`Miracle' Team Going For Nationals
It was late and the inky Eastern Washington skies were as dark as sorrow. The van driven by Northwest College basketball Coach Doug Filan was in the homestretch of the long, icy drive from Spokane to Walla Walla.
Filan's nephew and leading scorer, Jason Filan, was in the seat next to him. The rest of the starters and his sixth man were in the back.
This was to be a homecoming for Filan, who was raised in Walla Walla. It was last Nov. 19. In two nights his team would play Whitman College. In the meantime, he would visit with his family and friends.
But here, in the homestretch, near his hometown, Filan's body, his future, his players, were thrown head over heels, like clothes in a dryer.
As the van crossed a bridge, it hit a patch of black ice. It skidded for 100 feet, but Filan thought he had regained control. Then, a tire blew, and the van flipped. It spun around four times on its side, like a top, and skidded through a field for 900 feet.
In the crazy physics of such an accident, the players were flung out of the van, several still strapped into their seats. Filan was shot out the back door. The van was crushed.
An eerie silence fell over the field. Dirt and smoke were swirling in the icy air. Filan was calling his players' names. Nobody was responding. He thought he was the only one who had survived.
This is the story of human triumph. Doug Filan's victory over death. His team's victory against incredible odds. A story of the resilience of the human spirit.
In the slow accounting after the accident, it was Filan, 37, who wasn't expected to live.
Gradually his players regained consciousness. Jason Filan, who was averaging 34 points per game, broke a collarbone and 12th vertebra. Guard Brock Baker suffered a concussion. Forward Erik Konsmo had rib and shoulder injuries and a deep cut on his head. Other players suffered facial lacerations.
Two truck drivers, encountering the accident scene, provided blankets and advice and called aid vehicles. The players gathered together and sang hymns.
Filan? The list of injuries would take up several chapters of ``Gray's Anatomy.'' Broken right tibia and fibula. A severed nerve in his foot. Five ribs, mangled like meal, one rib scratching his heart. A broken scapula and collarbone.
He should be dead today. Instead, he is one victory away from a national tournament. If Northwest, a school of 700 students in Kirkland, beats Pacific Christian in Fullerton, Calif., this weekend, it will go to Chicago for the National Christian College Athletic Association tournament.
Northwest's season should have ended that chilly night near Walla Walla. Instead, the Eagles are 13-12 and champions of the Northwest Christian College Athletic Association.
``It's a miracle,'' Filan said. ``A miracle.''
The coach didn't take a breath on his own for almost two weeks after the accident. The pain he felt was so bad he was given morphine injections every three hours.
``I would be in bed and I could hear the doctors talking about me and they were wondering if I would make it through the night,'' Filan said. ``Several times I heard them say I might not make it. There were tubes all over the place. I was breathing through a machine.
``I asked my brother if I was going to live. He told me I was going to have to breathe by myself before I was out of the woods.''
Several players visited him at the hospital in Walla Walla. Filan told them he would see them again, on the practice floor, Jan. 3.
``I could tell by the looks on the faces as they left the room, they didn't think I was going to make it,'' Filan said. ``That was a weird feeling.''
There was concern he would lose his right leg. An operation was needed immediately, but heart specialists were unsure he would survive such an operation.
Filan's wife, Darla, agreed to the operation. Filan survived. It took five hours and five blood transfusions, but he survived.
His legs looked like a construction project. Screws, rods, nails were inserted.
``I looked at the X-rays and I asked the doctor, `This is my leg?' '' Filan said.
The nerve damage was so severe, doctors didn't expect him to regain use of his right foot. Filan, the former offensive coordinator of UNLV's football team, had other ideas. Now that he had survived the surgery, he wanted to prove to the doctors that he could walk.
We will fast-forward this story, just as Filan fast-forwarded his recovery. He was supposed to be in intensive care until the end of January. He was out well before Christmas. He was supposed to be in a walker thorugh February. He was coaching, using crutches, when the team returned to practice Jan. 3.
``When I got the tubes out of my throat, and I could talk again, I called our captain, Wes Davis,'' Filan said. ``He told me he got goose bumps. He started crying. He couldn't believe it.''
Five games were canceled. Most of the players didn't touch a ball from that fateful night until the first January practice.
``It was like starting over,'' Filan said.
Jason Filan was out for the season. The coach moved his post man, Davis, to point guard. He slowed his run-and-gun offense and he won.
The Eagles played five days later and lost to Dordt College of Iowa. They lost their first three games, then caught fire. Northwest College, the bionic basketball team, is 11-5 since the accident and champions of the Northwest Christian College Athletic Association.
``We were fortunate that all of our games in January were at home,'' Filan said. ``I found out this month that the road trips are really hard on me. I think if we had had any road games in January I would have found out I was in way over my head.''
Filan still can't raise his right arm above his shoulder. He occasionally uses one crutch to help him walk. Doctors say it will take more than a year for the ribs to heal and 10 more months to heal his scapula.
At home games, Filan coaches in his soft, reclining office chair. On the road he uses pillows for his back and backside. The pain still is palpable. But winning helps.
``This team's really remarkable. But they all have the same thing in common,'' Filan said. ``They all look to the Lord for their strength. Let's just say, this team believes it works.
``We can't really jump. We're not really quick or fast. But we have a couple of good shooters and we just play. It just a really close team.''
A close team that survived a close call, with a coach who refused to die. A team in the homestretch of its miracle season.
Steve Kelley's column usually is published Sunday, Monday, Wednesday and Friday in the Sports section of The Times.