Columnist Dean Juipe: Death defies rationale, but can inspire others

Dean Juipe

Friday, Nov. 28, 2003 | 9:34 a.m.

Dean Juipe's column appears Monday, Tuesday, Wednesday and Friday. His boxing notebook appears Thursday. Reach him at juipe@lasvegassun.com or (702) 259-4084.

Very few of us who have been hearing and reading about Edward Gomez knew the young man or shared in his development. He was a high school football player and supposedly a decent one for what may be the state's finest team, Las Vegas High.

He died Sunday, two days after collapsing on the sideline during the Wildcats' playoff victory over Desert Pines.

His teammates will carry on without him Saturday when they take on Palo Verde, and Gomez will be buried Monday through St. Anne's Catholic Church.

He wasn't here for Thanksgiving, reminding us once again that sudden, abrupt changes -- such as the out-of-the-blue death of an otherwise healthy teen -- are rarely explained or easily understood. Gomez was 17, still approaching the prime of his life, playing a sport he loved when he inexplicably fell victim to a cruel reality: There is no guarantee that you will see the next day, or, in his case, even the next play.

His passing -- the result of blunt head trauma, the doctors eventually said -- is a loss that affects us all. Those in his family and circle of close friends will realize it for a lifetime, while those of us looking on from a distance and perhaps relating to Gomez solely as an athlete see his death as a unjust curiosity.

Not having been visibly injured on any specific play, Gomez nonetheless walked from the field and to the bench before being overcome. Perhaps football had nothing to do with his death, beyond the role it played as a backdrop for a young man who may have been prone or susceptible to an aneurysm or some other quick-striking malady.

Only the second Nevada high school player to die on the field in at least 14 years, Gomez's death at least allows his friends and family the satisfaction of knowing he passed away while taking part in an activity that was important and dear to him.

Like a golfer struck by lightening on a golf course -- "What a way to go," we've all heard countless times -- he wouldn't have been out on that field had he not been sufficiently enthused. Football is not a sport that is taken lightly and its lengthy, strenuous practice sessions have demoralized many an otherwise competent player.

The game itself is, of course, sometimes ridiculously violent. Helmet-to-helmet collisions and shockingly brusque hits make for exciting moments (and good TV), but they are not in the best interests of the human body.

Like all players, Gomez gave as he received on the field. But unlike the vast majority, he paid the ultimate price.

As such, his passing brands him with a legacy that will be remembered long after this football season. It's a legacy that will not only warn others of the dangers of the game, but one that will hopefully inspire his colleagues to live their lives to the fullest and to achieve whatever is within their grasps during the time allotted to them.

Lots of tears have already been shed and more are sure to fall at Saturday's game, at Sunday's visitation at Bunkers Mortuary and at Monday's funeral. Many have and will ask "Why?" while knowing there is no perfect answer or even a pacifying rationale.

But I'll bet you this: If Gomez had been told in advance he was going to be hurt in such a way last Friday that he would die two days later, I'm reasonably sure he would have said "Let's go play this game" and done what he could to help his teammates and friends meet their football goals.

And, I suspect, he would have done it with no regrets.