Marietta senior baseball player Hunter Roe pitched on March 1 when the Indians traveled to play the Colbert Leopards. And while that might not seem like a big deal to anyone else, for Hunter, it was huge.
According to Hunter’s dad James, Hunter, like most other Love County kids, started his baseball career on the diamond with Lion’s Club t-ball and progressed through that system until he was old enough for school baseball, even playing in Ardmore’s Y-league along the way.
“He’s always loved playing baseball,” said James, “and couldn’t get enough of it. I guess that’s what made it so tough for us when we heard the doctors tell him he couldn’t play, because we knew how much he loved it and how badly he wanted to be able to play.”
In 2018, after a physical, the Roes were first told that doctors thought Hunter might have a heart murmur. Unfortunately, further testing diagnosed something more serious: hypertrophic cardiomyopathy, better known as HCM.
HCM is a disease that causes thickening of the heart muscle in various ways and places, but the end result is that HCM reduces or restricts blood flow, causing the heart to pump harder to overcome the narrowing or blockages. In America, HCM affects one in 500 people.
Although many people with HCM live normal lives, sometimes the condition causes dangerously fast heart rhythm, which can result in cardiac arrest. Because of this, the current guidelines recommend against competitive sports participation.
During his freshman year, on December 12, 2018, Hunter was given his diagnosis and told he couldn’t play baseball, a crushing setback for a kid who lived for the game, and the beginning of a long, dry spell for Hunter.
“My doctors didn’t want me to take any risks and they said I should just give it up,” said Hunter, “but I couldn’t. Instead, I used that as motivation to stay involved as much as I could, hoping that I could eventually come back. I never stopped believing that I would eventually be able to play.”
During baseball seasons in his freshman, sophomore, and junior years, Hunter did stay active with the team as its manager. He made practices and games, keeping score, and doing what he could to be an encouragement to the team.
For Hunter, those three years were a waiting game. He waited and worked on his grades, all As and Bs. He waited and was active in FFA. He waited and worked part-time at Homeland. He waited and learned a lesson in patience.
“He sat out for three years, just waiting for something to change,” said James, “and then not long ago, they did some more tests, and the last one showed some improvement, and no blockages, so they released him to play. He was so excited, and we were excited for him.”
So not just for Hunter, but for James and Hunter’s mom and step-dad, Tristan and Paul Roberts, Coach Ron Norman, and for all the friends and family members who waited patiently with Hunter, March 1 was a very special day. Hunter was beyond happy, and they were beyond happy with him.
“It felt amazing, being told I could play,” Hunter remarked. “For so long, I sat and watched. It was so hard to sit there, feeling like I could make an impact. And to finally be told I could play was an unbelievable feeling. I never stopped believing that I would play again, but I was getting really tired of waiting.”
On March 1, Hunter came in as a reliever in what would be a losing effort. Since then, he’s played in other games, even started on the mound against Wolfe City in the Madill Tournament, also a game the Indians lost. But for Hunter and his family, even those games when the Indians come up short are still wins.
Hunter remembers when he was in the eighth grade, playing baseball. Then, he assumed high school baseball would be a next step for him, as it had been thousands of players before.
“I thought I’d go into high school, probably spend a year or two sitting on the bench, learning, and then take a starting position,” he said, “but all that changed when I found out about my heart. During these three years when I wasn’t able to play, I’ve learned that that you have to make the most of the opportunities that you’re given because you never know when they’ll be gone.”
(Photograph by Charles Brown)