Sierra shortstop Peterson plays with Hodgkin’s lymphoma

Tanner Peterson stood on second base, hands propped on his hips, inspecting the mess he and his teammates had just created.

With a 3-2 lead, Sierra High School was within one out of knocking off Manteca on Wednesday.

Instead, a series of bobbles and balls fueled the Buffaloes’ two-out, seventh-inning rally. The Timberwolves loaded the bases in their final at-bat but failed to produce the big hit in a 5-3 loss.

Peterson’s day ended on that bag, positioned closest to Manteca’s celebration. It was his error in the seventh that prolonged the Buffaloes’ rally, and the frustration collected in his brow.

And then, like a dirt cyclone spinning through the infield, it was gone.

The error and rivalry loss were the least of his concerns. They weren’t even the toughest part of his day.

At lunch, while his classmates sucked down soda and sunshine in the quad, Peterson was seated in a sterile room at a clinic in Turlock beginning a mock trial for four weeks of daily radiation treatment.

“Life isn’t always fair,” Sierra coach Jack Thomson said. “I feel so bad for what he’s having to go through, but then again, I feel so happy that he’s found a way to still be able to play.”

Peterson hopes the radiation is the final 90 feet in his recovery from Hodgkin’s lymphoma. The soft-spoken 18-year-old was diagnosed in December after experiencing chest pains and discovering a lump near his collarbone.

A visit to his pediatrician escalated into a trip to Stanford Hospital, where a biopsy was performed on the mass and a plan of action quickly was established.

The American Cancer Society estimates Hodgkin’s lymphoma will affect 8,500 people in the United States in 2016, mostly teenagers and young adults. Fortunately, modern medicine has significantly improved the survival rate. The one-year survival rate is about 92 percent, according to the American Cancer Society, while the 5- and 10-year rates are 86 and 80 percent

Still, the news hit with the force of a fastball to the ribs.

“Initially, it was devastating, especially when we didn’t know what type of lymphoma it was,” Peterson said. “It was a hard time. Once we found out the plan to get rid of it, things got a little better, but I was depressed the first month, thinking ‘Why me?’ ”

That black cloud wouldn’t hang overhead for long.

“Poor me” isn’t a part of Peterson’s genetic makeup. The middle son to Molly and Aaron Peterson, Tanner is a high achiever in the classroom and athletics. He’s a three-sport athlete with a bright future on the diamond, and he’s on track to graduate with honors in June. Tanner carries a 3.46 GPA and is ranked in the top 100 in his class.

In short, Tanner has never backed down from a challenge, whether it was replacing Gold Glove shortstop Dakota Conners or navigating a block schedule that included government and economics, English and a film studies elective.

Cancer would get his best swing, that much was certain.

“When I first found out I had cancer, my biggest worry was that other people would feel sorry for me and that they’d treat me differently,” he said. “I wanted to do everything I could so people would know everything would be OK.

“Being at school and going to church and playing baseball, it was something that helped me feel better about what others were thinking about me.”

Maintaining those commitments while undergoing chemotherapy and now radiation has taken its toll on the teenager. The medicine has thinned his blonde hair and 5-foot-9 frame and slowed him physically.

“I’ve definitely lost a step or two,” he said. “I’m not as strong out there, but I do what I can.”

Beneath his jersey is a port implanted on the right side of his chest. The port allowed doctors to access a main artery with an IV carrying the chemo, a poison that ravaged the cancer and his body.

These are the obstacles and scars Tanner signed up for, though.

He was presented with two options: a six-month treatment plan, which might have been easier on his body; or a more aggressive, four-month approach, which allowed him to play for Thomson.

“I’ve been doing this for 39 years, and I’ve seen players whose parents are going through an ugly divorce and players who have lost a parent or a sibling,” Thomson said. “Never have I had a player stricken with cancer and have to do what he’s doing.

“For most players, baseball becomes an escape. It’s three hours a day when nothing else matters. But cancer never leaves you. He can come to practice, but he’s still tired and beat up. I’ve never experienced anything like this. To me, his strength and courage is nothing short of phenomenal.”

Nearly two months into the season, Tanner is hitting .286 with 12 hits, seven RBIs and five runs. He has missed just one game because of his treatments.

“It’s been one of the biggest motivations for me to get through this,” said Tanner, who plans to play at Modesto Junior College next spring.

If baseball has been a motivation, so has the company of cancer survivors. Tanner has developed a unique bond with, of all people, his grandfather’s high school rival.

Fred Murray attended San Lorenzo High, where he played football against Molly’s father, LaMont Hunter, and Mt. Eden of Hayward.

Molly, Aaron Peterson and Murray would eventually forge a friendship through their Mormon faith. That relationship has survived two moves – a relocation to Manteca and later Murray’s move to Lincoln.

When he learned of Tanner’s diagnosis, Murray, who survived stomach cancer, used their shared passion for sports as a way to ease the young man’s fears.

His message: Don’t hang your head after a loss, whether it’s a seventh-inning collapse to a rival or a cancer diagnosis.

“He’s an athlete,” Murray said. “That makes a big difference right there. You’re used to working hard and you’re used to suffering losses. You’re high on wins and low on losses, and you always fight back. You learn that from playing sports.”

This story was originally published April 16, 2016 at 4:35 PM with the headline "Sierra shortstop Peterson plays with Hodgkin’s lymphoma."