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September 19, 2002

BY RON RAPOPORT SUN-TIMES COLUMNIST

When the Bush administration announced hearings on Title IX, supporters of women's college sports were suspicious. Was this the opening shot in an attempt to water down the law's equal-opportunity requirements? Was it a payoff for those who believe the gains women have made have come at the expense of men's teams?

But when the members of the commission that would hold the hearings were announced, there was a disconnect. Athletes like Cynthia Cooper , Julie Foudy and Donna De Varona? Women athletic directors like Deborah Yow of Maryland and Cary Groth of Northern Illinois? Coaches like Muffet McGraw of Notre Dame? These are all solid supporters of Title IX, and they are hardly likely to recommend changes that would mollify the college wrestling coaches who insist Title IX is killing their sport.

''When I got the call from the White House, I said, 'Why me? You know my position,''' De Varona, co-founder of the Women's Sports Foundation, told me Wednesday as the commission's two-day hearing at the Drake Hotel was winding up. ''But I couldn't resist being on it.''

And when I asked Groth if she was concerned the purpose of the hearings might be to give cover to those who would cut back on Title IX, she said, ''If I were to accept that, I would have been silly to accept the job.''

''Everything's political, and anything is possible,'' De Varona said when I asked if she was worried about the future of Title IX. ''The administration had to bow to very powerful forces''--and here she made special reference to the nation's most famous former wrestling coach, House Speaker Dennis Hastert--''and I really think the wrestlers were convinced they could make a case against Title IX.''

For now, De Varona is heartened by the way the hearings have gone, but she is keeping her guard up.

''In the best of all worlds, we'll report back that the heartland is in favor of Title IX,'' she said. ''But I have a right to be nervous. That's why I'm on the commission.''

Who killed wrestling?

To the argument by wrestling coaches that Title IX is killing their sport, De Varona said: ''I think wrestling has died a natural death. A lot of wrestling programs were dropped from 1984 to '88 when Title IX enforcement was dormant. Insurance costs are very high in that sport, and it could have been a lack of interest.

''We're all sympathetic to the sports that have been dropped, and we're sorry that women have been blamed.''

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Bellevue teen determined to overcome injury

BY VERONICA ROSMAN 9/20/02
WORLD-HERALD STAFF WRITER

Sitting sideways on the couch, Alexis Andrade snaps her fingers and breaks into song.

The 17-year-old Bellevue girl belts out a tune she sang in eighth-grade chorus, then switches to her own version of the classic "Stormy Weather."

But moments later, she is frustrated that she can't remember her sister-in-law's name and cries when her parents describe her as cute.

"If you think so," Alexis whispers, tearfully.

"Yes, we do," her mother, Michele, says proudly.

Alexis' tears are quickly replaced with an infectious smile.

Just being able to sit on the couch and sing is a triumph for Alexis, who lapsed into a coma six months ago after practicing at an Omaha pro wrestling school. Doctors say she suffered a head injury. She underwent surgery to remove a blood clot from her brain and spent three months recovering in the hospital.

Alexis is talking, walking and going to school four hours a day - all things that doctors weren't sure she would be able to do.

And her spunky streak - evident by how she tells jokes to complete strangers and lovingly teases her parents - is still there and driving her to regain a normal life.

But for all Alexis' progress, debilitating effects of her brain injury linger. She tires easily, has difficulty controlling her emotions and struggles with short-term memory problems. She also is relearning that some of her behaviors, such as crying impulsively, aren't how a young adult should act.

Through it all, her family has learned to take the challenges in the same stride as the successes.

"It's not her fault," her mother said. "It takes years to recover from a brain injury."

The family's ordeal started March 6 after Alexis finished her third practice at the Omaha Wrestling Association's pro-wrestling school in north Omaha.

Alexis said she became a pro wrestling fan after watching it for years on television with her two older brothers. When she heard about the wrestling school, she asked her parents if she could join. They discussed it as a family, her mother said, and agreed to let Alexis try it.

About 8:30 p.m. that March night, Alexis called her father, Arturo, to say she had hurt her head and asked him to come get her.

A short time later, a passer-by found Alexis slumped over her car's steering wheel in a fast-food parking lot a few blocks away.

She was rushed to Immanuel Medical Center in a coma, unable to tell her parents or authorities exactly what happened to her.

At the hospital, doctors discovered that Alexis had an acute subdural hematoma - a condition in which the brain bleeds internally, putting pressure on the surrounding tissue, said Dr. Thomas Franco, an Omaha rehabilitation specialist who is treating Alexis.

Symptoms often come on slowly, usually starting as a headache then building to sleepiness and unconsciousness up to several hours later.

Alexis' injury was the type often seen in boxers and high school football players, Franco said. "It's usually not the type of injury you get from jogging."

Trainers at the wrestling school said Alexis was fine when she left practice that night. They didn't see her do anything that could have caused her injury.

The wrestling school has not changed any procedures since Alexis was injured because she wasn't injured training at the school's gym, a wrestling school spokesman said this week.

Omaha police investigated the incident, ruling that Alexis' injuries were an accident. But they didn't determine a cause.

Alexis' parents declined to talk about the wrestling school or whether they hold it responsible for their daughter's injury.

Alexis still doesn't remember how she was injured or much of her recovery afterward. When asked about the two-inch pink scar at the base of the front of her neck, her face goes blank and her fingers reach up to investigate the mark.

"What's that from?" Alexis asks.

"That's where your tracheotomy tube was," her mother answers. "It helped you breathe when you were in the hospital."

"I'm sorry, Mom," Alexis says, her voice starting to crack and her eyes welling with tears.

"I just wish it had never happened," she adds.

As for Alexis' future, Franco said nothing can change the fact that the injury damaged parts of her brain. She probably won't ever be the same person she was before the accident, he said.

But Franco is hopeful that Alexis will be able to live a relatively normal life, including driving a car, developing a romantic relationship and raising a family.

"She's already a success story, regardless of what she does from this point on," Franco said. "Everyone should jump up and down to celebrate her triumph."

For now, Alexis' family is concentrating on getting her through school. If everything goes right, she could graduate from Bellevue East High School in May, her mother said.

Meanwhile, Alexis has more lofty goals in mind. She wants to drive her car soon, go back to her job at Krispy Kreme Doughnuts and become a meteorologist.

But don't expect her to be the kind of meteorologist who sits in an office.

"I want to chase tornadoes," Alexis says.

"Oh, my," her mother gasps. "You're just trying to make me worry, aren't you?"

"Yes," the teen says with a devilish look in her eye.

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