“Fight With Mike”, by Howard Cannon

It is strange how one can be going along in life, minding his own business, doing his own thing, and something hits him squarely between the eyes that causes his heart to skip a beat or two, his lungs to lose the capacity to breath for a brief few moments before he is able to regain composure and move on through this thing we should all cherish called “life”.

The last few days have been that for me and, I must be honest, I have yet to regain my full composure; and, in fact, am writing this to try to help myself do just that. You see, I write when I feel lost, confused, upset, or just generally “off” in any way. And I do feel all of those, and more, at this very moment.

Let me share – yesterday morning I was doing just that, I was minding my own business, doing my own thing – sitting in my office checking my Face Book Newsfeed, when I came across a post from someone I have known for basically my entire life that hailed from my old hometown of Richland Center, Wisconsin.

The post seemed innocent enough to start – “FIGHT WITH MIKE” – and just before scrolling down to go to the next post, the next line really caught my eye:

• We are having a fundraiser for Mike Nigl who is battling stage four stomach cancer which has spread to his pancreas. Mike is a proud father of Mariah, Mikayla, McKenna, and Mac Nigl and husband to Mary Jo Nigl. We LOVE this family.” It went on to say, “My daughter Emma Ruetten and her classmate Rosie Smith came up with the fantastic idea of ‘Fight with Mike’... “, the post continued, but I am not sure I could comprehend a single word of it after that.

at.

I asked my wife who is significantly more intelligent than I, “What on earth is ‘stage four cancer’ and what does that mean?” You see, I am a just a simple restaurant and bar guy and really don’t know much else, but after a brief conversation with her, I was duly informed; and, just like that, I was hit squarely between the eyes, my heart skipped several beats, my lungs lost the capacity to breath for quite some time and like I previously mentioned, I have yet to fully regain my composure.

I began to tear up, and have done so three times since – including at this very moment as I write this article.

I cannot even fathom how Mike, his family, and all of his loved ones that I am certain he has spread throughout Richland County, the state of Wisconsin, and the world must be feeling.

Now, bear in mind, I am not the most touchy-feely human being in the world by any stretch of the imagination – and I have spent most of my life avoiding scenarios and situations where the human components of love, compassion, friendship, and relationship are front and center other than in the day-to-day confines of a restaurant and bar – focused on serving those that are expecting to be served great food, drink, and hospitality. But, I could not, or more accurately, did NOT want to believe what I was reading, so I sent a Private Face Book Message to another longtime dear friend that I knew I could trust to ask her if that was the same Mike Nigl that I graduated high school with back in 1982. And, regrettably, she confirmed that it was. I guess, I, myself, was in shock, and this shock is what prompted me to ask such a stupid question. After all, exactly how many Mike Nigl’s can one guy really know?

That answer is simple – one.

You see, Mike has always been one-of-a-kind for sure and he has always been an interesting bird to me.

Even way back in school – many moons ago now – when we were snot-nosed kids, and later on young men looking to leave the nest of good old Richland Center High School, he stood out. And not just to me, he stood out to everyone.

In those days gone by, he was always perfectly groomed – smooth, well-combed hair; perfectly white teeth; well-pressed shirt and pants; tucked-in and buttoned-up. He was always sharp with this great big smile plastered all over his face almost all the time. He was always ready, alert, on time, prepared, willing and able. The dude has always been super smart – both book smart and common sense smarts, and he was every teacher’s favorite, of course. Not only was he a great student, but he was involved in everything -- a member of this, and a leader of that; and, let’s be honest, in high school, he was great at everything and great with everybody. He respected us all – every last one of us – even those of us [me] that didn’t always act in a manner that rightfully should have deserved his respect.

He was always a cool dude hanging around the guys and always super smooth with all the girls. Let’s call it what it was – he was super popular and he was one of the “big-men on campus” – if one can even call Richland Center High School and its glorious old Hornet Hive a “campus”. He was certainly larger than life and everyone knew he would amount to something wonderful -- and he has.

I know, I know, he and his bag of skills and talents can be kind of irritating, but his wonderful personality and genuine love and respect for others makes it tolerable. He kind of reminds me of my neighbor, just down the block. Just this summer I had to go realign the guy. I walked up to him while he was watering his plants and hollered, “Hey neighbor, why can’t you just relax a little bit and dial back all the super-husband and super-dad stuff – you are making my life significantly more difficult and challenging than what it really needs to be!”

He asked, “How so?”

I said, “Well, you are constantly working on your perfectly manicured lawn, washing the family cars every weekend, playing catch in your yard with your boys and other kids from around the community, jogging around the neighborhood bright and early each and every morning – and, if you ask me, your behavior is absolutely absurd!

My wife sees you doing all of this great stuff and she expects me to act more like you. It’s ridiculous! Come on man, what’s next – having flowers delivered to your home every week for your wife?!?” He laughed and said, “Well, I have them delivered to her office once a week, but that’s not a bad idea either Howard.”

Like my neighbor, Mike Nigl is cut from a very special cloth. And even though he has always made “grading on the curve” – both back in the day in high school and now as an adult in everyday life – more challenging for the rest of us – his inner desire to be so very good at basically everything can only be described as something spectacular. And now it is our time to be “great for him” – we must act individually and collectively to fight with him and to fight for him.

Sure, he can he be irritating -- just like my neighbor regularly is, but it’s that very good kind of irritating – the kind that inspires and motivates others to be better – better parents, better husbands and wives, better sons and daughters, better friends... better people.

Even though I have never told him this, and I can’t imagine I will tell him this now, either (the male ego can sometimes get in the way, you know), I have always looked up to, respected and admired Mike Nigl, and I, for one, can’t help but to join the effort to “Fight With Mike”.