‘It’s kind of crazy, but I’m still here’: Five years after amputation, EWU’s Brandon Thomas endures pain of playing on prosthetic leg

After more than two hours of football practice in searing, mid-90s heat, exhausted players now struggle through gassers.

These sprints, back and forth across the practice field, are the little slices of sadism that traditionally end football practices at most colleges.

The conditioning drill is designed to take players, already at the limits of fatigue, and push them further, beyond exhaustion, to get them comfortable out there.

It is much more challenging, surely, for the lone player on the field gutting out the last few sprints with a prosthetic apparatus strapped to the tender stump of a right leg that was amputated below the knee – like a massive surgical shark bite.

But when Eastern Washington defensive end Brandon Thomas comes off the field at the end of these drills, the smile shining through his face mask can be detected from 30 yards away.

It turns out that Thomas is quite familiar with probing those places where others normally can’t go. Out past where pain and fatigue plumb inner resources, into that range of human improbability.

He’s been pioneering that territory for five years.

• • •

Thomas is starting his third season as a walk-on with the Eagles. Walk-ons receive no scholarship money, so, in essence, he’s donating his time and sweat, running these gassers for free. It’s further example that this was never about anything for Thomas except getting here. Being here. Belonging here.

His story has been told often and well, so rare and inspiring that it’s been given space and time in national publications and broadcasts. But along with some retelling, updates are worth examining, with new challenges actually getting nearer than expected.

But back to his sophomore season at Central Valley High: Thomas had already made first-team all-Greater Spokane League as a linebacker. The honor projected a limitless future. But leg injuries soon led to the discovery of osteosarcoma, a malignant bone cancer capable of lethally metastasizing.

Amputation and lengthy chemotherapy was considered the best option to prevent the cancer’s spreading. Three days before his 16th birthday, his lower right leg was amputated.

He spent 140 days in the hospital over the next 14 months, dealing with surgical healing and chemotherapy side-effects, which included frightening seizures.

And, also, deep self-doubts.

“Darkest part? Easily, after the amputation,” he said following a recent practice. “It changes who you are, who you have to be. It made life harder, showering, walking; I had to learn how to do things differently. Never mind the self-esteem part of it. Am I going to have friends? Can I play football again? I was very depressed.”

As he recounted the unremitting support of his parents and brother (Joshua, former EWU basketball player), and for the past year, his wife, McKenna, Thomas welled up, tears mixing with the sweat on his face.

“I get emotional,” he said. “It’s still raw. It’s still emotional. It only happened four or five years ago. It’s kind of crazy, but I’m still here.”

He calls himself blessed. “Not many people have done what I’m doing,” he said, not aware of any other leg amputee currently playing Division I (FBS or FCS) football. “When I first got into the game (Idaho State, last season), it was such a surreal moment.”

Thomas’ parents, Devon and Melanie, both worked at EWU, so Eagle coach Aaron Best had followed Brandon’s story for years.

Aboard his prosthetic leg, Brandon returned to play at CV and graduated with academic honors. Best began evaluating Brandon as a prospective Eagle, and suspected he’d share the qualities of his parents, whom Best called “phenomenal people, phenomenal humans.”

Best stressed that inviting Brandon as a walk-on was not a favor for friends, nor to be part of a “feel-good” story. “We were doing it for the reasons best for us as a program,” Best said. “Does he make us better? The unequivocal answer is ‘yes’. He’s the consummate teammate.”

Best and the staff make cut-ups of daily practice videos and show them to the team at evening meetings, re-enforcing the “teachable moments” from practices.

“(Brandon) has found himself six or eight times, through the course of camp, used as good examples,” Best said. “He’s never wavered; he’s brought the same mental makeup from the day he got on campus … and he’s going to find himself on the field this fall.”

The positive attitude, Thomas said, is simply doing what it takes. “It’s mentally pushing through the pain, and knowing I can do it.”

How best to judge the kind of character a person has than by the affections of those who had seen how much he had gone through, and the grace with which he’d conducted himself?

An example: After Brandon had built himself back up to get on the high-school football field, at least eight of his former pediatric oncology nurses showed up on the sidelines to cheer him on.

Through the years, he has been unwavering in that determination. But, at this point, he now introduces more than a hint of finality.

• • •

Maybe it’s because he’s been through so much at a young age, but the 21-year-old Thomas is uncommonly mature. A dreamer, no question, yet rational. Open and honest.

Asked about the physical toll of training camp: “I’d say this year has been the worst, honestly, to the point I don’t know if I could play another year.”

The artificial leg wears a sock and a cleated football shoe, and is surely the result of advanced technologies, but it still resembles a twisted piece of car wreckage.

Is there friction? Is it abrasive? Is that painful?

Thomas nods his head to every question.

“Yes, yes, yes, very much,” he said. “It’s hard, it’s blistering, it has cuts on the bottom, it bruises up. It’s not meant to handle the stress of Division I football.”

To suit the parameters of his defensive end position, Thomas has muscled up to 260 pounds. The extra weight puts more pressure on the point of contact between the artificial apparatus and the flesh of the remaining leg, site of a significant wound.

He explains the added preparation for practice, having a “second skin” gel applied, along with antibiotic ointment, with gauze and padding.

“Absolutely, it takes more time, and more effort to show out, but it’s something I signed up for and something I will continue to do,” he said. “My prosthetist said it’s not ideal, but it’s my dream, and I’ve had this dream a long time, and I am not going to let anybody else tell me what I can or can’t do.”

Brandon’s father, Devon (now director of external operations for the Gonzaga athletic department), has worked in similar capacities at EWU and Idaho. He was a standout defensive end on a couple nationally ranked teams at Louisville around the turn of the 21st century.

For his son, he has co-opted a quote, often attributed to Nelson Mandela: “It’s only impossible until somebody does it.”

Brandon has taken that on as a guidepost.

But it’s all become more difficult. Brandon’s wife has elaborated to the Thomas’ the growing extent of Brandon’s challenges.

“She was over for dinner and shared with my wife and I that this year has been pretty bad,” Devon Thomas said. “He’s had to sit out a few things because his (leg) nerves are firing. It’s tough, with camp, because it’s every day, for long periods, and the heat.”

Devon outlined Brandon’s typical day during training camp: Up at 5 or 5:15, driving from home in Liberty Lake (40 minutes), in practice or meetings until 9 or 10 at night, with another 40-minute drive home.

“Right now, he comes home and it’s everything he can do to get it iced and get to bed quick because he’s up so early,” Devon said.

Best and Brandon recently have talked about the toll taken by three football seasons.

“His mindset is such that sometimes you have to try to slow him down. We told him, no one’s going to bat an eye if you call a personal timeout,” Best said. “You would never know by the way he carries himself if he’s having the best day of practice or the worst. We all experience bad days, but he masks them better than most.”

He masks the bad days? Probably with that dang smile, right?

“It’s real; it’s authentic,” Best said. “I mean, that … that’s who he is.”

Best emphasized that comment, which could have been better quoted: “That’s. Who. He. Is.”

Imagine a young person’s power of will being so pervasive that a coach defines his core identity by his ability to smile in the face of overwhelming adversity.

• • •

Remember the summary of medical procedures and lengthy therapies Thomas endured? During that process, he also was acing advanced classes and piling up college credits with Running Start classes.

So, although he has competitive eligibility remaining after this season, he can graduate in the spring, and recently passed his “endorsement” test, required for getting a teaching license.

“I want to be a teacher, a secondary health and PE teacher, hopefully with some weight training and coaching,” he said, having been influenced by the many teachers and coaches who were “so huge in my life.”

His grade-point average? “I think cumulative 3.95.” Apparently an “A-minus or B-plus in Nutrition” was his only minor blemish.

So, this could be his last season of football.

“It would take a lot for me to reconsider,” Thomas said. “I’m like 99% sure this will be it for me. I want to give it my all this season, and then go on and live life, have kids, enjoy time with my wife, and take the next step.”

So, where lies his greatest pride?

“I guess just being here, making plays, and honestly, not just doing it, but doing it at a pretty high clip, I’d say. I’ve gotten so much better than I was, and that just excites me for the rest of my life.

“I know, no matter what hits me, I’ve got it, I can do it – and I can do it well.”