Andy Hoffman, the father of Nebraska Cornhuskers fan and brain cancer patient Jack Hoffman, died Monday at his home in Atkinson, Nebraska. He was 42.
The Team Jack Foundation announced his death.
Andy Hoffman, a lawyer, has raised more than $ 8 million over the last decade of his life for Team Jack, a fundraiser to end childhood brain cancer, only to succumb to brain cancer himself. His diagnosis in July 2020 seems unfathomable, that two people from the same family may have brain cancer; that Andy, who runs marathons and works uninterrupted, had Glioblastoma multiforme, a rare and very aggressive cancer, with a survival rate of about one year.
“It’s such a horrible disease,” his wife, Bri, wrote in a Facebook post last week. “Even though Andy’s diagnosis was 7 months ago, we still deny it’s happening.”
Hoffman garnered second and third opinions and climbed out of two strokes to pick it up early last fall from the Mayo Clinic. He had two missions: to raise as much money as he could for Team Jack, and to spend every second he had with Bri, Jack and his daughters, Ava and Reese.
They went to cross country events and basketball games and on a hunting trip. Andy, an avid Nebraska football fan who put Jack in a Cornhuskers little one when he was a baby, could see his son playing his freshman football season at Atkinson West Holt High. Jack is now 15 and is part of a clinical trial that has prevented the tumor from growing. He is a linebacker, just like his father was in high school.
When Andy Hoffman’s condition worsened, Jack would come home from school and help take care of his father. In early February 2021, Andy contracted COVID-19 and, according to Bri’s Facebook message, ‘quickly got a monoclonal antibody fusion and did well. He recovered and had no symptoms after about day 5. ‘ But an MRI taken shortly after recovering from COVID-19 revealed that his cancer had spread and that Andy’s health was declining rapidly.
The family’s cancer battle began in 2011, when Jack was diagnosed with cancerous glioma at the age of five. Hoffmans was initially told that most of Jack’s tumor could not be removed with a golf ball, but after extensive research, Andy found a Boston doctor who was able to extract more than 90% of the tumor.
Before Jack’s surgery, Andy reached out to Nebraska in hopes that Jack could meet his favorite player, and he ran Rex Burkhead. Andy did not expect to hear back, but Burkhead, now with the New England Patriots, was fortunately obliged to meet them for lunch. He took them on a tour of Memorial Stadium in Lincoln and called them the Friday before Jack’s surgery to offer support.
When the Huskers followed in Ohio State over the weekend, Burkhead decided to try to fire some of his teammates by naming the boy he had just met.
“Hey, Jack didn’t want to give up,” he told them, “so why do we have to do this?”
Burkhead took Nebraska to a victory and won the round. He developed a friendship with the Hoffman family, and a year and a half later, Nebraska’s coaching staff came up with the idea of placing Jack in the April 2013 spring game.
The nervous boy with the wobbly helmet ran in front of 60,000 fans for a 69-meter touch while Andy cheered him from the sidelines. No one knew that the moment would catch fire, that the YouTube video of the run would generate nearly 9 million views, and that Jack would win an ESPY award and visit President Barack Obama.
Andy Hoffman seized the opportunity to bring Team Jack into the spotlight. He really wanted a cure for pediatric brain cancer so other parents would not have to go through what he and Bri did. He wanted to tell their story. One of his New Year’s resolutions in 2020 was to finally write a book; he toiled at night while his family slept and slept on the manuscript midsummer.
A few weeks later, he was attacked during a Sunday run, which led to the trip to the hospital and the discovery of the white mass in his brain.
But he always tried to stay optimistic. He signed copies of his book ‘Yards After Contact’ throughout the fall and winter. He wanted it to be a top seller.
At the end of an interview with ESPN late last year while in the Mayo Clinic, Hoffman was asked if he had anything to add. When his son was ill, he was able to examine doctors and raise money for cancer research. He was able to comfort his son and his young daughters.
He paused for a moment, unsure of a future over which he had no control.
“It’s going to sound a little silly,” he said as he began to cry, “but I love my wife and children more than anything in the world.”