Cancer survivor Brock Iverson of Cary-Grove enjoying baseball, life

The mom-proud button that Lynne Iverson sported on her jacket Saturday on the Cary-Grove baseball team’s senior day shows her son, Brock, during happier times.

A giant, foam, yellow cheesehead hat resting on the head of Brock, who was about 3 years old at the time, is barely larger than his smile, which any cheesehead could appreciate.

He got his football fandom from his dad, Bart, who succumbed to Stage 4 colon cancer in February 2011, about three weeks shy of Brock’s fourth birthday. Bart Iverson, a Harvard High School graduate, Gulf War veteran and cheesehead-hat-huge Green Bay Packers fan, was only 42.

“When Bart died,” Lynne said, “Brock wore Packers stuff every day. That’s all he wore – Packers clothes, Packers clothes.”

Four years later, in 2015, life delivered another linebacker-crunching blow to Lynne. Brock, who was then in second grade at Briargate Elementary School in Cary, was diagnosed with T-cell acute lymphoblastic leukemia (T-ALL).

“It was kind of shock when he got sick,” Lynne said. “It was like, ‘Come on! We already did this!’ ”

“I just remember one day I woke up with dots on my stomach,” Brock said.

A doctor’s visit revealed the T-ALL and led to regular visits for Lynne and Brock to Ann & Robert H. Lurie Children’s Hospital in Chicago. More than three years of chemotherapy followed for Brock, who when diagnosed thought he might die, like his dad did. That thought waned quickly, however, as soon afterward Brock thought only positive thoughts and being done with treatment for his cancer.

By the end of 39 months of chemo, Brock was a new kid, growing taller and stronger with each passing day – and sporting curly hair, which the blond still has today.

“It was straight before [the chemotherapy],” Brock said Saturday in his C-G white baseball uniform with navy pinstripes.

Chemo may have taken Brock’s hair, and T-ALL may have weakened his body, but neither ever stole his spirit and fun-loving personality.

“He’s a goof. I love him,” said Luca Vivaldelli, Iverson’s high school baseball teammate and one of 13 seniors honored Saturday before the Trojans beat Niles North 9-1. “He’s my best friend, I’d say. He’s so funny. I love being around him.”

Who doesn’t enjoy being in the presence of Iverson, who’s more than just a cancer survivor and who, by the way, happens to be one of the Trojans’ best players?

“He’s one of our big personalities in the dugout,” C-G coach Kyle Williams said of his 6-foot-2, 185-pound, healthy-and-strong, hard-hitting first baseman. “He’s hilarious.”

“I am,” Iverson said with his cheesehead-hat-big smile when told of his coach’s ‘biggest personalities’ comment. “I just try to have as much fun as I can on the baseball field, keep it loose and have fun with my friends.”

To be clear, the son of Harvard High grad Bart Iverson is not committed to Harvard University. During Saturday’s game, every time Brock stepped to the plate, his cheering teammates would yell from the dugout, “Harvard commit!” or “He’s going to Harvard!”

“Is he going to Harvard?” a curious and impressed Niles North mom asked.

Nope, Iverson does not have Ivy League aspirations.

“I told that to coach Williams as a joke,” Iverson said. “I’m still undecided. I was like, ‘Just put Harvard out there. Let’s see if it actually works.’ ”

Chalk it up to the goofy side of Iverson, as Vilvaldelli might say. Iverson, who turned 18 on March 21, is eyeing Western Illinois or McHenry County College and wants to be a firefighter someday.

“I just want to help people,” he said. “I can’t sit at a desk too long. I don’t have that good of an attention span.”

That’s Brock Iverson, always being positive, always putting a smile on others’ faces.

When Iverson was diagnosed with T-ALL, Vivaldelli remembers he and his friends celebrated Brock by shaving their heads during a St. Baldrick’s fundraiser. The Cary community rallied like no sports team ever has, creating a “Brock Strong” campaign that raised more than $20,000, Lynne said, and helped provide financial comfort to the Iverson family.

According to a 2015 Northwest Herald story, the Cary Junior Trojans, who had Iverson in their football program for one year before his diagnosis, helped sell about 400 T-shirts that read “BROCK STRONG” on the front and had Brock’s jersey No. 28 on the back.

Iverson’s baseball jersey number this year? Twenty-eight.

And there he stood Saturday, never standing taller, never more in the moment, never more grateful.

“It means that everything is coming to an end,” Iverson said of senior day. “I just want to have as much fun today as possible with my friends.”

That’s Brock Iverson.

“He has such a good spirit about him,” Lynne said. “My husband was also really fun. We were both kind of crazy (laughing).”

Iverson’s production on the baseball field this season is no laughing matter. He’s batting .371, with his 23 hits including five doubles and a homer. He starts regularly at first base and has played right field, as well. On Saturday, he got hit by pitches his first two times up, which didn’t faze him, considering he had about 15 chemo spinal taps while battling T-ALL.

Oh, and he sports a 7 handicap in golf. Hitters are hitters, no matter what they’re swinging.

“He hits everything hard,” Williams said. “Even if he makes an out, it’s a productive out. He’s our best guy at getting barrels on the ball. He’s tall, he’s an excellent first baseman, he’s fast, and he has great baseball instincts.”

Iverson remembers taking an Amtrak train to Montana with his dad. He cherishes that memory and always seeks to create new ones with his family (he has a sister, Brooke, who’s 21) and friends. Iverson drives a Kia sports car and enjoys that, too.

Sometimes hitters hit the gas pedal too hard.

“He’s an 18-year-old kid,” Vivaldelli said with a smile and a shrug. “He likes to go fast.”

Every year, around Christmastime, Iverson gets his blood tested to make sure his cancer hasn’t returned. He and his mom laugh about how doctors told them that a potential side effect of chemo is that it can stunt one’s growth.

Bart Iverson, mind you, stood about 5-6 (8 inches shorter than Brock), and Lynne is no giant, either.

Their son’s positive disposition allows him to keep growing as a person.

“It’s like, because he had to get through that [cancer], I think it made him resilient,” Lynne said.

It’s made him Brock strong.