Hawk deals with a bigger loss

By KEITH NIEBUHR
Published April 16, 2006

There he stood, off to the side and all alone.

Justin Hickman was overcome with sorrow.

Moments earlier, his Armwood team had fallen short in its effort to claim the program's third consecutive state title. And as a victorious Ponte Vedra Beach Nease group received its medals, tears fell fast and furious down the junior quarterback's angry face.

Coaches tried to console him.

Teammates patted him on the back.

Nothing seemed to work.

This was painful.

As painful as things could get.

Or so he thought.

A little more than a month later, Jan.22 to be exact, Hickman's definition of pain and suffering dramatically changed.

Armwood offensive tackle Josh Uhlarik, a talented and likable kid who smiled as much as anybody Hickman knew, took his own life.

"He was the first true friend I ever lost," Hickman said. "It still hasn't sunk in."

The two of them, who had known each other since the seventh grade, were close. Not best friends, but very good friends. Off the field, they hung out after practice, had dinner now and then and went to the movies a few times.

During games, they sat together on the bench after every series and had a certain type of chemistry that is hard for Hickman to describe.

"We'd just look at each other, and we'd know what to do," Hickman said. "We had a good bond."

They were together the night before Uhlarik's death. They talked about school, about football, about the 2006 season and about college. The next day, it was over. "I called him five minutes before it happened," Hickman said. "He didn't pick up the phone."

Like many who knew Uhlarik, Hickman has done a good bit of soul-searching since Uhlarik's death. Because of the synchronicity between them, Hickman has found it particularly troubling that he didn't see it coming.

"I didn't have a clue," he said, before sighing. "Not even a clue. I'll never know why he did it."

For about a week and a half after Uhlarik's death, Hickman couldn't sleep. He struggled in class. On the baseball field, where much of his spring has been occupied, his mind often drifted.

He has spoken only briefly to Uhlarik's parents. As you can imagine, it was tough for Hickman to find the right words, especially for a teenager so unprepared for the moment.

In Hickman's car, he keeps the program from Uhlarik's funeral. Every day, he wonders if there was something he could have done. He has feelings of anger, of disappointment, of guilt.

Mainly, though, he misses his friend.

"He was a great person to be around," Hickman said. "He always put a smile on my face if I was down. And if he was down, it wasn't hard to bring him up. He was a goofy, funny kid."

Today, looking back on the loss of that December game isn't as difficult as it once was. There will, after all, be other days, other games, other chances to attain glory.

The real shame of it is one of Hickman's closest friends won't be there to share those moments.

[Last modified April 16, 2006, 00:43:12]