• MLB analyst for ESPN and ESPN.com • Played nine major league seasons with the Cubs, Phillies and Rangers
No matter who you are, there are times and places in baseball when you wonder how you got there. Saturday’s Hall of Fame East-West Classic at Doubleday Field in Cooperstown, New York, was one of those times for me. Being a small part of the greatness collected on the field that day was humbling, and the events of the weekend swirled in my mind as I stepped into the batter’s box.
The last time I’d hit in any competitive landscape was 13 years ago in the same Doubleday Stadium. Only two of my four children were born then, which meant this was the first (and maybe last) time they’d get to see their dad play. In addition to my resurrected baseball equipment that I pulled from storage, I was carrying 10 more unshaped pounds and a graying beard.
A lot had led up to this moment. The work of two captains, CC Sabathia and Chris Young, and the National Baseball Hall of Fame and Museum inspired a reunion of dozens of former major league stars. They assembled us to honor and recreate the Negro Leagues’ All-Star Game, an annual event that took place in MLB ballparks at the pinnacle of independent Black baseball. It was also a celebration of the Hall of Fame’s newest exhibit, The Souls of the Game: Voices of Black Baseball.
Everyone on the East-West roster was a big leaguer, or at least had been at one point, and we were also family on this day, connected by our common experiences and the constructs of color and race.
From the moment I checked in at the luxurious Otesaga Resort Hotel on Friday, I could feel the escalating sense that I had been invited to a royal ball. Then I saw the royalty. The lobby was teeming with greats of the game’s past: Dave Winfield, Ferguson Jenkins, Jim Rice, Ryne Sandberg, Fred McGriff, Ozzie Smith.
I was told I needed to try on my uniform, provided by the Hall of Fame, to make sure it fit. I unfurled it in my room, bit by bit, wondering if the measurements I gave were accurate. Once I had it on, I took a picture to send to my family. It was a different me than I envisioned. I kept thinking, “I look more like a coach.”
But I would be one of 24 players. Tony Gwynn Jr. and I wondered together how hard we should play. Before the bus trip over to the Hall, all of us got together to exhale and laugh, and officially open the new exhibit. Hall of Fame president Josh Rawitch teased us about the sometimes faulty measurements we’d sent in for our uniform sizes, saying “some of you said you were size medium.”
Prince Fielder, known during his career for his power and size, replied, “Why are you all looking at me?” and the room broke out in laughter.
I might not be a size medium anymore, nor a Hall of Famer, but in the jaw-dropping awe of the exhibit’s opening it didn’t matter. The Hairston family was represented by Scott and Jerry Jr., whose grandfather, Sam, was a Triple Crown winner in the Negro Leagues. Fergie Jenkins was there to again honor his parents — his father, who could not rise in baseball due to his color, and his mother, who was blind. I worked on the committee that helped shape the new exhibit and I knew the tone that was set. This Hall of Souls was not about statistics, but humanity.
The red-carpet affair culminated with a ribbon-cutting ceremony. At one point, we all gathered for a picture. As I stood among the likes of Harold Baines, Ken Griffey Jr., Rollie Fingers, Jim Kaat, Joe Torre, Eddie Murray, Ozzie Smith, Lee Smith, Jenkins, McGriff, Rice, Sandberg and Winfield, I tweeted, “Did someone calculate the total Wins Above Replacement on that stage?”.
I also walked through the new exhibit for the first time. It’s a celebration of a Black experience that also provides a certain kind of armor, and an affirmation of the value and the impact Black baseball has had on the game we love. There was perseverance, dedication and the fight for equality. But there was also protection, unity and love. It allows us to point to the undeniably hard truths as we ran the bases of history, an antidote against dismissal of our trials with racism along the way. It is much harder to deny our experience when we have a shared story.
Documenting those stories — and initiatives just this week like adding Negro League marks to MLB’s leaderboards — builds a bridge to the past through the names we already know: Jackie Robinson, Roberto Clemente, Effa Manley. But more importantly, it’s a path to the many anonymous Black players who filled up rosters from coast to coast.
I particularly loved reading the published appeals made by many to demand equality. The words of Wendell Smith, a famed sports writer of the time, remind us that we were athletes but also advocates, in search of an ever-moving home plate.
On game day, we met to go over the lineups and took our spots 1 through 9 in the batting order.
I was batting ninth, as the designated hitter, which helped insure my 53-year-old body did not have to run too much. I listened to my teammates introduce themselves, and most had incredible baseball resumés. I had no All-Star Games or Gold Glove awards to speak of, so mine was left to my best season, when I hit .325 with 11 home runs. I wondered later what I should have added — my errorless streak to end my career, my hitting streaks in 1998, my stolen base success rate before the pitch clock?
But at game time, there was no turning back. We all were here and more importantly, we all deserved to be here. Fittingly, we had no names on our backs. We could not fit all of those who came before us on our jerseys, so we stood on their backs instead.
During the pregame festivities, the unforgettable conversations I’d been having ran through my mind. Getting ribbed by Sabathia for showing up with “so many bats.” Swapping stories with Murray over dinner. Mookie Wilson taking me back to a commercial I loved as a kid, when he was with the Mets. Being a part of this historic event was like jumping into a silent movie and finding out there are words being spoken, only no one else but us can hear them.
Just before first pitch, I thought of what poet Rowan Ricardo Phillips said during the ribbon-cutting ceremony about the listening required to hear the Black voices of baseball:
“And when you listen, you discover that chorus surrounds you like oxygen. Black baseball is literally everywhere.”
In its essence: Black baseball is like oxygen.
In many ways, the deep breath I normally take in the batter’s box felt freer this time. Maybe it was because I knew more about how I got into that box. It was palpable that I could share that revelation with a special kind of baseball family, some sitting in the stands, some suited up, who walked through the world in the uniform of darker skin.
In my first at-bat in the game, I executed my routine. I kicked my spikes into the dirt to set in motion my own personal baseball history — my nod to Mike Schmidt with a subtle tap of the outside corner of the plate.
I walked, and when I reached first, Fielder was standing there. I had played against his dad, Cecil. When we spoke, he said, “I know this is an exhibition, but it is so hard to turn it off.” “Impossible to turn it off,” I told him. (Even still, I didn’t try to steal second, though Tyson Ross was employing a high leg kick that I would have taken as an invitation in my younger days.)
But our competitive spirit was cooperative, just as the survival of the Negro Leagues depended on working together — as a business and as a community. At our East-West exhibition, I felt I had new teammates in time, where I am not alone in that batter’s box.
Fit for the drama, we were down 4-2 going into the bottom of the fifth inning. With two outs, up stepped Ryan Howard. He was a rookie in my last season with the Phillies, when I became an example for him of what happens when you age in this game. Years later, as his career was winding down, he told me: “Now I know how you felt when you got old.”
Now, we were all veterans. We were all making — and listening to — the sounds of the game, as we’d done for years or decades. And nothing is more undeniable than the crack of a bat on a well-struck baseball.
Howard’s made our dugout jump. “He got him,” I said.
And he had.
Exit velocity — unknown. Launch angle — who’s measuring? We knew by the senses we’d honed all of our lives.
The ball cleared the fence, giving us a 5-4 lead going into the last inning. We met at home plate to celebrate. (Most of us were too old to jump too high.)
It would turn out to be the winning swing, but we had already won the moment the first pitch was thrown.
When the game was over, I broke bread again with my teammates and our families. My family had seen me play — some for the first time, and possibly for the last — but I’d shared so much more than just at-bats. It was a day for history, honor, equality and the value of playing for something so much bigger than yourself.
Perhaps most of all, it was our tribute to the spirit of the game.
Later, back at the Hall, a fan came over to take a photo during an autograph session. She said this:
College football reporter; joined ESPN in 2008. Graduate of Northwestern University.
Georgia quarterback Carson Beck, who underwent surgery earlier this week to repair the ulnar collateral ligament in his right, throwing elbow, declared for the 2025 NFL draft Saturday.
In a social media post, Beck thanked his Georgia teammates and coaches, calling his time with the program “an incredible journey” and writing that he will be around to support the Bulldogs during their College Football Playoff run, which begins Wednesday against No. 7 seed Notre Dame in a quarterfinal matchup at the Allstate Sugar Bowl in New Orleans.
Beck injured his elbow on the final play of the first half against Texas in the SEC championship game Dec. 7. Renowned orthopedic surgeon Dr. Neal ElAttrache performed Beck’s surgery Monday in Los Angeles. Beck is expected to make a full recovery, according to the school, and he will resume throwing in the spring.
The 6-foot-4, 220-pound quarterback is in his fifth year at Georgia, but he had another year of eligibility because of the COVID year in 2020 and appeared in only three games in 2021.
Beck, a native of Jacksonville, Florida, went 24-3 as Georgia’s starter the past two seasons. He entered the fall as one of the top NFL prospects at quarterback. ESPN’s Mel Kiper Jr. listed Beck and Colorado‘s Shedeur Sanders as the top quarterbacks for the 2025 draft entering the season. Kiper’s latest Big Board lists Beck as the No. 4 draft-eligible quarterback prospect, behind Sanders, Miami‘s Cam Ward and Alabama‘s Jalen Milroe.
Beck did not match his 2023 numbers this fall but still finished with 3,485 passing yards, 28 touchdowns and 12 interceptions, 11 of which he threw during a five-game midseason stretch. He had 7,426 passing yards and 52 touchdowns over the past two seasons for Georgia, and he was a two-time finalist for the Manning Award and was a second-team All-SEC selection in 2023.
Redshirt sophomore Gunner Stockton replaced Beck in the SEC title game, which Georgia won 22-19 in overtime, and will start against Notre Dame.
College Football Senior Writer for ESPN. Insider for College Gameday.
UConn football coach Jim Mora has agreed to a new contract that includes two additional years that will take him through the 2028 season, the school announced Saturday.
The deal includes a raise to an average of $2.5 million annually over the course of the deal. He made $1.81 million in base salary in 2024, and the new deal will increase that base to $2.1 million in 2025.
Mora’s deal comes after he revived UConn football in his first three years at the school. He took over a program that went 1-11 in the year before his arrival and has led it to two bowl games in three years.
That includes an 8-4 regular season in 2024, which earned UConn a spot in the Wasabi Fenway Bowl against North Carolina on Saturday.
“Three years ago, I tasked Jim Mora with the challenge of leading our football team back to success and through his experience, energy and leadership he has done just that,” UConn athletic director David Benedict said in a statement. “He has taken our program to post season bowl games twice and just guided our team to one of the best seasons in UConn football history, building a momentum to keep this program moving forward. I look forward to his leadership of our football team in the years ahead.”
If Mora leads UConn to a win over North Carolina, it will mark the Huskies’ first nine-win season since 2007 and just the third nine-win season in school history. UConn went to the Myrtle Beach Bowl in Mora’s first year in 2022, the school’s first bowl game since Bob Diaco led the Huskies to the St. Petersburg Bowl in 2015.
Mora is a veteran coach who had two stints in the NFL with the Atlanta Falcons and Seattle Seahawks. He is in his ninth season as a college head coach, as he took the UCLA job in 2012 and had a successful stint there that included a pair of 10-win seasons. UCLA hasn’t won 10 games in a season since Mora left.
He mentioned at the Fenway Bowl news conference Friday that UConn went undefeated against Group of 5 teams this season, with its losses against Maryland, Duke, Wake Forest and Syracuse.
The 8-0 record against teams outside the power leagues, Mora noted, made UConn one of three Group of 5 teams to go undefeated against Group of 5 competition. He said that was a sign of UConn’s growth as a program.
“For this program, we want to start not just competing with but beating Power 4 teams,” Mora said, “and making the statement that we are becoming very relevant again on the football field.”
PROVO, Utah — For BYU defensive coordinator Jay Hill, the offseason carried a lingering sense of frustration.
After nine years as the head coach at FCS Weber State, Hill joined longtime friend Kalani Sitake’s staff at BYU ahead of the Cougars’ much-anticipated move to the Big 12. The season started promisingly, but after a 5-2 start, the Cougars lost their last five games to miss a bowl game and finished one game out of last place in the conference.
“We all felt like we were a better team last year than maybe the record showed,” Hill said.
With nine months between games, it can feel like there is too much time to stew over what went wrong, but as the offseason progressed Hill was encouraged. He saw players who were a little more disciplined, a little tougher, a little better with responsibilities.
Hill was working as many as 90 hours a week, and as training camp came to a close at the end of August, he believed the Cougars were prepared to take a significant step forward. And if they didn’t, it wouldn’t be for lack of effort on his part.
At 49 years old, Hill doesn’t lack energy. A former cornerback at Utah, he runs regularly, lifts weights with players, plays pickup basketball and — outside of a Mountain Dew habit — has kept a generally healthy diet. Last season, he experienced some unusual lightheadedness while running, but after getting checked in the spring, he was told there was nothing to worry about.
“They were doing a bunch of heart tests just to make sure that the blood was pumping and everything was going well,” Hill said. “And I did all those tests, and everything came back better than normal. I felt like I was in great shape for someone my age.”
All of that is a backdrop for what made Thursday, Aug. 29, so shocking.
The night before, he complained to his wife, Sarah, that he was experiencing heartburn. When he described a localized pain in his chest, she was skeptical, but he figured it was something that would subside with a night’s sleep.
It did not. After practice, he lifted weights with players. That didn’t help. Then he sat in a sauna. That made it worse. He went through with plans to get a haircut on his way home, and that’s when he finally let himself believe something might be seriously wrong.
“I just started sweating so bad that the poor girl that was cutting my hair grabbed a towel, and she was wiping me off,” Hill said. “I felt so embarrassed. And then she took the cape off me and my pants were just drenched.
“I was having a heart attack, and I didn’t know it. Right in the barber chair, I’m having a heart attack.”
BYU did turn things around this season, winning its first nine games and earning a spot in the Valero Alamo Bowl against Colorado (7:30 p.m. ET Saturday, ABC). And it did so with one of its most important assistants in the coaches’ box, monitored by his wife.
SARAH HILL WAS home when her husband called to tell her he was in bad shape and on his way from the barbershop. She told him to stay put, and she would come get him, but he insisted he could make the short drive.
They stayed on the line as Sarah tracked his progress with the Find My app.
“I kept trying to convince him to just pull over and I would come get him — and then he wasn’t able to talk,” Sarah said. “I said, ‘OK, if you can’t talk then I’m getting in the car and I’ll find you right now. I can see where you’re at. I’ll come to you.'”
At about this point, Jay turned into their neighborhood and made it safely to their house. He got out of his truck, made his way to their back porch and lay down.
“I knew at that point it was a heart attack,” Sarah said. “I knew that I had a short amount of time, but I also was very calm and very at peace that it wasn’t going to be what takes his life.”
Sarah acted swiftly and firmly, telling him he needed to get back in the truck and she was taking him to the hospital, about a 7-minute drive. At first, Jay insisted he just needed to catch his breath, to which Sarah responded, “Get in the truck or I’m calling 911.”
At the hospital, things were a blur. With Sarah by his side, he was immediately whisked to a room for testing.
“[The physician’s assistant] pulled the paper out of the computer, and she just turned around and it wasn’t 10 seconds, 15 seconds before the doctor was in there saying, ‘You’re having a heart attack, we got to go [to surgery],'” Jay said.
Jay felt helplessness.
“I think I was still pretty calm. And in that moment, what do you do?” Jay said. “You just kind of go along with what they’re telling you. I remember something vividly going through my head, ‘No way. Not me. You’re too young. I thought I was in shape. This can’t be happening to me.'”
During the successful surgery, which Sarah estimates took about an hour, the doctors found that his right coronary artery was 100% blocked. They inserted a stent to open the artery and scheduled another procedure for two days later — the morning of BYU’s season opener against FCS Southern Illinois — to insert another stent into a different, partially blocked artery.
When Jay woke up, he felt much better, and the idea of sticking around until Saturday’s procedure was not appealing.
“They wanted to watch him the whole time,” Sarah said. “He’s like, ‘Nope, I got to get practice tomorrow. My son has a cross country meet. Can you release me to do this stuff and then I can come back and I’ll do the surgery next week?’ In his mind, he’s just like, ‘It’s the first week of the season, I need to get going.'”
SITAKE AND HILL have known each other since the late 1990s. They played against each other — Hill for Utah; Sitake for BYU — but a friendship was born when Kyle Whittingham made Hill and Sitake two of his first hires when he took over for Urban Meyer at Utah at the end of the 2004 season.
Their paths diverged after Hill took the job at Weber State following the 2013 season, but while he turned the Wildcats into a Big Sky and FCS power — winning four conference titles and reaching the playoffs six times — their relationship stayed intact.
“It wasn’t like there was this huge lapse, we’ve always been communicating,” Sitake said. “We’ve never gone a long period of time without talking and we’ve always been in each other’s lives.”
So when Sitake was looking for a new defensive coordinator and Hill was getting the urge to get back to the Power 5 level at the end of the 2022 season, the timing worked for them to reunite in Provo, where they picked up where they left off nearly a decade ago.
It is not unusual for Hill to call Sitake late at night, so when his phone buzzed that Thursday, he answered, “What’s up, bro?”
Sarah was on the other end, and delivered the news from the hospital. Sitake was shocked but quickly offered to help in any way he could. Shortly after they got off the phone, texts from Jay started arriving. Then he called. Fresh out of life-saving surgery, he was concerned about how BYU would call the defensive plays in two days.
“Bro, you don’t need to call me. Just rest,” Sitake said. “We can talk about this later.”
When BYU met as a team the next afternoon, Jay remained at the hospital. Sitake told the players what had happened, then Jay joined the meeting via FaceTime.
“We were all pretty shocked because Coach Hill is a super active, healthy guy,” safety Tanner Wall said. “But he made it very clear from that moment that he didn’t want us to be distracted or worry about him, but to worry about going and winning our game.”
At the hospital, Jay was negotiating. He was told he would feel even better the next day after he underwent his second angioplasty procedure, after which it was recommended he should go home and rest.
But what if he went to the game and sat in the coaches’ box and watched?
“What the doctor said was, ‘I would not recommend it. Ultimately, you get to make the decision, but I wouldn’t recommend it,'” Jay said. “And I just told him, I’m going to watch the game one way or the other. So whether I’m at the stadium or at the house, I’m going to watch the game. So I might as well be at the stadium where I feel like I at least have a little bit of control.”
After his second surgery in less than 48 hours, Jay made his way to LaVell Edwards Stadium about an hour before kickoff. As he was escorted down to the field, he wasn’t feeling well, and it was there when he was embraced by his players that the mental stress of it all caught up with him.
“I don’t ever get emotional, but I got so emotional going on the field,” he said. “This is where I want to be — down on the field — and I can’t.”
Jay usually calls plays from the field, but he was relegated to the coaches’ box, where Sarah joined him. During the game, Sitake and linebackers coach Justin Enna shared playcalling duties on defense. Jay wore a headset and had the play sheet in front of him, but he mostly sat back and let his colleagues take the reins.
He was under strict doctors’ orders not to get too excited during the game, but his natural instincts made that a tough assignment. When signs of emotion started to show, there was Sarah — with a subtle squeeze of his leg or a knowing glance — to reel him back in.
It helped that BYU won comfortably 41-13 and that the defense made the game enjoyable for Jay.
“It was fun for me to sit in the box and just watch all the hard work from fall camp,” Jay said. “The players executed, they rallied behind what had just happened with the heart attack — for me it was a pretty surreal moment just to sit up there and kind of just see it from afar.”
HILL DECIDEDHIS brush with death wouldn’t require any sort of lengthy absence from the team.
The coaching staff had Sunday off, but he was back in the office at 8 a.m. Monday, ready to work a full day ahead of that Friday’s game at SMU.
But he also realized there needed to be some concessions. During practice, he sat on a balcony overlooking the field and coached with a headset. He cut Mountain Dew and was more careful about his diet. Sarah joined him for regular walks that replaced his usual runs and weightlifting.
Hill was advised that most patients in his situation were supposed to take it easy for four to six weeks, and that a full recovery was six months out.
“In his mind as a coach, what does that mean, taking it easy?” Sarah said. “If they work 90 hours a week sometimes, does that mean now you’re just working 60?”
Jay’s path to recovery ran parallel with an encouraging start to the season for BYU. A brilliant defensive performance led the Cougars to an 18-15 win against SMU — it would be the Mustangs’ only loss in the regular season — and they made quick work of Wyoming to move to 3-0.
After the win in Laramie, Sitake walked into a celebratory locker room. It was a scene he usually would have been thrilled to see.
“There’s this big monster pit of dancing going on and there is Jay Hill in the middle of it,” Sitake said. “So, I go and pull him out and am like, ‘What are you doing? You’re not supposed to be doing that.’
“He just lives life, man. But we have had to watch him a little bit, because he’s always worried about others and focused on helping them get the energy they need.”
On one occasion, multiple staff members noticed that Hill’s complexion wasn’t right, so cornerbacks coach Jernaro Gilford called Sarah. Hill went home early.
“He gets into it and loses himself in the work and the service and what he’s trying to accomplish,” Sitake said. “And that’s what makes him special. But it’s also why we have to kind of watch out for him. It’s OK. We can be our brother’s keeper for a little bit.”
Sarah was there for Jay at every step. For the first several games of the season, she remained with him in the coaches’ box during games. They would measure his blood pressure before the game and monitor it as needed.
The fourth game of the season was at home against No. 13 Kansas State. On the field before the game, Jay felt his heart start to race. That was his cue to head up to the box, where he measured his blood pressure with alarming results. It was on par with the reading on the day of his heart attack.
“It was like 200 over 130 or something like that, stupid high,” Jay said. “And that scared me a little bit. That was a moment where I’m like, ‘If we don’t figure out how to monitor this, I don’t know if I can coach.”
(At this level, it is recommended to consult a doctor immediately, according to the American Heart Association.)
Sarah did her best to keep him calm, and the numbers improved a bit as the game began. But after the Cougars scored 31 straight points during a chaotic run between the second and third quarters, he was back in the danger zone.
“Then after the game, we win, and I think that’s when it kind of starts to drop and chill out a lot,” Jay said.
It wasn’t the first time Sarah and Jay, who have four children — Ashtyn, Alayna, Allie and Jacob — went through a medical scare together. This time, Sarah’s role as his de facto caretaker represented a role reversal in their relationship.
In 2016, she was diagnosed with Stage 4 Hodgkin lymphoma. It required a year and a half of intense treatment that included radiation, a bone marrow transplant and several rounds of chemotherapy. Going through that, she said, allowed her to maintain a sense of calm when helping her husband through his time of need.
“I was in the hospital for a month, and getting that perspective switch of me coming in, watching him in a hospital bed and him sitting in the hospital bed was actually a really beautiful experience,” Sarah said. “We were able to experience the other person’s side, and you just grow in love and compassion for each other, having experienced the opposite.
“So, we have joked that it’s a competition of who cannot die the best.”
Sarah’s original diagnosis, like Jay’s, came during fall camp. Throughout the season, he would accompany her to chemotherapy treatments every other Wednesday and do his best to be there for her while managing the demands of being a head coach.
Jay said they both felt the support of an entire college football program.
“I saw a very special thing in both instances where the team kind of rallied behind us,” he said. “The team rallied for sure behind her and her cancer situation. I’ll bet you 90 percent of the players shaved their heads that year. It was a pretty special moment of just how players can offer support and show someone that they loved her.”
AS HILL’S RECOVERY progressed through the season, BYU kept winning.
After beginning the year picked to finish 13th in the 16-team Big 12, the Cougars won their first nine games to rise to No. 6 in the College Football Playoff rankings. But just as the prospect of receiving a first-round bye started to seem possible, BYU lost back-to-back close games to Kansas and Arizona State in November.
The Cougars finished in a four-way tie with Colorado, Iowa State and ASU, with tiebreakers sending ISU and ASU through to the Big 12 title game.
After missing on a chance to play for the conference title, BYU and Colorado — which did not play during the regular season — were selected to play in the Alamo Bowl.
“It’s been great having him here, but it’s been really cool to see him recover and help us have the type of year we’ve had,” Sitake said. “We anticipated that we were going to have something special this year — even from the beginning — and he’s a big part of that.”
After BYU ranked near the bottom of the country in almost every major defensive category in 2022, this year it was among the best. The Cougars finished the season ranked No. 1 in the Big 12 in scoring defense (20.1 points per game), total defense (317 yards per game) and forced turnovers (27). Hill was nominated for the Broyles Award, given to the top assistant in college football.
“I think if you look at our defense over the past two seasons, you can definitely see the impact that he’s made,” senior defensive end Tyler Batty said. “His impact is unmistakable for sure.”
It resonates far beyond the X’s and O’s.
“This dude had a heart attack, and the same day he was operated on, he is at our game in the booth,” Batty said. “It just goes to show that he is a great example of grit and resilience. Guys like him and Kalani are guys you want to run through a wall for.”
By the last quarter of the season, Hill felt like he was back to normal. He returned to the practice field midway through the season and ramped up the intensity of his workouts near the end. Routine check-ins with his doctor have continued, and the signs have been positive.
For Hill, though, the major takeaway from the past few months hasn’t come from his recovery.
“I think we’re a little better in all areas as a team and it’s made a huge impact on just the success overall,” he said. “And then to see that pay off in wins has been pretty special.”