Wellsie was everything you want, and desire, to be. I know, that sounds cliche but it is true; ask anyone who knew or met him. He was that once-in-a-lifetime soul that lived life to its absolutely fullest and inspired those around him to do
the same. It was not unusual for me to get a call from Wellsie at midnight just to say hello. On asking him where he was, he would say,
"I am on way down to Bethpage to play the Black course."
"But Wellsie, it's midnight on a weekeday," I would reply, knowing that this meant nothing to him.
"I know, but I want to play it, so why not do it now?"
I couldn't fault him, he lived as many of us always have wanted - to the fullest. He would jump in the car on the fly if you needed him, he was quick with a joke when you were down, and did everything, I mean EVERYTHING, at 100%. Proof of this could be found in his support for the 'Cuse, his beloved Orange. You think you are a big fan? Please...
"Wellsie, what are you listening to?"
"Ah, just a CD 'Melo made for me."
"Riiiight...of course"
or
"Wellsie, is that a 'Cuse championship ring?"
"Yeah, got it from Boeheim."
That's how my boy Ryan Wells rolled.
All of this is well and good, but Ryan's true character shone through during his battle with cancer. I didn't use the word fight, because it didn't sound strong enough. You see, Ryan went to war with his disease, battled it at every turn, and never EVER gave up.
"I'm going to treat it like the flu, Boo, that's all it is."
And that is just what he did. It didn't trump him when he didn't have enough energy to even open his eyelids, when his hair fell out, when he spent week after week away from home tucked away in some sterile room in Sloan Kettering, or when the disease came back for a second and third time. He needed surgery to stop the spread of the disease?
"Let's do it."
It didn't matter to him, he was going to come out on top. The disease never defined him, but his battle persona did. I know Lance Armstrong is revered for his strength, but I'm sorry. Lance, you don't have @#$% on Wellsie, not an iota. Whether the fir
st, second or third time he fought it, Wellsie came out guns blazing. And it was a sight to behold.
I am not doing this special guy justice...just know that he was incredible, a one-of-a-kind. I miss my boy, I wish I could hit a 'Cuse football game with him, like I promised I would, I wish I could crush some of his mom's homemade meatballs in Canastota and toss the the football around afterwards. Most of all, I just wish the world could have
had him for just a little longer; it would be a much better place for it.
I miss you, bud - Make it clap ;)
For those of you that knew Ry and read this blog - please feel free to post stories of him, funny things you remember, etc. I would love to hear and share them with the rest of the folks that wander on through.
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