Sowards Shoots Straight From The Heart -- Heart Condition Proves Only A Minor Annoyance For High-Scoring Cougar

Maybe because he has dealt with the heart condition for the last five years, maybe because he is a teenager, Ryan Sowards doesn't give it a second thought.

Maybe because there hasn't been an episode in the last seven games, Bothell basketball Coach Bob Morris has dealt with it more easily. But Morris is no teenager - he has been coaching longer than Sowards has been alive - and it's harder for him to be comfortable about Sowards' disorder.

``I sure think about it,'' Morris said. ``At Davis (of Yakima) one game we had a heck of a time getting him out. He was going like this (waving his arms). He's supposed to go like this (tap his chest).''

Sowards, the KingCo Conference's leading scorer at 26.1 points per game, has a form of arrhythmia that, when triggered, causes his heart to accelerate to as much as 240 beats per minute - about 60 higher than an athlete's typical peak. Doctors have told Sowards it's not life-threatening - it's even fairly common. But when an episode begins, Sowards is supposed to signal Morris immediately to take him out of the game. The system calls for him to look toward the bench and motion to his chest.

Against Davis, ``I didn't know what he wanted. I thought he wanted to change the defense or change the offense,'' Morris said. ``Then he got the ball, but he took a shot - and it went in. When he turned around he was doing like this (tapping his chest) finally, but then I couldn't do anything.''

Davis came down and scored before Bothell could call time out.

``I said, `Ryan, geez, when we have the ball, you've got to call timeout,' '' Morris said. ``He forgot he could call timeout.''

Sowards didn't forget anything.

``I didn't really want to call time out for it,'' Sowards said. ``If we could get it out of bounds or something, or get a foul. . .I don't like calling timeouts for something like that - in case we really need it.''

That's how routine the condition has become to Sowards.

``I've kind of grown up with it,'' the junior said. ``It doesn't scare me at all anymore. Not a bit.''

Not since the first day he had an episode, during a Little League all-star baseball game when he was 12.

``I just threw a pitch, and all of a sudden I could feel something different in my heart,'' he said. ``My heart was going real fast.''

A doctor in the stands took Sowards' vital signs and watched over him until his heart rate returned to normal in about 20 minutes.

``I really didn't know what to think,'' said Ryan's father, Phil Sowards. ``It scared me quite a bit.''

He wasn't the only one.

``The first day it was real scary,'' Ryan said. ``I was a little kid not knowing what was going on. Until we figured out it wasn't anything real serious. Now it's just kind of a nuisance.''

After batteries of tests from different doctors, the condition was diagnosed as supraventricular tachycardia. About a month ago, doctors even pinpointed the source of the ``short-circuit'' that speeds the heart by feeding it extra impulses, but they couldn't reach it safely to surgically repair it. So Sowards began daily medication that so far have been just as effective in preventing the episodes - and the disorder remains a mere nuisance.

Before that, part of the nuisance was the remedy Sowards used to stop an episode - ice water and a handstand.

He discovered the cure by accident during a Little League game when he came out after an episode, took a gulp of cold water and lay down alongside the field. He happened to lie on a downward slope, and his heart calmed almost immediately.

What has helped calm Morris is assurances that the condition in no way relates to the heart muscle abnormality that killed Loyola Marymount basketball star Hank Gathers last year.

What has had perhaps an even greater calming effect on Morris is the constant presence of his volunteer assistant coach, Phil Sowards.

``I'm not sure what I would have done if it was another player or if his dad wasn't there,'' Morris said. ``I think I would have wanted all kinds of medical releases and stuff.''

Phil Sowards, a middle-school teacher in Edmonds, has coached in Bothell's summer program since Ryan was a sixth-grader.

One thing Ryan made clear: ``I just don't want the colleges to get the wrong impression. I don't want them to think this is another Hank Gathers. It's not even close.''

Sowards' 3.5 grade-point average is as strong as his scoring average. And almost as strong as his college aspirations.

At 6-foot-1, he might not look awe-inspiring at first. But blink, and you won't get a second look.

``He's so quick,'' said Sammamish guard Shawn Englund, assigned to guard Sowards in a game last night.

``You kind of have a certain idea of what the ideal player would be like,'' Morris said, ``and he comes fairly close to it. He can take it to the hole going left or right. He can shoot it, and he sees the floor real well.''

Almost always shooting from beyond 17 feet, Sowards has made 51.9 of his field-goal attempts this season.

``We hadn't seen a scorer like that in a package like that,'' said Hazen Coach John Ruby, whose team fell victim to one of Sowards' three 30-plus point performances this season as Bothell beat the Highlanders in its opener.

``It seemed like every time they scored it was him,'' Ruby said.

In the game against Davis Dec. 29, when Morris had so much trouble getting Sowards out of the game to stop an episode, Sowards scored 35 points and led the Cougars to a 75-57 victory.

``It's not too big a deal,'' Sowards said.

And you believe him.