As crowds gathered at Hyatt Field for the 2015 football season, it did not matter the number of Billie fans that were present, there was on voice that could be heard over all the rest and a simple phrase that would be heard no matter where the Billies played.
“Hit Somebody!”
The phrase was from Season Nichols, the mother of #78 Ben Nichols, and even though it may have been directed at her son, it was meant for the whole team.
My first experience with Ben began in Little League Baseball a few years earlier.
He played on the same team as my son and I remember a kid that just did not seem to stop talking.
Ben and my son would play against each other in PeWee Football, and taking to one of his coaches during that time period he recall Ben being put at center in practice and that it would take forever to get the play going because you never knew when it would come, one hand on the football, raising his other hand and saying “Sir, Excuse me sir, I have a question.”
That was just Ben being Ben. He was inquisitive, even at a young age.
I’m not sure I ever heard Ben even call me by my name, he always addressed me as sir, just like he did everyone.
Ben and my son played football together as Junior Billies and as Senior Billies with both graduating in 2016 with the 2015 season being their last.
Ben faced adversity with an issue with a concussion, but was still able to join the UAM Weevils, despite knowing he may never get to play in a live game, but was able to participate in scrimmages and practice.
As far as I remember, Ben may have been one of the few, if not the only Billie players to go to college to play football from that 2015 team.
Concussion protocols would cut Ben’s college career short, but he would soon enter another fight, a battle with cancer.
Ben’s battle with cancer was also during a difficult time with Covid ramping up and with his immune system weakened by treatments, more precautions had to be implemented but still Ben never quit fighting, nor did he lose his spirit.
In 2021, my son, Zach Young, had finished college and interviewed for a job at Hamburg, getting the 7th grade Science job as well as an assistant position for the junior high football program and assistant for senior high soccer.
I had run into Ben’s grandmother and was telling her about Zach getting the job and at that time from what I remember, it looked as if Ben had won his battle with cancer or at least everything seemed to be heading in the right direction.
Always wanting to know updates on what his former teammates and friends were doing, Mrs. Nichols gave me Ben’s phone number and suggested that Ben would love to know one of his teammates had got a job coaching, so I gave Zach the number and we took a picture of him with his Hamburg Lions shirt, eating a Monticello Billie cupcake and sent it to Ben, because we knew he would get a kick out of it.
Needless to say the next time I saw and got to talk to Ben he said he had got the text but “Just did not know about seeing a Billie teammate in purple, but hey at least it isn’t orange.”
We laughed because even after four plus years, orange was still the hated color.
I would talk to Ben off and on when I’d see him at the gym and we would talk.
Ben had got a graduate assistant position with UAM in the sports media office and I was looking forward to having someone I had known for a long time to cover UAM Athletics, but soon after Ben’s cancer would return and a new fight would commence.
I did not know this at the time, but earlier this year I had heard that the outlook was looking favorable, but yet I knew Ben would not quit. It was not in him to do so.
I never said anything to him, his mom, or his dad that I had heard this, but I, like many others, was praying for a successful outcome.
The last time I saw and talked to Ben was at All-Time Fitness in Stealth Nutrition and the first thing he did, as he always did because that was how he was, always wanting to know about his friends, was to ask how Zach’s season was going.
This was around the first part of February and I told him that Zach was going to be a dad.
Ben’s eyes lit up and he was happy about the news, and one of the last things he told me was, “I can’t wait to have a class reunion to see what everyone has done.”
Ben meant that, but unfortunately he will never see that reunion.
On Sunday, May 7, a gathering to celebrate the life of Benjamin Allan Nichols was held at Pauline Baptist Church.
Ben had passed away on Tuesday, May 2, after a long battle with cancer at the age of 25.
Ben lived his life always putting others first and helping everyone that needed help in any way he could and it was evident of the life’s he touched just by the people that were at the service. There were not many empty spaces throughout the gym as the speakers talked of his faith and of his character.
There were stories and messages, and a very touching slideshow with his sister Becca singing the songs on the slide show.
In Ben’s life as it was spoken about throughout the service, he always gave 110 percent in everything he did.
It did not matter what it was, athletics, friends, family, or just life.
Ben’s attitude and graciousness touched everyone he came into contact with and left a lasting impression that no one could ever forget, and everyone who crossed Ben’s path was better for it.
Ben demonstrated throughout his short life what it really means to “Be a Billie” to not only succeed on the playing field but also in academics and in life.
To treat everyone as equals and fairly.
That is what you look for in a champion and that is what Ben Nichols was and despite having a short tenure in Weevil Green, Ben Nichols was Billie Blue through and through, and he will definitely be missed by all.
One final thought, one thing that he would do most of the time he ran into was he would alway have some corny “Dad” joke that he would tell you for no other reason than to make you either laugh or just shake your head as you walked away. So in honor of his memory here is one he would have loved.
After a high school football game, the coach looked down and noticed a cell phone lying in the grass. Reaching down to pick it up the coach says to the ref ‘Hey, I think this is yours.’
“What makes you think its mine,” said the ref.
“Easy,” says the coach. “It says you have 10 missed calls.”
You can rest easy now, my friend and until we meet again it will not be the same.
