After losing both parents, Mahan found support in friends and family
BY KATIE McVOY
Associate Sports Editor
Sean Mahan lived the life of an All-American boy. He grew up in a comfortable neighborhood in Tulsa, Okla. with his parents and his sister. He played basketball and wrestled. His first love was football and he was good at it. He was just the boy next door.
Then his whole life changed.
During the summer of 1996, right before Mahan entered his junior year in high school, a year during which his football team would win a state championship, Mahan's father passed away. Just two years later, in October of his freshman year at Notre Dame, his mother lost her long battle with cancer and left Mahan an orphan.
"It has been very difficult," Mahan said. "It's something you never expect as a teenager or a child — to lose your parents."
By his sophomore year in high school, Mahan seemed to have it pretty much figured out. He had earned a starting spot on the Jenks High School football team, a team that did not allow a sack in all three years that Mahan started. He played football with a team of all-stars, including last year's Dick Butkus award winner Rocky Calmus. By his senior year, Mahan had two state championships under his belt.
His father would not be able to watch those wins. Michael Mahan, a 1964 graduate of Notre Dame, fell victim to a heart attack in the summer of 1996.
With his decision about college just around the college, his father's legacy weighed heavily on Mahan's mind.
"I definitely thought about it," Mahan said. "It was definitely in the back of my mind. I talked about it with my mom and she just wanted to make sure that whatever decision I made I was happy with it."
Mahan knew about the Notre Dame legacy and his father stayed in the back of his mind. But he wanted to keep his mind open.
"When I was being recruited by schools, I wanted to make sure and have an open door policy with everyone recruiting me," he said. "[I wanted] to make sure I checked every place out to make sure I made the right decision."
Even with just his mother around to talk him through his decision, Mahan knew that both of his parents would have been proud of whatever path he chose.
"They both would have supported me with whatever decision I made," Mahan said.
When it came down to it, whether it was the legacy of his sister, his father and his uncle attending Notre Dame or whether it was just a feeling, Mahan chose Notre Dame.
"Everything just weighed in and it felt like the right place for me," Mahan said.
Mahan knew he was choosing Notre Dame for the football, for the tradition and for the academics. He didn't know he was choosing a support system.
Halfway through his freshman season, which he sat out to preserve a year of eligibility, Mahan received a disturbing phone call from home. His mother, who had battled with cancer when Mahan was younger, had undergone surgery to correct a brain clot.
The surgery was successful, but Mahan's mother had passed away unexpectedly following the surgery.
"She had cancer when I was younger," Mahan said. "But she had diabetes and her body just started to fall apart."
Mahan was not alone when he received that phone call. The first line of his support system was there when Mahan's sister, Lisa, told him that they had lost another parent. His teammate roommate on the road, Jordan Black, sat and listened as Mahan talked.
"I was actually there when he got the phone call," Black said. "And that was a hard thing to sit there and hear him listen to his sister telling him what happened. That was just real hard."
After he got the news, Mahan wasn't sure he was even going to stay at Notre Dame. The shock of losing both parents was something that could have sent any man back home. But, in choosing Notre Dame, Mahan had unexpectedly fallen upon a support system that would help carry him through the hardest times in his life.
"I was living in Siegfried Hall at the time and I had a bunch of friends living in the dorm that were very supportive," Mahan said. "And my friends on the team — Jordan Black, Mike McNair — they were very supportive, always helped me. … When it first happened, I didn't know if I wanted to come back, but they were so supportive that I wanted to come back and finish what I started."
Mahan stayed four more years.
But the five years Mahan spent at Notre Dame felt like a lot longer for a young man who had to learn to cope with more than just bad football games.
"I came in 1998. It feels like it was 20 years ago," Mahan said. "I've been here for half a decade."
But five years have found Mahan with more than just football statistics. A half a decade of football and a tragedy that no one expects to face left Mahan with friends that he didn't exactly bargain for when he came to Notre Dame to face off against opposing defensive lines.
"I think when something like [death] happens, everybody tries to get as close as they can to him and help him out," Black said. "I think the team responded and was there for him when he needed us."
In return, Mahan has brought a sense of strength to the offensive line. He has overcome major obstacles and continues to overcome the smaller obstacles of day-to-day life.
"He has a lot of respect among his teammates," offensive line coach Mike Denbrock said. "… I think he's a young man that any obstacle that's put in front of him, he's going to overcome it. Unfortunately, he's had to overcome tragedy that none of us would ever want to deal with and done a good job and become a solid young man."
Five football seasons later, Mahan has grown as a player and as a man. But there are some things that always stay the same.
Every week the Irish play a different team, they focus on different weapons their opponents use, they run out of the tunnel looking at different colored jerseys. Mahan has dealt with different coaches, he has met new teammates.
But one thing has never changed.
"There are always two [people] I dedicate games to," he said. "Every game is dedicated to them."
All Sports Stories for Friday, November 22, 2002
