The whole country has Devon and Leah in its arms. A national bear hug holds them and keeps them. Every parent who has ever known the helpless feeling of dealing with a child's terrible sickness is offering a bowed head and a bended knee. Everyone else has a reason to feel compassionate, and fortunate.
Leah Still has become Our Child.
She belongs to Devon. She lives in our prayers.
The Still story started several weeks ago when Devon, the Bengals third-year defensive tackle, spoke publicly about his daughter's illness. She has Stage 4 pediatric cancer. The Bengals cut Still in mid-August, then re-signed him to their practice squad a day later. One, because he deserved it, and two, because it kept him on the team's health insurance. The Bengals promoted him to the active roster this week.
In the meantime, the Bengals did something equally wonderful: They allowed the rest of us a chance to share in Devon and Leah's hope. Spend $100. Buy a No. 75 jersey with STILL across the back. Every dime will go to Children's Hospital in Cincinnati, and toward pediatric cancer research.
As of Friday morning, nearly 4,000 jerseys had been ordered. Nike was making them as fast as it could.
New Orleans Saints coach Sean Payton ordered 100. A college president in Michigan ordered six, including one for the school's football coach, himself undergoing cancer treatments this season. Former NFL quarterback Brady Quinn is ordering several jerseys. ESPN radio host Scott Van Pelt bought at least 20, and asked they be given to kids in treatment at Children's.
Let's keep this going. Let's show the country what we already know: We take of our own around here. We take our sports seriously and our sports heroes personally. Our heart is big.
Four thousand jerseys? Let's triple that. Let's order so many STILLs, the Nike people run out of cotton. Charity is the most profound form of thanks. Let's give thanks.
Bengals executive Jeff Berding says the jerseys will be delivered by early October. The Bengals play the Carolina Panthers at home on the 12th. Can we get 10,000 fans at Paul Brown Stadium that day, wearing STILL jerseys?
Is that a dream? Of course it is. Isn't dreaming part of what we're doing here?
We could call it the Still Bowl. The Bengals could project pictures of Leah on the big board. They could have Devon describe in a video his daughter's courageous journey. They could show it just before kickoff.
The Bengals could order 60,000 orange and black towels, bearing Leah's name, one for every fan at the game. If the Bengals win, guess who gets a game ball?
This is a time to ask Why Not? There is no better time.
Buy a piece of hope. If you can't afford the $100, spread the word to others who can afford it. Re-Tweet this column. Re-tweet every story dealing with Leah, Devon and the jerseys.
The Bengals will never lead the league in self promotion. Mike Brown wouldn't allow it. But this is a good and decent thing, done at a time when the NFL is seen as anything but. The league itself should be buying Still jerseys by the gross.
Help the team help Leah. Get social.
The Bengals have gotten e-mails from everywhere. I got just one, late last week. A reader praised the jersey initiative, thankful for the money and awareness it raised. He also sent along a picture of his 4-year-old grandson. Elijah has Stage 4 neuroblastoma, another predominantly pediatric cancer.
I talked Friday with Elijah's mom. She was ecstatic about the Devon and Leah story. Funding for childhood cancer research is lacking, she said. "I feel like a lot of times people don't want to be aware of it, because it's such a nightmare,'' Abby Zinser said. "And without awareness, there's no funding.''
Cincinnati Children's Hospital is a miracle place. I know this. When my daughter Jillian was six weeks old, she contracted bronchiolitis. Mucous filled her underdeveloped lungs. She spent 12 days at Children's, a six-pound child in a crib, wrapped in a nest of tubes, her life monitored by machines beeping on a wall.
There was talk of putting her on a machine to keep her breathing. There was mention of possible brain damage, from the lack of oxygen. We thought she could die.
Doctors and nurses were with Jillian around the clock. Their vigilance was remarkable, but no more impressive than the care they gave her. Jillian survived, none the worse for wear.
On Sunday, Elijah Zinser will return to Children's, to fight for his life. He and Leah Still are kindred spirits, in search of a miracle. "If more people knew, they would give,'' Abby Zinser said. "And maybe we'd find a cure.''
Buy a jersey. Spread the word. Let's keep this going. Miracles deserve nothing less.