On July 17, 2015, Clate Schmidt and his family walked into Turner Field and saw headlights flashing on major league uniforms.
A 21-year-old junior at Clemson, the right-hander had begun chemotherapy for nodular sclerosing Hodgkin lymphoma about a month earlier. Times were tough, but the visiting Cubs provided two role models for the Atlanta-area family: Jon Lester and Anthony Rizzo, who had battled other forms of lymphoma before enjoying successful careers.
Clarke Schmidt of the New York Yankees pitches against the Mariners at Yankee Stadium in May. (Photo by Jim McIsaac/Getty Images)
“It was in my brother’s heart to get treatment and stuff,” Yankees starting pitcher Clarke Schmidt, who is scheduled to pitch against the Cubs on Saturday, told the Daily News. “So it was cool not only for my brother to have perspective and see the other side of it, but for my family. There’s not a lot of positive moments when you’re going through something like that.”
The Schmidts — the two brothers, their parents, their grandmother and a friend — were invited to the Cubs-Braves game that day by Lester, who battled anaplastic large cell lymphoma as a 22-year-old Red Sox rookie in 2006. The World Series-winning left-hander broke from his routine that day, spending all of batting practice and then some with family always looking for advice.
When Clate asked about the challenges ahead, Lester answered honestly.
“He said, ‘Listen, man, this is not going to be easy,’” Clate told The News. “‘There’s a good chance you’re never going to get back to the shape you were in before, but there’s also a good chance you’re going to get back to the shape you were in before.’ And that’s what I really appreciated. He kept saying, ‘I’m working day in and day out to get back to 100 percent health.’”
Clarke Schmidt (left) passed up an opportunity to pitch in the Cape Cod League so he could be with his brother Clate during his chemotherapy treatment. (Courtesy of Clate Schmidt)
Lester added that Clate’s baseball aspirations would have to take a back seat to the health of his body. The treatment, Lester said, would probably be the hardest thing Clate ever went through. He would have to lean on his family.
Eventually, Clate and Lester began talking about their other interests, including baseball, hunting, Lester’s favorite restaurants and the All-Star property in Atlanta. “I wanted to be like him,” Clate said, but Lester also took care of the entire family that day, reassuring Clarke, their parents, Dwight and Renee, and their grandmother, Janet.
“When you have a family member with cancer, it feels like the whole family is going through it,” Clarke said. “There are a lot of times when it’s really boring and there’s not a lot of positivity. You try to be as positive as you can, but obviously it’s a disease that has a huge impact. Being able to have those conversations with [Lester] “We had a chance to talk about what it was like to go through it and know that there was light at the end of the tunnel. It was almost like a little bit of hope. It gave us some perspective. He was great, he took a lot of time out of his day. Now I know what it’s like. When you’re going through it day in and day out, it’s kind of hard to give. We were just a random family to him, and he took a lot of time out of his day and spent a lot of time with us, so we’re obviously very grateful for that.”
Dwight added: “From my perspective, it was huge. It gave him hope. He saw an individual like him who was capable of defeating him.”
Once the connection was made, Lester reached out to Clate regularly in the months that followed. As he had anticipated, the Schmidt family proved instrumental in Clate’s healing.
Clarke, two years his junior and a pitcher at South Carolina, played a special role, serving as his big brother’s rock whenever Clate felt sick or down. Clarke attended Clate’s first chemotherapy treatment, and he passed up a chance to pitch in the Cape Cod League — a valuable opportunity for a promising prospect — so he could be there for the rest of his brother’s games.
“My first gut reaction was to feel angry,” Clate said of the choice. “I agreed to the Cape. I understand the opportunity and the prestige. So I thought, ‘Oh my God, well now I’m the obstacle here.’”
Clarke called it an “easy decision” and he eventually found time to attend summer ball in South Carolina.
“I would have sacrificed anything to spend more time with him and be closer to him,” Clarke continued. “You never know. The success rate for chemotherapy and cancer is higher, but you still don’t know. It’s still cancer. So I wasn’t going to regret those moments with him. Yeah, I sacrificed being able to play basketball in the summer and things like that, but those memories and that bond, you can’t replicate that.”
With the help of his family and doctors every step of the way, Clate underwent his final round of treatments on September 1, 2015. With his truck packed for baseball practice, he drove straight from the hospital to Clemson so he could squeeze in a workout.
It went against his doctor’s advice – and Lester’s warnings to put his body before baseball – but a stubborn Clate was tired of waiting.
“There was conditioning and all that. Needless to say, I made it about five steps before I wanted to throw up and die,” Clate said. “You have to imagine your body being on a complete and total reset button. It’s like you’ve selected everything on your computer, control, alt, delete, and everything inside your body just disappears. So all the muscle mass, all the conditioning, all the good stuff that I had built up was wiped out because that’s what chemo does. It wipes out the good and the bad, because it has to.”
“So it was, during that time, one of the most mentally and physically exhausting things I had to recover from, to say the least.”
Clate knew it would take time to get back into baseball shape, but he was thrilled to have the chance to pitch again. In the months that followed, he worked tirelessly to regain his strength.
The Schmidt brothers pose with their family in March 2016 after Clate recovered from cancer treatment and returned to Clemson. (Courtesy of Clate Schmidt)
That effort earned him a spot as one of Clemson’s opening weekend starters in 2016. Clate set that goal for himself, and he went on to post a 4.83 ERA over 18 games before the Tigers, who also drafted him out of high school, used a 20th-round choice on him.
Clate spent a few seasons in the lower levels of the Detroit and Cincinnati systems, but he stopped playing professionally after the 2019 campaign. With the pandemic canceling the 2020 minor league season and Clate experiencing shoulder pain the year before, he tried his hand at medical sales before attending flight school. In doing so, he took a cue from his father, a longtime Marine Corps and Delta Air Lines pilot.
Clate has now nearly reached 1,500 hours of flight time. Better yet, he hasn’t had cancer since leaving for Clemson.
He also stays in touch with Lester, as the former major leaguer visits the Schmidt family each November for a silent auction benefiting the Rally Foundation, a nonprofit that raises awareness and funds for childhood cancer research. Clate doesn’t talk to Lester as much in the months that follow, but he considers the former Cub a “mentor.”
Although Clate didn’t follow Lester’s path to the major leagues after cancer, he embodied the pitcher’s willingness to share and help others going through similar battles.
“Why can’t I be the one leading the dance from the tip of the spear?” Clate wondered after first hearing his diagnosis. “This won’t be a story for me. This will be a story for those who come after me.”
