To Jack Hoffman
Jack Hoffman passed away from cancer Wednesday. He was 19.
I wasn’t yet sitting in the press box as a member of Nebraska’s media on April 6, 2013. Instead, I sat somewhere in the stands of East Stadium as one of 60,174 fans in attendance for the annual Husker spring game.
It was your standard spring game by all accounts. Taylor Martinez and Tommy Armstrong Jr. were the two quarterbacks battling it out, combining to complete 13-of-17 passes for 207 yards and two touchdowns. The duo led the Red Team to a 32-25 victory.
The day is fuzzy in hindsight — as it often is with memories as time moves forward — but I remember I was looking down at my phone in the fourth quarter. The crowd started to get a little louder for some reason, which prompted my now-husband to nudge my arm. He wasn’t quite sure what was going on, but something was and he wanted me to weigh in.
I looked up and saw what looked like a little boy — decked out in a Husker uniform with a helmet just a tad too big — walking out from the Red Team huddle and onto the field alongside Martinez. The two lined up — the little boy to Martinez’s left — and snapped the ball. Martinez handed it off, and the little boy took it 69 yards to the endzone for the final touchdown of the spring game.
Players from both the Red and White Teams lifted the little boy up high on their shoulders and celebrated him, as the crowd cheered loudly. For many in the crowd, they didn’t yet know who they’d just watched score the touchdown but they knew the team was excited and that was enough.
We later learned, of course, that the little boy was Jack Hoffman (who had been diagnosed with brain cancer in 2011).1
As a journalist, I write in AP Style. That means I should refer to the subject of my story by their last name after first mention. I can’t do that. It might be untraditional, but for the rest of this story, I’m going to just call him Jack.
Because that’s who we all knew, after all.
I was fortunate to have met and known the Hoffmans over the last 12 years. I’d bump into Jack, or his parents Andy and Brianna, from time-to-time. I attended the Team Jack Gala a couple of times too, always inspired by what the Hoffmans had built from one of the most difficult challenges they had faced.
It was difficult to hear the news Wednesday that Jack had passed away after his 14-year battle with cancer. I had kept up with Jack’s CaringBridge over the years — which his mom kept updated — which meant I was surprised to see an update after a nearly four-year break in spring 2023.
“He had a routine scan in March and unfortunately the results were what every parent (and kid) dreads--tumor progression,” Brianna wrote on April 7 of that year.
That update kicked off the last year and a half of updates, following Jack through the end of his junior year of high school into his senior year and then into college. Brianna shared the highs and lows — which she navigated with such grace despite also having lost her husband Andy to brain cancer in March 2021 — and signed them on behalf of herself, Jack, and his two sisters, Ava and Reese. I read each one with an immense amount of hope, always sending as much positivity into the universe for Jack and his family.
Brianna wrote in July 2024 about the curveball this all had been. She shared that she and Andy had always thought Jack’s tumor was low grade and would become dormant once he reached his 20s.
“Andy’s worst fear has come to life; Jack’s brain tumor has transformed into a high grade tumor that needs aggressive treatment,” she wrote.
I spent the fall checking for updates often, and was happy when Jack made his way to college at the University of Nebraska at Kearney. He was pre-law, wanting to become a lawyer like his dad. Jack balanced treatment and class, attending Nebraska volleyball and football games through the fall.
He wasn’t able to finish the semester — something his mom wrote about when she said she was heartbroken emailing his professors that he wouldn’t be able to take his finals — but he still made the dean’s list. His mom had noted in one update about how hard he had worked through the semester.
And it’s clear how hard Jack worked through the short time he had. His impact was wide — so wide it’s almost impossible to sum up into words — and that impact lives on through the Team Jack Foundation. Since its founding, Team Jack has raised $12.638 million for childhood brain cancer research.
I don’t really know how to end this — I didn’t really know how to start this, if I’m being honest — so I’ll leave you with a story. On Sept. 15, 2013, I bumped into Jack outside of Memorial Stadium. He was wearing a red “22” jerseys — in honor of Rex Burkhead — and was getting stopped left and right.
I remember thinking how hard that had to be for a 7-year-old. He was there to watch his favorite football team, yet he couldn’t take more than a few steps before someone else stopped him to say hi and ask for a photo.
Jack didn’t seem bothered though, at least not outwardly.
“Can I just say how awesome Jack is? I know we all know this, but for such a young man, he is SO polite and kind,” I wrote about the interaction. “What a special kid.”
Yes, Jack was is special. But like I said 12 years ago, we all knew know this. That’s why I’m going to end this by linking you to other stories on Jack worth reading (or watching, in one case).
All the love to the Hoffman family. May Jack’s memory be a continued revolution that changes the landscape of childhood brain cancer forever.
Jack Hoffman didn't set out to be a hero, but he became our hero anyway
‘There’s no freaking way’: Inside Jack Hoffman’s world, 10 years after Spring Game fame
Jack Hoffman, Nebraska fan known for 'The Run,' dies of cancer at 19
I’m oversimplifying a lot of Jack’s story, simply because there are places that can detail it far better than I can.
Thank you for sharing your thoughts on Jack and his family. I was also fortunate to be at the Spring Game that showcased an amazing run by Jack that continues to inspire us to this day on so many levels.
💔