Lately, I’ve been thinking about University of Michigan football more than usual.
Part of that is because Dan and I recently recorded a podcast with former University of Michigan offensive lineman Brian Wallace. Brian and I share something beyond a connection to Michigan football—we were both diagnosed with Multiple Sclerosis (MS) in 1997.
Our conversation brought back a flood of memories, many of them tied to my dad, Victor. I miss him every single day. He passed away on October 5, 2024, and I can only imagine how excited he would have been to know that Dan and I had the chance to speak with a Michigan player about football, life, and living with MS.
Thinking about that conversation and thinking about my dad made me want to revisit something I wrote several years ago.
(You can listen to our conversation with Brian on the A Couple Takes on MS Podcast here: [link to podcast episode].)

Growing up Maize and Blue
I’ve always been a daddy’s girl, and as such, I grew up going to Michigan football games with my dad.
The Maize and Blue always has been in my dad’s family. His father—my grandfather, Steve Urick—played for the Wolverines baseball team in the late 1930s, and, well, University of Michigan Athletics essentially is part of our Urick family DNA.
Because of Grandpa Steve and my dad, I heard more stories about the rivalry between Michigan football coach Bo Schembechler and Ohio State coach Woody Hayes than most little girls ever cared—or wanted—to hear. But I couldn’t hear enough about them and eventually couldn’t see enough of the battles at Michigan’s “Big House.”
Throughout my teenage years, I sat through warm afternoons and freezing November temperatures at Michigan home games, standing through every “Hail to the Victors,” celebrating every win, and hearing my dad’s rivalry-inspired declaration:

“Oh, how I hate Ohio State,” even when the Buckeyes weren’t playing Michigan.
Call it a hunch—or simply “Go Blue” intuition—but I knew the 1997 season was going to be something special.
Each Saturday home game, my dad, brother, BF Johanna, and I drove down U.S. 23 from Flint to Ann Arbor to tailgate with chips and yummy homemade turkey sandwiches courtesy of my mom, Pam.
Then we’d head into the Big House and cheer on Michigan stars like quarterback Brian Griese and eventual Heisman Trophy winner Charles Woodson as they marched toward what would become a national championship season.
But I never made it to the final home game of that historic year.
The season everything changed
Less than 10 days before it, I began experiencing double vision and numbness in my hands and feet. Those symptoms led to a series of doctor visits and tests that resulted in a diagnosis I never expected.
Multiple Sclerosis.
When my neurologist said, “It looks like you definitely have MS,” I was somewhat relieved. Earlier conversations with doctors had suggested my symptoms might be caused by a brain tumor.
Still, as I tried to process the diagnosis, the first question that came to mind probably says everything about how much Michigan football meant to me.
“Does this mean I can’t go to next week’s Michigan game?”
My neurologist looked at me in disbelief and strongly advised against it. He explained the realities of what I would now be living with: symptoms like fatigue, spasticity, difficulty adjusting to extreme cold, and the amount of energy it would take just to get through the day.
All of it, he feared, had the potential to worsen my MS.
So I stayed home and watched the game on television.
That day, my beloved No. 1-ranked Wolverines defeated the No. 4-ranked Buckeyes, securing their path to the Rose Bowl and what would become a share of the 1997 national championship.
Yes, I watched the game live.
But it wasn’t the same.
And in that moment, I realized something else wasn’t the same anymore either.
I was now living with Multiple Sclerosis.
The lesson MS taught me
Years later, I sometimes look back and wonder if I should have tried to make it to that game anyway.

Without even giving myself the chance, I let MS make the decision for me.
Maybe it was the right decision at the time, but it still leaves me wondering: What if?
That experience taught me something important.
I never again wanted to look back at a missed opportunity and wonder whether I had allowed Multiple Sclerosis to decide something for me.
Interestingly, my husband, Dan, had a similar moment shortly after his own MS diagnosis when he chose not to go on a mission trip to El Salvador with his church.
Together, we learned our lesson.
Today we respect this disease, but we believe in ourselves more.
We refuse to let Multiple Sclerosis take more from us than it deserves.
If we hadn’t learned that lesson, we might never have:
- Written our book
- Pursued our graduate degrees
- Traveled to speak about living with MS in places like Philadelphia, Houston, Louisville, and New Orleans
Michigan football may not be the reason for those decisions.
But it certainly helped shape the mindset behind them.
A mindset that reminds me to live this MS life without regrets.
No regrets.
And as always…
Go Blue.
Editor’s Note
I wrote this essay several years ago and lightly updated it to accompany our recent podcast conversation with former University of Michigan offensive lineman Brian Wallace.
The post The biggest Michigan game I missed and the lesson MS taught me appeared first on A Couple Takes on MS.
Source: acoupletakesonms.com