To the members of the Marist Cross Country and Track Family:
The loss of our dear friend and teammate Eric Bergmann (proud
Class of 1997) has been very difficult for us all to process. For those of you
who were his former teammates, the thought of facing your mortality just as you
are growing accustomed to the vulnerability of middle age (your 40s), is
troubling and haunting. You know its more difficult to do what you used to do,
but you assume you’ve got time to sort it all out. Time. Yeah. That. We’re
guaranteed nothing. We are all day to day, my friends.
Life’s not fair! Eric is a guy who by all accounts took care
of himself. He never stopped running and he added triathlon to his regimen in
adulthood. He reveled in the fact that his oldest son, Ethan, took to the sport
as he did. There is a special joy in seeing your own child garner some of the
satisfaction we had as beginners all those years ago. Even after melanoma took
hold, when Eric’s body allowed, he repurposed himself, had a comeback tri race last
spring with the very appropriate F*ck Cancer racing shirt. But as too often
happens, cancer comes roaring back and wins.
But you know what? F*ck THAT! Cancer doesn’t win. We win. In
this time of great sadness, we win because of the enduring kinship and love we
feel for each other in the Marist Cross Country and Track Family. Months and
sometimes years go by between times that we communicate. Maybe a PM on Facebook
to wish someone happy birthday. A random text. A visit to campus or elsewhere.
A chance meeting in the city. Some remain connected to the sport as coaches,
parents of runners (like Eric), maybe even an occasional race for ourselves
here and there. But always, in the back of our minds and in the front of our
hearts, we are all Forever Foxes. We all share the bond, the camaraderie, the
kinship, the family vibe that was forged years ago. By me, by Phil, by Chuck, by
Terry, on van rides, bus rides, in the parks and tracks and trails of the
mid-Hudson Valley that we have to call home because Marist doesn’t give us one
-- peeing behind a tree, high-fiving some old guy on the rail trail, thanking
the grounds guy at Vassar for unlocking the gate to the track for us, getting
yelled at by the National Park Service for running shirtless or parking
illegally, being hounded by some deranged lunatic on the Farm Lane trail on an
otherwise beautiful fall day, getting our marking cones stolen by some losers
on the trail, remembering to bring bridge toll money for the vans, hills and more
hills at Bowdoin Park, intervals on that piece of crap track in McCann that we
sorely miss now, lifting weights in an old racquetball court or now in a party
tent, the Red Baron, grocery store stops on the way to meets, K&D Deli box
lunches … I could go on and on with this run-on sentence. You men and women,
you get it. You loved it. You love Eric. You love each other. And we love you
right back. I haven’t gotten wealthy in my 28 years as coach at Marist, far
from it! But I’ve been blessed the riches of your love and friendship, from
Eric as much as any of the hundreds of athletes who have come through our team,
our program, our family, during that time. We will mourn him, we will miss him,
we will remember him.
These are my words. They are all I’ve got, inadequate as
they may be. Here, then, I share with you some powerful song lyrics – a
beautiful poem, really -- from my favorite musician, Warren Haynes. After proud
and loyal alum Ned Kenyon – the glue that holds us all together in this --
called me early on a Saturday morning a few weeks ago, with the news of the
cancer ferociously overtaking Eric, this was the first song that popped up on
the iPod mix in my car. Spots of Time. When I hear the song and read the
lyrics, I think of him, I think of all of you. I never stop thinking about all
of you.
With love,
Coach Pete Colaizzo
Spots of Time, by
Warren Haynes
Spots of time flash before my eyes
Like ribbons of light
Helplessly I try to touch them
Before they disappear into the night
Running fearlessly as in a dream
Headlong into the wind
Cool night air, blowing through our hair
Moonlight dancing on your skin
Do you remember
How young we were or is it just me
Imagining like I always do
When we were once wild and free
Young man yearning for days gone by
Innocence once removed
Familiar feeling of a front porch swing
And a song, always soothes
Spots of time like windows appear
You can look out or in
But you can't get to the future I regret
By going through the past, my friend
Do you remember
How young we were or is it just me
Imagining like I always do
That we were once wild and free
A mother's tears, a sparrow's wing
A lover's eyes softly glistening
Memories that to me are everything
But to others maybe only ashes and dust
Do you remember
How young we were or is it just me
Imagining like I always do
When we were once wild and free
Like ribbons of light
Helplessly I try to touch them
Before they disappear into the night
Running fearlessly as in a dream
Headlong into the wind
Cool night air, blowing through our hair
Moonlight dancing on your skin
Do you remember
How young we were or is it just me
Imagining like I always do
When we were once wild and free
Young man yearning for days gone by
Innocence once removed
Familiar feeling of a front porch swing
And a song, always soothes
Spots of time like windows appear
You can look out or in
But you can't get to the future I regret
By going through the past, my friend
Do you remember
How young we were or is it just me
Imagining like I always do
That we were once wild and free
A mother's tears, a sparrow's wing
A lover's eyes softly glistening
Memories that to me are everything
But to others maybe only ashes and dust
Do you remember
How young we were or is it just me
Imagining like I always do
When we were once wild and free
