No matter what happened,
Mooney always enjoyed life

On the Sidelines
By Joe Mason

Most of the time, this is a great job.
I basically go out, watch sporting events and meet interesting kids and then write about them.
In many ways, it’s even the perfect job. But on the evening of July 6, this job was anything but perfect.
I’d just arrived home and decided to log on to the Internet to check my fantasy baseball scores. Then I figured I’d check my work e-mail to see if there was anything interesting.
One of my messages was from Jerry Brindisi, the soccer coach at North Catholic High School. He’d sent an e-mail that was upsetting to read.
He thought I’d want to know that ex-Falcon soccer player Danny Mooney had died earlier that day. He’d lost a long struggle with cancer.
Danny, who graduated from North in 2004, was diagnosed with osteosarcoma when he was in eighth grade.
The cancer, which starts in the bone, spread to his leg and a tumor was found near his lung. He had chemotherapy treatments and the disease took a lot out of him in the years following the diagnosis.
But if you’d met Danny Mooney, you never would have known it. Danny never let the disease get him down. He continued to play soccer for North, he attended classes regularly, and when he wasn’t receiving treatment in the hospital, he wanted nothing more than to just be a regular teenager.
I am convinced that his attitude, maybe even more than any medication, was what kept him alive and fighting. Sure, he often was tired. But he was always upbeat.
When Danny wasn’t able to play soccer, he’d do the job on the Falcons’ sideline. He cheered, he helped coach. He did whatever he could to let his teammates know he was still with them.
Danny loved soccer, but he also loved being around the team. He loved being one of the guys; he loved his friends.
And it wasn’t hard to find Danny Mooney’s pals. Anyone who knew Danny was his friend — you almost had to be.
He had a great sense of humor, he had a great outlook on life, and he never felt sorry for himself, even when he was sick and weak from the chemotherapy.
When Danny was told he had cancer as a youngster, he thought he was going to die. But after talking with doctors and his mother, Donna, he knew he had to fight this thing. He was going to beat this disease.
And for more than six years, he did.
He was a fighter.
He loved life.
He was determined to live a normal life for as long as he could.
And that’s exactly what he did.
I met Danny Mooney on a Sunday afternoon in October 2003. It was a cold, windy day and he was in the midst of treatment, so he was unable to compete in North’s soccer practices.
He could have been home on that Sunday, all warm and watching the Philadelphia Eagles. But he wasn’t. He was right where he wanted to be — among his best friends on the North Catholic soccer team.
He was sick. And yet he spent more time laughing, telling his funny one-liners, helping his teammates.
Danny talked about his cancer. He said he considered himself lucky. He figured that if he kept a positive attitude and had his friends and family around, he was going to keep moving ahead, day after day, and have a great time for as long as he lived.
And that’s exactly what he did.
Danny was set to attend college this fall. It won’t happen. That remarkable determination to have a great time for as long as he lived was stilled by cancer on July 6, just a little past noon. And now in death, as it was during his life, it isn’t hard to find Danny Mooney’s friends. They know they have lost something special.
But I’d like all of us to find comfort in knowing that he had a really good life. He said so. And though he endured a terrible illness and probably more pain than anyone should endure, his word should be good enough for us.
During his senior year at North, Danny got to play in a soccer game. He probably would have been a starter if his health had cooperated, but Danny didn’t complain. That he could step onto the field with his friends and play a game he loved made for a fine afternoon, as far as he was concerned.
I always thought of him as a role model for other young people or children trying to stay strong in the midst of a similar struggle. I thought about that after reading Jerry Brindisi’s e-mail. Whenever I had the chance to cross paths with Danny Mooney while doing my job, he made me smile every time I met him.
Sometimes it’s hard to understand such tragedies, but everyone who met Danny is better off, for what he brought to everyone’s life. And what they brought to his.
If I didn’t have this job, I never would have met Danny Mooney.
So maybe it’s the perfect job after all. ••
Sports editor Joe Mason can be reached at 215-354-3035 or jmason@phillynews.com