Coble a cornerstone in mom's battle

Northwestern's Kevin Coble and his mom, Carlys, used to be 1-on-1 rivals on the basketball court. She was always the comforting force in Kevin's life, but Kevin has taken that role since Carlys was diagnosed with breast cancer.

Kevin Coble's first moment in the spotlight came as an infant on Thanksgiving Day, 1988.

With his dad, Randy, videotaping a family get-together in North Carolina, Kevin squirmed in his aunt's arms, screaming at the full range of his 1-year-old lungs.

"Everyone was trying to calm me down, but I just wasn't happy," Kevin said. "Finally, my aunt handed me off to my mom and it was like someone flipped a switch.

"All of the sudden I was quiet."

For 20 years, Carlys Coble has been that comforting force in Kevin's life.

When he reached out his arms as a diaper-bound toddler, she was there with a hug.

When he whizzed his Ernie in the Tub across the hardwood floors, Carlys was there to catch it and slide it back.

When he needed a 1-on-1 partner for pickup basketball, Carlys would show off her skills.

"I used to beat him," she boasted.

When Kevin led Scottsdale (Ariz.) Christian to consecutive Class 2A basketball state championships in 2004 and 2005, Carlys was ready with the treats as team mom.

And when he was named to the Big Ten all-freshman team last year at Northwestern after leading the Wildcats in scoring (13.4) and rebounding (5.2), Carlys was there -- at every single game.

So when Carlys found out she had breast cancer in late July, and that it had spread into her lymph nodes, Kevin decided it was time to reverse roles.

He took a leave of absence from the Wildcats last month to return to Scottsdale while Carlys undergoes chemotherapy and radiation treatment.

He is still taking three long-distance classes at Northwestern, he still follows his team on television via the Big Ten Network on satellite dish, and he is still working out with his old club and strength coaches with the hope that he'll be back on the Welsh-Ryan Arena court in time for the opener of the Big Ten portion of the Wildcats' schedule Jan. 2 against Penn State.

Northwestern coach Bill Carmody said the team supports Coble's decision to be with his mother "and we will welcome him back whenever he feels ready to return."

But for now, all that is secondary.

"Knowing his priorities and knowing his faith and thought process, it didn't surprise me at all that he chose to come home," Carlys, 52, said. "But I was thrilled to death that he did because I couldn't do this without him."

It was a routine self-exam that gave Carlys her first indication that something was wrong.

"I just felt a little something under my armpit," she said.

A mammogram and a subsequent ultrasound led doctors to recommend a surgical biopsy.

When the surgeon emerged from the operating room at Good Samaritan Hospital, a host of family members and friends crowded the waiting room, their lives intertwined with the Cobles through business, church, charity and school.

"I don't know why, but there was just something in my gut saying this wasn't right from the start," Kevin said. "So I wasn't necessarily surprised when the doctor said that it was cancer. It just confirmed what I was so afraid of."

Randy and Kevin shared a moment of grief with the group.

"I've never seen my dad so emotional," Kevin said.

And then the Cobles did what any other family would do after learning bad news.

They threw a barbecue.

"People were calling me to express their sympathies and they were like, 'What's all that noise?' " Carlys said.

Kevin can only remember three times in his life when his mom was ill.

"And she always fought through it -- never stopped going," he said.

So the family made plans for Carlys to undergo treatment in Chicago so she could still be on hand for Northwestern's games.

One treatment in, it was apparent that wasn't going to happen.

"I don't think we grasped that this wasn't like having a cold for a few days," Kevin said. "This was serious."

Carlys reached the midway point of her six treatments last Thursday. Her last treatment is scheduled for mid-January, and it can't come soon enough.

"The hardest part of it has been the unpredictability of how I'll feel," she said. "I can feel great one day and think I'm past it and then the next it just wipes me out."

The treatments, which both Kevin and Randy attend, have forced Carlys to curtail the host of volunteer and charitable works that have defined her since Kevin can remember.

They've also forced Kevin into a parental role, straightening the house clutter, grilling steaks with his dad and sitting with his mom.

"Sometimes I have to tell him to leave the house because he just won't go," Carlys said.

The experience has also forced a re-examination of Kevin's faith.

"I spent my whole life seeing the great things she did for people, so it was almost like, 'How can this be happening?' " he said. "I think I might have taken a few steps back in order to take a lot of steps forward with my faith. Not that I necessarily found answers, but I found some peace, some understanding in knowing that this is not from God. It's not His plan to hurt her.

"For a while, nothing seemed right. Everything seemed turbulent, so to finally find a quiet haven was nice."

Randy's even-keel approach also helped.

"Probably more so than I give him credit for," Kevin said. "Sometimes I interpret it as him taking it lightly and I get upset, but then, half an hour later, I hear his words and in a quiet moment I realize he's right. She does have a really good prognosis and it's all going to work out.

"That really would be the greatest blessing I can think of."