Moncur savors final year at Miami
Hurricane DE puts his past behind him
CORAL GABLES, Fla. – Moments after completing the final sprint of the Miami Hurricanes’ season-opening practice Saturday, Eric Moncur slowly removed his helmet.
He looked exhausted.
Still, it’s a safe bet that no Hurricane cherished being back on the field more than Moncur, whose time at Miami has been marred by heartbreak and disappointment – chapters that he’s determined to put behind him in 2009.
“I’ve been through some stuff,” Moncur said, softly. “Stuff that some people don’t go through in a lifetime.”
Indeed, it’s been one challenge after another for the 6-foot-2, 260-pound defensive end.
His college experience started a year behind schedule because of struggles with the SAT in 2003. His best friend Bryan Pata was shot and killed outside an apartment complex on Nov. 7, 2006, just a few hours after they walked off Miami’s practice field together. And Moncur’s mother Edwina, 42, died last year, not long after being diagnosed with rectal cancer.
“He lost his best friend,” said Benny Moncur, the player’s father. “And then he lost his other one.”
On Aug. 30, 2008, Edwina Moncur entered a hospice facility in South Florida. Eric Moncur kissed her atop the head and promised to take care of the family, no matter what.
The next morning, he awoke to a text message from his brother, saying she was gone.
“Until then, I kept thinking, ‘She’ll get through this, she’ll get through this,’ ” Moncur said. “I still can’t believe it. I went home the night before she died, me and my girl slept on the couch and I couldn’t do anything but cry. And when I got that text … I just kept saying, ‘Edwina Moncur, my mom, mom is dead, mom is dead, mom is dead.’ ”
Along with the emotional anguish, his physical pain was just starting.
Earlier that summer, Moncur had surgery to repair a sports hernia. He rehabbed vigorously, but pain in his midsection persisted, even though doctors insisted everything was fine. About a month after Edwina’s death, Moncur simply said he couldn’t play anymore.
Eventually, another doctor figured out why: He had a golf-ball-sized abdominal muscle tear, which had gone undetected. Still, Moncur missed the rest of the season, and Miami finished 7-6.
Another surgery took place. Within weeks, Moncur starting feeling like himself again.
To regain eligibility, Moncur needed to apply to the NCAA for an extra season, which was anything but a guarantee. Then the NCAA sent word in February that Moncur could have a sixth year.
“I knew football was important to him before, but he’s really taken it to a new level,” Benny Moncur said.
It all goes back to that last promise he made to his mother. Playing is his way to take care of his family.
Part of Edwina Moncur’s legacy is her voice. The woman was loud, especially when her son made a big play. Even in raucous stadiums, Eric Moncur swears he could always hear his mom.
Moncur came to Miami determined to win a championship, and hasn’t even celebrated a league title yet.
Now is his last chance.
“All this, it’s been the Lord’s way of humbling me,” Moncur said. “You think you’re the top dog, somebody’s going to put you in your place. Me and Bryan came here thinking it’d take us three years and we’d get right into the NFL. If it takes me six, then so be it. I’m here. I’m here for a reason.”