I could say a lot of things about Felicia but I'll narrow it down to just a few things, but there is so much I want to tell you all.

The first little story I'd like to tell you about Felicia happened about four weeks into her last hospital stay. She was receiving many cards and gifts in the mail and I would like to thank everybody that sent all the cards. She got over 700 cards and she loved every single one of them, and she looked at and read every single one of them. One gift she got was pretty popular. I believe it was from a local flower shop, and it had a balloon and a white bear attached to it and she got three of them. So I would often kid her, "what are you going to do with these three bears? Your room is going to be all full of stuff." And she'd always give me the attitude, you know, "don't worry about it". One day we were in her room there and just out of nowhere, she sat up and swung her legs out over the bed and started to get up. She about gave me a heart failure because she could hardly stand at that time so I had to quick rush over to make sure she didn't fall. She grabbed her IV poles and she started heading out the door. I said, "Felicia, calm down a minute here, let me get you a wheel chair and we'll go for a walk." She said, "No, I don't need a wheelchair", and she grabbed one of the white bears off the bed and out the door she went, banging her IV poles against the wall and against the door and we finally made it out. Once we got out there, I finally figured out what she was doing as she turned down the hall and down at the end of the hall in a chair was a father holding about a two-year-old boy who was screaming his head off. Felicia makes her way down struggling like crazy with her IV poles, but she was determined and she walked up to the little boy and she handed him the bear. And the little boy looked at it, and he looked back at Felicia, and he smiled. And just like that his crisis was over and he was happy and he handed the bear back to Felicia. Felicia shook her head and said, "No, he's your bear now." Felicia turned and struggled her way back to her room, got back into bed and in no time she was asleep because she had really worn herself out in her short trip, but she wanted to do it and she DID it. And later on, as I stood in the hall, I watched this little boy play with this bear and I realized just how proud I was to be this girl's father, and as I watched him play with the bear, it only struck me that I only wished that us grown-ups in the world would take care of each other the way the children take care of each other. Felicia had that gift and we can all learn from that gift.

[Kevin now begins unbuttoning his dress shirt to reveal his AKRON MUSTANGS uniform shirt] Now, for the next story here, I'm going to have to change personas a little bit, if you'll use your imagination a little. [Kevin finishes his "quick change" and adds his softball cap] OK, I want you to forget for a minute that I'm Felicia's Dad because right now I'm "Coach Kevin" and I'm Felicia's softball coach.
I've had the opportunity of coaching Felicia for three years on the AKRON MUSTANGS (and my Lady Mustangs are here tonight. I love every one of you guys...thank you for being here)! The first year I coached Felicia she couldn't play. She was too weak, she was too thin, she was too ill from her first bout with cancer, but she wanted to participate, so she became the batgirl and she worked hard at it and she did a great job. The second year she was better and she played catcher and the outfield, as she did her third year. Now I must say...Felicia by NO stretch of the imagination is what I would call an athlete. She did not have an athlete's body, chemotherapy had messed up her equilibrium, chemotherapy had messed up her balance, chemotherapy had made her feet numb so she had a real hard time running, but she WANTED to play, and play she did. Last year, the team made the playoffs, and when you make the playoffs, the rules change a little bit. During the regular season, every girl has to play and they have to play a certain amount of innings. Once you make the playoffs, that rule is not in effect. So, being a macho guy I was then, I went with my 10 best players, because I wanted to win. So this meant Felicia sat on the bench. The first game we lost and as I went home, I could tell Felicia was upset. She had a way of showing how she was upset--she'd stomp around the house and slam the doors a couple times until you finally had enough and you had to ask "Hey, what on earth is going on?" So finally she said, "I didn't like sitting on the bench. I was part of that team, why didn't I get to play?" I used a great coach's excuse and said, "Sometimes a coach has to do what a coach has to do!" She didn't buy it all that well but she got over it. So we went to the second game of the tournament, double elimination tournament. We weren't doing any better in this second game either, and it came down to the last inning, we have two outs in the bottom of the last inning, we're losing pretty bad. I look down the bench and there sits Felicia. Guilt or something happened, and I quickly called a time out, I pulled the girl who was batting out and I announced that Felicia Rupp was coming in as a pinch hitter. There's two outs, bottom of the last inning. Felicia quickly got her stuff on and hustled out there. I don't know what the count was on the pictch but the pitch came in and Felicia hit it! It was one of these little squiggly things and it went off to the left side. The pitcher couldn't get to it, the third baseman couldn't get to it, and by the time the shortstop got to it, Felicia was at first base--she had a hit! I was humbled. She taught me a very important lesson that no matter how small you may be, no matter how unskilled or unathletic you may be, or how handicapped you may be, there is always some way you can contribute...and contribute she did, because after that game I swore I'd never coach like that again and that the next year I would be a different coach. I would coach for ALL the girls, I would coach for fun and not for winning. Last season, we didn't have a winning season, we lost more than we won, but I had the most fun I've ever had coaching. The girls had a tremendous time, we had a lot of fun, and that's all thanks to Felicia. A lot of the girls came up to me after the season and said, "I had a great time, I can't wait until next year!" A lot of the parents came up to me and said, "You guys did a great job and our girls learned a lot more than just softball, they learned a lot of lessons about life and those lessons come from Felicia Rupp because she taught them to us. And if I could sum it all together of what exactly we learned from Felicia in softball--what I learned from Felicia--Felicia had this philosophy in life and she had this philosophy in sports, and that is--"It doesn't matter if you win or lose, what really matters is how you played the game" and yes my friends, Felicia Rupp was a player!

One more story. I want to tell you about the final words I heard Felicia say and the final thing I saw her do. As many of you may or may not know, the last three or four weeks of her hospital stay she was more or less in a coma-like state, so this happened about three or four weeks before she died. We were in her room and we were changing her and moving her around the bed and she was really aggitated at us and she wasn't happy about it. She kept trying to say something to us and we just couldn't quite understand what she was saying. We told her to calm down, and we told her to take her time and try really hard, and we all leaned in close and finally she said, "I'm sorry." And then, with the last little bit of strength she had, she reached her hand up and she touched the nurse on the cheek and she made a motion to come down and she gave the nurse a kiss. That was the last things I heard her say and the last things I saw her do. Now here's this child who had EVERY right to be angry, she had EVERY right to be bitter, she had EVERY right to be nasty, but instead she chose to be thankful for everybody that was there for her, and she chose to be remorseful. She was truly saddened by the pain she saw in our eyes. She was saddened and all she could say was "I'm sorry" because she didn't want it to be that way, and she felt our pain.

I say this not because I'm her proud father, I say this because it's true--Felicia Rupp is a hero--Felicia is my hero--and someday, when I grow up, I wanna be just like her!!