'Cancer just got their ass kicked': After being silenced, Dick Vitale's signature voice is back

LAKEWOOD RANCH, Fla. — Dick Vitale stares at the TV wide-eyed, resting his lower back on the couch to relieve soreness from a Neupogen shot that's meant to offset knifing pain from his second-to-last round of chemotherapy.

His living room has windows that overlook a golf course in the backyard and opens up to an office that could pass as a sports museum from a Hall of Fame broadcasting career. Hallways are decorated with pictures of his five grandchildren and family vacations. Vitale's wife of 50 years, Lorraine, scurries around the home to help pass out dessert after dinner.

"Coach K needs a timeout, he needs a T.O., baby," a raspy Vitale says as Texas Tech scores against Duke in Thursday's Sweet 16 game the Blue Devils go on to win. Seconds later, an errant pass leads to a Duke turnover. Texas Tech responds with a dunk that prompts Mike Krzyzewski – Vitale's longtime friend – to call timeout.

"Mike was one play too late. Duke’s momentum was screwed after that last play," he says.

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NOBODY LIKE VITALE: Broadcaster's fight against childhood cancer continues

At his southern Florida home, Vitale can't shut off his play-calling despite sitting out March Madness. He's in the recovery stages of a seven-month cancer fight, cleared to use his signature voice just a week earlier after a “fricken brutal” several months of resting his vocal cords and communicating only via text or with a dry-erase white board.

Lorraine, emotional recounting her husband's journey, has watched his spirits skyrocket since regaining his voice. "Having him quiet and unable to express himself, that was hard to watch. It was almost harder than the lymphoma (diagnosis),” she says.

"For three months, I felt trapped. I was sobbing when I got my voice back," Vitale tells USA TODAY Sports, his speech less animated and throat still tender from vocal cord surgery. "I love talking with people more than anything in life. And if I can’t communicate, I become so depressed."

'Cancer. Cancer. Cancer.'

Lorraine or Vitale's “secretary” as he calls her, reads her husband's chicken-scratch handwriting at night after NCAA Tournament games, then writes it on a jumbo dry-erase board for him to read the next day in four video segments breaking down the games. She shoots the videos herself before sending them to ESPN.

"It keeps me occupied, keeps me away from thinking about cancer," Vitale says. "It hasn't been easy. 'Cancer. Cancer. Cancer. Can he beat cancer?' "

Even with those video breakdowns, something’s still missing this March in the relationship between one man and millions of college basketball fans. He's unable to call the Final Four for ESPN International while resting his voice.

Vitale, 82, says listening to Steven Zeitels, the doctor who “saved my voice” (and singer Adele’s vocal surgeon), hasn’t been easy.

“I miss being on air so badly,” Vitale says. “When that red light goes on and we’re live, I’m talking to my friends. America, baby.”

Vitale has been talking to his friends in their living rooms for 43 years as the voice of college basketball, and if he's healthy, plans to call games next season.

'(Expletive), it's over!'

"Stick a fork in ‘em, they’re done," Vitale says, watching No. 4 Arkansas upset overall No. 1 seed Gonzaga. “That’s what Jimmy (Valvano) used to say when a game was over.”

Vitale’s son-in-law, Thomas Krug, counters during a dinnertime debate, noting how much time is left in the game.

“(Expletive), it’s over!” Vitale quips. “They’re about to have a party in Fayetteville tonight.”

Guess who was right?

Vitale's family members, rallying behind him during his battle with cancer, don't know him any other way than to have his bulldozing passion dominate the room.

“What you see with my dad on TV isn’t all that different than who he is at home. He’s actually more passionate at home. There’s nothing censored about him,” says his daughter Terri, who has traveled to Boston for all of his vocal cord treatments. “What it is: My Dad loves people and engaging with them.

“Growing up, my dad had always been this larger-than-life figure. I’ve definitely been seeing him in a very vulnerable state with cancer.”

Vitale has been sharing that vulnerability with the world – most notably, his 941,000-plus Twitter followers. Cancer and its treatments have caused unbearable bone and muscle pain, insomnia and worst of all, fear of time running out.

His engagement with fans isn't just college basketball analysis. It's about his matchup with the disease. He's shared updates before and after big procedures, had Lorraine shoot video of him interacting with doctors and nurses, and displayed his raw emotions fighting the illness.

"This is for those that are in my club of CANCER PATIENTS fighting the journey to beat this disease," Vitale tweets last week. "Yes the scans, bloodwork,blood counts. chemo treatments, NEUPOGEN shots that cause intense pain wear on us but Remember as my buddy Jimmy V said, 'Don't Give Up - DON'T EVER GIVE UP."

He tweets March 8, shortly before finding he's in remission: "Just finished PET SCAN. Now is the anxiety now waiting for Dr. (Rick) Brown to call with results .ALL cancer patients know that feeling . It is NERVOUS TIME (hoping) for some good news .Really appreciate all the (support) & (love) from so many of you ."

“When we first came to the hospital, they tried to give him an alias to respect his privacy,” Lorraine says. “We all laughed because sure enough, he was putting everything on social media.”

Terri adds: “At first it was like, 'whoa he's really sharing this.' He does that to inspire people who are going through what he’s going through. I would argue cancer’s made my dad’s spirit even stronger.”

The real Cinderella story

Every morning, Vitale prays to St. Jude (the patron saint of lost causes) near a photo of his late mother and father, Mae and John. He says his emotional availability came from their love and he still hears their voices guiding him, telling "Richie" to never give up chasing his dreams and lifting him up when he was bullied as a child because of a drifting left eye. Vitale injured his eye in an accident as a toddler before having corrective surgery as an adult.

Perhaps it's that confident persistence he got from his parents that helped Vitale win his own "Cinderella story," wooing his wife, Lorraine. During a recent dinner at an Italian restaurant in Sarasota, Lorraine recalls how Dick pursued her "at least five times" before she finally danced with him.

"We've been dancing ever since," he says, grabbing her face for a kiss. "And you're still just as beautiful."

"But we're like the odd couple," she says. "We both like different things." They find common ground with a love of concerts – and have an album full of pictures with everyone from Kenny Chesney to Bruce Springsteen to Drake.

"I'd be nothing without Lorraine in this cancer battle," Vitale says. "Nothing."

'John Calipari is sitting on the couch'

Growing up, Terri says she hardly knew her father was a celebrity until he needed bodyguards at a Final Four in the 1990s – when Dickie V had a bevvy of commercials on TV. His lifestyle is still hardly normal.

People in the Sarasota area ask for photos when he's out to eat – and he'll "never turn anyone away." He'll get a a daily prayer message from Tennessee coach Rick Barnes in the morning. He'll receive a text from John and Patrick McEnroe in the middle of the day. He'll have a missed call from legendary coach and friend Bob Knight in the evening. And he'll moonlight as a heroic grandfather, getting his granddaughters a chance to meet Taylor Swift at a concert.

"Sometimes I’ll walk in and John Calipari is sitting on the couch," Terri says. "Nothing surprises me anymore.

"But it felt so normal growing up because he'd call me at college and care as much about a chemistry test or my opponent in a tennis match as he did any of the four games he was calling that week."

Not much has changed.

Speaking to daughter Sherri about his granddaughter Ava's tennis match against a top-seeded opponent, Vitale shares a timely bit of advice.

"If Saint Peter's can win as a No. 15 seed, she damn sure can win against that girl. You tell her that," Vitale says.

Lorraine argues that her husband has hardly changed with his spirit since she met him. She says that fame hasn't gotten to him and has only accentuated what's always been on display for her. "He was making flyers to get people to come watch his kids play as a coach in the 1960s and 1970s," she says. "Now, he's doing the same thing with his (annual pediatric cancer) gala sending things out in the mail."

"My Dad sees through a different (lens). He's always grateful," Terri says. "What I've learned from his cancer battle is life is all about perspective. When we found out he had lymphoma instead of (more deadly) bile duct cancer back in the fall, we literally went out to celebrate."

Vitale's positive reframing is relentless, saying he's won his own national championship by becoming cancer-free this March.

"Cancer just got their ass kicked," Vitale says. "They couldn't take my man, Dickie V. ... I'm 82 years old. My life is in the last quarter, last four minutes, hoping to have a great finish."

Driving near his grandchildren's high school, he takes a moment to reflect about his family – grateful his daughters and grandchildren live nearby.

"If I die tomorrow, it's amazing what a life I've lived. I'm truly blessed," Vitale says. "My life’s exceeded any dream I’ve ever had."

Follow college basketball reporter Scott Gleeson on Twitter @ScottMGleeson.

This article originally appeared on USA TODAY: Dick Vitale's signature voice back: 'Cancer just got their ass kicked'