early parts of his journey with the disease I was away at college, and I was more selfishly focused on living out my last days as a kid before entering the real world than I was about my grandfather.  Then, a year after I graduated I moved across the country to New York, putting even more distance – both literally and figuratively – between myself and Papa’s ever-declining health.  When my mom would call and update me on what was going on with him, I was either too busy living my life to fully grasp what was going on, or was just too scared to try to understand.

Things really hit me hard in his last year as I learned of his various stages of decline: he couldn’t make it to the bathroom in time and had an accident, he couldn’t dress himself anymore, he was losing excessive amounts of weight, he was sleeping all the time.  Hearing all of these things finally woke me up as to what was happening and not a day went by that I didn’t cry, because I knew the man I had known and loved was no longer, and I felt that seeing him in such a fragile state face-to-face would tarnish all the strong and wonderful memories I had of him.

Why do you participate?

Unfortunately when Papa reached the obsessive counting and organizing phase that is common as patients lose their memory, the little blankie swatch I had given him got lost. 

Fast forward to the summer of 2012… I was about to get married, which is of course a very exciting thing, but the fact that Papa never got to meet my future husband was still weighing on me.  I had planned to wear my grandmother’s wedding earrings and I went upstairs at my parents’ house to get them out.  In a box they were tucked next to a card that I had not remembered ever having seen.  I opened it, and it was a note my Papa had written me ten years earlier, with a piece of his square of the blankie pinned to it.  As I started reading the note that told of how he would always be with me as long as I had half of his blanket square, I couldn’t help but feel he was speaking those words right there in front of me for the very first time.  And THAT is why I participate.

Rhys Loring is a Team Brunette veteran player who was unable to return for the 2013 season due to injury. She continues her participation through the Steering Committee.