When the buzzer sounded, the scoreboard read Maryland 74, Purdue 64. Final score. Any melancholy thoughts were short-lived. After all, it was astonishing they made it to Sunday’s championship game.

The late-night bus ride returning to West Lafayette heralded the news of a mandatory meeting in the morning. This was of no great surprise. Having finished runner-up in the Big Ten Conference tournament, selections for the NCAA Championship were coming – a week away – and what to do in this ambiguous week would need to be discussed.

Except it wouldn’t.

“Fighting cancer is truly hard to explain but in these most adverse times, one's true character shines through. Coach V’s leadership, warrior mentality and unselfishness shined.”-Terry Kix, director of basketball operations

If you haven’t been through it, you might imagine the news hits at once, Hollywood movie-style. Either while sitting in a white-walled, sterile checkup room or on the receiving end of a late-afternoon phone call, your life changes in an instant when the doctor’s verdict blasts your eardrums like the sonic boom from a jet plane, temporarily rendering the next few sentences inaudible until something other than disbelief registers in your brain.

The reality is the news comes slowly. It starts in the shower after feeling a lump, or it returns in a curiously quickly review after an annual mammogram. You get called back for more X-rays. More tests. More checkups. A biopsy. Maybe two. Ultimately, you know something is there. Deep. Hidden. Lurking. How evasive and deadly that something is, ultimately, is what you’ll actually spend your doctor’s visit talking about. Because you already know that word is coming.

Sharon Versyp had her doctor’s visit on Feb. 20, 2017 – a Monday.

“When I ‘officially’ knew the type of cancer, breast cancer,” Versyp says, “I knew probably a couple weeks before (the doctor confirmed) it wasn’t looking very good for me.”

Versyp had already undergone a sequence of mammograms and biopsies. She handled this burden alone until she knew for sure what she was fighting. Like any coach worth their salt, she first wanted to craft a game plan before facing the opponent.

“I had pretty much kept it under wraps, but I knew that pretty quickly I wanted to make it public.”

If you haven’t been through it, you might imagine the slow burn of anticipation, anxiety to reach this point leaves the patient with a million questions. But, there’s just one.

“The C word shocks your world. You’re like – really?”

"I knew that cancer picked the wrong person to mess with. I knew that she would fight like hell and not let it take her down." - Meg Thornburg, graduate student manager

Versyp was a sophomore point guard for Purdue when then-head women’s basketball coach Dr. Ruth Jones passed away after a three-year battle with ovarian cancer.

“None of us wanted to stay. We were all just shook up; we were just rocked. We knew it was going to happen but that’s your first thought, is to run. It’s fight or flight.”

Three decades removed from Jones’ death, the Purdue head women’s basketball coach was coming to grips with how and when to inform her players.

She was no stranger to cancer. Versyp was 34 when her mother died from leukemia. Her nephew, Scott, suffered a seizure at 16 months old that was caused by a cancerous brain tumor. He faced grim odds and was one of few to survive an experimental surgery. He’s 30 now. The team’s director of basketball operations, Terry Kix, has been battling stage 3 stomach cancer since 2012. Assistant coach Beth Couture was diagnosed with stage 2 breast cancer when she was with Butler University in 2009.

But now she had cancer. Being known for coaching basketball and being known for fighting cancer are wholly opposite visibilities. And then there’s the team. It was nearly March, after all.

“Those around me and my family were pretty devastated,” Versyp recalls. “I wasn’t going to put that on 18 to 20 year olds.”

In a bit of serendipity, the Boilermakers’ season was trending upward. After a 7-6 start to conference play, Purdue crushed Iowa in a 20-point victory. The Boilermakers wore pink uniforms, instead of the usual white, in support of a long-standing national effort to raise awareness for women’s cancers.

Versyp was given her diagnosis the next morning, but it would be two weeks before anyone outside from her family, basketball staff and a few athletics department administrators would know.

The team won four straight to conclude the regular season, culminating with a fourth-quarter rally to beat Northwestern on the final possession of the game. It was Sunday. The Boilermakers were the No. 5 seed for the Big Ten Tournament and would play Illinois the following Thursday.

Versyp underwent a lumpectomy Tuesday.

“That was rough. That was really rough. No one really knew that was probably the hardest time initially.”

Discomfort took hold in Wednesday’s afternoon practice. The assistant coaches raised their voices to lessen her burden. Athletic trainer Jessica Lipsett fed extra ice and water to keep her hydrated. She made up an excuse to miss the team dinner in Indianapolis and instead lay in a hotel room bed and watched the Big Ten Tournament’s first round games on television.

On Thursday, Purdue cruised through its opening game against Illinois. It won its next game rallying from a 17-point deficit in the second half to eliminate Indiana. In the locker room afterwards, the players greeted Versyp with a barrage of hugs, high-fives and thrown towels. Some staff members cringed at the thought of the celebration splitting the fresh incisions in her armpit and on her breast.

They weren’t supposed to get that far, but Purdue reached the Big Ten Tournament Championship Game. They were one of the country’s hottest teams, having toppled ninth-ranked Ohio State by holding their prolific scorer Kelsey Mitchell to just 9 points.

“People don’t understand what athletics does. It’s inspiring when you’re in it with such an amazing group,” Versyp recounts. “The players, the staff – they kept uplifting me.”

“My most powerful memory of this journey was Sharon’s commitment to making this as seamless to her student-athletes as possible. She was not going to burden them with any of her issues until there was no possible negative impact on their season.” - Nancy Cross, senior associate athletics director

If you haven’t been through it, you might think that fighting cancer is like treating a virus. It comes with a diagnosis, procedures, medicine and a recovery plan and you execute it.

Fighting a deadly disease has more resemblance to buying a car. You research. A lot. You have to balance what you need now and in the future. You don’t take the word of the first specialist. You seek out numerous opinions from numerous radiologists and oncologists. You find a treatment plan that fits you.

“With cancer there are so many avenues for treatment,” Versyp says. “I went to two oncologists. I went to four different doctors in four different states. I heard four different things.”

Ultimately, one doctor diagnosed a more aggressive form of cancer. Versyp chose to battle that.

“At the end of the day, you’re going to need to know you made the best decision for yourself.”

The decision to make it public was a certainty. Within seconds of hearing the C-word reverberate off the doctor’s lips, Versyp knew she would use this as an opportunity to help others. Still, trepidation entered her mind: Am I going to be able to do my job? Are people going to support me? Will they question my effectiveness?

“My phone was constantly blowing up.”

The support poured in from coast to coast. Hundreds of phone calls and texts pinged her cell phone. Packages piled at the door to the women’s basketball offices inside Mackey Arena. The Kay Yow Foundation inquired how they could assist.

Purdue president Mitch Daniels immediately texted: Sharon, you’ve got this. You’ve got our prayers and whatever you need. Then Daniels followed up with a phone call.

“He has no idea what that meant to me.

“That’s what gets you through. Everybody tells you to take care of yourself. But it has a big impact.”

Versyp attributed the outpouring of support as a natural response to her efforts in outreach with numerous charities and individuals, including those affected by cancer.

“I paid it forward to people and, in turn, they helped me.”

Versyp carried out her charge of using her public stature to multiply awareness of the disease and speak to women about the importance of getting regular checkups.

“I had a handful of women,” Versyp says, “who had not gone to get mammograms. They went ahead and did that and half of them ended up having cancer. They text me and call me and say, ‘Thank you, because I wouldn't have otherwise done this.’”

“Why do bad things happen to good people? She has been a rock for so many different people; it was now our time to be a rock for her. Whether it be a text, a hug, or just someone to have small talk with, I wanted to do all I could to support her through her tough time, as she had done the same for me.” - David Pennewell, graduate student manager

One year later, long after the stream of well-wishes via text, the voicemails offering support and shipments of care packages dried up, the support system is still in place. That’s how it works with cancer.

“Once you go through something, everybody just thinks you’re fine. Everybody forgets that you had cancer. No, no. I’m still emotionally rattled.

“I maybe have five in my inner circle. My parents always said if you can count five on one hand, you’re pretty lucky. For others, it doesn’t affect them anymore.”

The inner circle keeps watch, making sure Coach is OK, asking when checkups are coming up.

If you haven’t been through it, you might think a cancer survivor’s mentality casts more focus on the big picture in life. To not sweat the small stuff.

In reality, it’s the opposite.

“It’s interesting because the little things never bothered me before. They bother me now,” Versyp admits. “I used to be so patient and now those little things just eat at me.”

Versyp said her conversations with other cancer survivors revealed she wasn’t alone in the change. She also learned the importance of doing the little things right. Eat well. Get sleep. Enjoy life. Laugh a lot. That’s the broad message, Versyp explains, and then there’s giving back to others.

“Some people ask, ‘Can I do anything for you?’ Don’t say it. Just do it. Do something. Send a note. Send them food. Whatever it may be.”

One year later, Sharon Versyp is still here. So is Terry Kix, who’s still fighting, and Beth Couture, and the handful of women who responded to Versyp’s call to get checked.

They’re winning their battles against cancer. Tomorrow, and the days following, they’ll stick with the game plan and record more victories.