The Diagnosis, the Choice, and My New Life

A New Chapter Begins

It’s time. This is the toughest decision I’ve ever faced, but as of Friday, Aug. 1, I’ll be retiring as a full-time sportswriter. I realize that, to some, it might sound strange or impossible, but it’s for real.

For years, I’ve privately dealt with consistently worsening symptoms, and in 2023, I was finally formally diagnosed with Parkinson’s Disease. Doctors and PD experts tell me I've probably had it for more than 10 years, and when I look back at when all the various symptoms began, that checks out.

Parkinson’s is an insidious enemy. It doesn’t announce its arrival. It sneaks up and steals pieces of you without you even noticing until the medical community tells you what’s happening. The tremors start slow and you wonder what the heck, but they eventually become obvious. And then you also somehow face both crippling fatigue and debilitating insomnia at the same time — along with dozens of other symptoms, intermittently or all at once. Eventually, cognitive decline begins — and that’s where the real fear sets in. My thoughts for the future tend to center on my loved ones and what an insufferable burden I will become.

Modern medicine, science and technology are amazing, and the advancements PD patients have enjoyed just in the last five years have begun to restore some level of normalcy and given hope to many. For some, brain surgery (deep brain stimulation) is an option to relieve the tremors, but it's not permanent. There’s a brand new dopamine pump that helps substitute that which your brain no longer produces, although the dosage must be steadily increased, and eventually the tremors win that race too. And there are pills. Oh boy, are there pills. Lots and lots of pills, all to simply stave off the inevitable.

Parkinson’s, like Father Time, is undefeated. As we know it today, PD is inescapable, a steady decline from which there is no coming back. There’s no cure — yet. It’s a progressive, degenerative brain disease that does not relent. They say I’m lucky, that of all the neurodegenerative brain disorders out there, I have the best one. I guess I’ll take that. Celebrate the small victories, right?

The most frustrating part is that over the last 4-5 years, the simplest things, things that used to be second nature for me, like writing on tense deadlines or speaking in public, have become increasingly difficult. It's a miracle I somehow made it through addressing the graduating class at my high school alma mater's commencement ceremony back in May. Still, it was the highlight of a lifetime, and I couldn't be more grateful.

But I will continue to fight this disease with every resource I can muster. That means a strict and regimented daily exercise routine, a concerted effort (finally) on my diet, and lots and lots of brain games. It also means more me-time activities like meditation, sleep and a lifetime of catching up on my love of reading. Here’s one for you: I’ve recently taken up drumming — hard rock, of course — as I’ve tried to find ways to control the tremors, rather than letting them control me. Drum therapy, it turns out, is a great Parkinson’s treatment, but all I wanted to do was pretend I was the great Dave Grohl. This amazing and fun and sometimes recreational career of mine has left me without the need for a real hobby for all these years. Now, finally, I have one.

Of course, I’ll devote myself to spending more time with family and friends. They deserve it. But all that means work will have to take a back seat, or maybe just ride shotgun for a while. This is my new reality, my new life. I don't like it. It's not fair. But that's life, right? This is the hand I was dealt, so I will sit at the table and play the game as long as I can.

I’m going to remain in my role as publisher at Sooners On SI and I’ll be contributing written content as well as videos, both here and on my YouTube channel — but now it will be in a semi-retired capacity. Some of you may have noticed that, for the first time in 24 years, I was not at conference media days this year. It crushed me to not be in Atlanta to interview the Sooners at SEC Media Days, but I did what I could from home. I'll be doing a lot more of that in the future.

Effective Aug. 1, Ryan Chapman is your new co-publisher. Ryan has been my deputy editor and managing editor for the last five years, and I’m completely confident he’ll take our website to new heights. I know he’s excited about the challenge. He’s well-connected on the OU beat, and I look forward to seeing him and Carson Field continue to raise the bar for our OU coverage. I strongly suggest you give them a follow. You won't regret it. I’m still going to enjoy writing columns and features and jumping on the occasional podcast, so don’t be surprised to see me out and about covering games and other events once in a while. If you do, please come say hello.

I must express my gratitude for this amazing, incredible, almost impossible career I’ve had. As some famous ball player once said, I can’t believe this is my life. Sports and writing were my two biggest passions as a kid, so to be able to combine them into a sportswriter career has been, quite literally, a dream come true.

I’m thankful to my 5th grade teacher, Kathleen Davis, for always encouraging me to pursue life as a professional writer. I’m thankful to my high school journalism teacher, Norma Burns, for nurturing and polishing a rough, almost feral boy from North Pole, Alaska, and helping me realize I could turn my gifts into a career — and for getting my foot in the door at the Ada News at just 17 years old. I’m thankful to my college mass comm advisors, Sue Fatheree and Mary Bishop, who knocked off a few more of those rough edges and reinforced the belief that this career was actually possible.

I’m thankful for all the editors and publishers who took a chance on an unproven young sportswriter. Many of them are no longer with us, but the impact they had on me hopefully has been passed along to the next generation. I’m also thankful to those who, years later, rolled the dice on an established but aging sportswriter. Reinventing myself and rebooting my career after 31 years in newspapers (and after my 50th birthday), was a big risk, but certainly a rewarding one. I’m glad I bet on myself, but I couldn’t have done it without them.

Others along the way might not even realize it, but deserve my gratitude as well. From radio shows to podcasts and TV appearances, they all imbued an old newspaper curmudgeon with a little bit of charisma and a lot of confidence and empowered me to evolve into a genuine multimedia presence.

Of course, all my partners-in-crime get an extra-special mention. Thanks also to absolute pros like Mickey Thompson, Doug Quinn, Rick Shaeffer, Kevin Trainor, Cory Rogers, Cris Belvin, Brett Daniels, Bob Moore, Steve Buzzard, Mike Noteware, Kenny Mossman, Mike Houck, Don Tomkalski, Tim Henning and all the SIDs, publicists and PR folks who enabled me to tell interesting stories about their athletes, coaches and teams.

And special thanks to all of my coworkers and colleagues across Oklahoma and beyond who helped me grow both personally and professionally over the years. There's been so many. I wish I could name you all, but with this particular brain, I’m afraid I’d forget someone and that would hurt. Your support and your friendship means more than you know. Please keep in touch.

I’m deeply indebted to all the coaches and athletes (and their families) who allowed me to get to know them and tell their stories during the past four decades. It began in 1985 with the late, great Landeré Carson, who played in an 8-and-under all-star baseball game with a broken arm and was still the best player on the field. Since then, there have been thousands who let me share their story — simply too many to mention. Just know, it’s been an honor and a privilege.

Of course I must acknowledge the legion of faithful readers, listeners, viewers, subscribers and followers. For the last 40 years, thousands upon thousands of you chose to make my work a small part of your day, whether it was a big win (or loss) by your favorite team, or a scoop on some unwanted news about your quarterback, or a poignant profile on a high school wrestler’s ailing little sister, or a hard-edged column on the head football coach’s worst loss. Or maybe it was a hot take you loved (or hated) on the radio, or a compelling idea I came up with on the podcast, or some random silliness on YouTube. Or maybe it was just a post on social media. Whatever it was that engaged you, I thank you. None of this happens without you.

Last but certainly not least, my friends and family deserve mountains of recognition for any professional success I might have had. No writer has ever enjoyed more ardent supporters. Jayson was there at the beginning and knows the whole story, but even today makes me feel special just by making me feel normal. Rusty was my blood bro, my rock, my best friend, and never stopped believing I would become someone. I miss him every day. Paul remains my hero, my inspiration. Rob has always been my emotional center. Phil still makes me laugh harder than anyone. And Steve, my first sports editor, still motivates me to be a better writer. It’s pretty special to have that many close friends for more than 40 years.

My family. My everything. My mom, Rose, always believed I was so much more than my humble (and at times broken) beginnings, and somehow she made me believe it too. I was the youngest of six kids, and my brothers John and Mike and my sister Cindy never stopped lifting me up, never stopped loving me and never stopped telling me I was good enough. Even today, they still enjoy reading or watching my new posts. And I’m not sure anyone has consumed more John Hoover content than my nephew Anthony, a Pride of Oklahoma trumpeter from 2000-04 and an Air Force veteran whose passion for OU football is unsurpassed.

For more than 35 years, my wife Holly has been my partner, my muse, my best friend, my most honest critic and my fiercest defender. Whenever you crossed me, you crossed her. Likewise, if you showed me kindness or just professional courtesy, she was in your corner for life. And all those games and birthdays and school plays I missed for work? She got every single one on video. And yes, we still have them. Honestly, I lucked out. Best sportswriter wife ever.

Without all of them, I am nothing.

I’ll navigate this new chapter of my life like I’ve navigated all the others: with passion and great curiosity, with fortitude, resilience and endless optimism. I've overcome a lot just to get here. I'm not quitting now. And one way or another, I’ll make it through because of all the incredible people in my corner — and in my heart.