They call it “22.”
In one of Marreon Jackson’s last waking moments on the first Monday of April, he and his Toledo basketball teammates lined up on the baseline for a series of sprints.
The objective: Run down and back the length of the 94-foot court at Savage Arena, twice in 22 seconds.
It was any other drill.
“Any other day,” Jackson said.
Until it wasn’t.
VIDEO: Marreon Jackson
Early in the 9 a.m. conditioning session, the sophomore point guard from outside Cleveland began to feel dizzy, his chest burning. Then, suddenly ...
Call 911!
Jackson had collapsed to the hardwood, unresponsive.
In the same arena where the memory of former Rockets center Haris Charalambous remains a daily presence — his banner in the rafters a poignant reminder to savor every moment — a distant nightmare had returned.
Here was a perfectly healthy 19-year-old kid with a smile as big as his game, last seen in Cleveland fearlessly hitting one big shot after another in leading the Rockets to the Mid-American Conference title game.
A popular hoops star so full of life.
Still on the cold floor.
“I’ve never seen anything like it,” said Rockets forward Willie Jackson, a fellow Garfield Heights native who grew up with Marreon. “We were scared.”
By the time a trainer raced over, Jackson had a pulse but remained unconscious, his breathing shallow. Jackson remembers coming to in the ambulance, then passing back out.
Paramedics feared a major cardiac episode, as did the doctors at ProMedica Toledo Hospital, where next thing Jackson knew, he awoke in a haze.
It was 2 a.m.
Surrounded by his parents and younger brother, covered in tubes and wires, tears welling in his eyes, he wondered the same as everyone else.
What happened?
“I don’t know,” his dad, Herman, replied.
From there, during and after a week in the hospital, the search for the answer spared no stone or expense, prompting a cyclone of tests, a detailed reconstruction of the 24 hours leading up to the incident — which proved a telling puzzle piece — and ultimately a trip to the top cardiology experts in the world at the Mayo Clinic in Rochester, Minn.
Strangely, wonderfully, everyone agreed.
There was no answer.
Not a grim one, anyway. Doctors had their theories on what happened — more on that in a minute — but found no evidence of the worst. Jackson’s heart was fine, and so was he to return to the court, same as ever.
Well, that’s not quite true.
Same as ever? The rest of the Mid-American Conference can only hope.
“They’re going to feel my wrath this year,” Jackson said. “God definitely had mercy on me that day.”
He will not forget it, either.
For the incurable hoophead, the incident lent clarity to a purpose already clear.
After last season, Jackson told his dad, “I can’t wait until next year.” Now, next year is this year, and he is ready for his moment.
On a deep Rockets team, no one will enjoy a more expanded role with the graduation of league player of the year Tre’Shaun Fletcher.
We got a preview last season, the rubber-peeling playmaker with the sweet touch proving a steady supporting actor, then the lead when needed. After Fletcher shredded his knee against Eastern Michigan in a MAC semifinal game, the big-play freshman had his back, hitting the tying and winning 3-pointers in the final minute to punctuate a 26-point night.
Next March? Jackson expects more where that came from, only with a different ending.
“This time,” he said, “we’re going to finish it.”
Have we mentioned Jackson — a media communication major — someday wants to be the next Stephen A. Smith on TV and does not lack for confidence?
Rockets coach Tod Kowalczyk, for one, loves it, and does Jackson one better.
“He could leave here as the best point guard in school history,” Kowalczyk said. “He’s got that type of ability. You look at the guys who came through here. We had a great one with Juice Brown. Third all-time leading scorer at Toledo. Second all-time in assists. Pretty decorated career, and Marreon is right there with him after his freshman year. We’ll see how it develops.”
In any case, Jackson looks forward to the journey, thankful for an opportunity on a team he loves that feels like a second chance.
He said his mind is free.
Yes, it is natural to wonder if he remains at risk.
As much as the tests revealed Jackson’s heart to be healthy — and as much in those first days that he insisted he was fine — the cardiology team in Toledo knew 19-year-olds do not collapse for no reason. Doctors worried his heart had momentarily stopped, and, for peace of mind, recommended he receive a defibrillator implant.
“We know something happened, Marreon,” Herman remembers telling his son. “When a car breaks down, we don’t know what’s wrong with it, but we take it to the mechanic. The mechanic doesn’t see it happen, but we know something happened.”
Ultimately, though, the clues kept pointing away from the heart.
After a week in Toledo — where Kowalczyk called Dr. Johan Aasbo a “rock star” for his care — Jackson and Brian Jones, the university’s director of sports medicine and men’s basketball trainer, traveled to the Mayo Clinic to see a specialist. There, they met Dr. Michael Ackerman, a leading expert on the risk factors for sudden death, and Jackson underwent three more days of evaluation.
Ackerman was at a similar loss.
Finally, he ascribed the scare to a phenomenon known as exercise swoon. Ackerman believes Jackson passed out not because of a heart defect but a more benign combination of stress, dehydration, and an empty stomach. As it were, Jackson had last eaten late in the afternoon the day before the workout, then overslept Monday, leading to a panicked dash to the arena. A perfect storm. Ackerman cleared his patient to return.
“He could not find anything that led to a cardiac event,” Jones said. “We felt much, much better walking out of there.”
Soon enough, back on to the court.
Jackson will continue to wear an implantable loop recorder, a device the size of a pack of chewing gum that records his heart rhythm and is monitored by Toledo Hospital. He and Jones will follow up with Ackerman in the spring too.
But otherwise, Jackson is good to go. In almost losing it all, he gained everything.
“My whole view is different,” Jackson said. “I love this game, and to have it almost taken away ... I am blessed.”
First Published October 26, 2018, 8:56 p.m.
