Even in his darkest hour, Craig Sager kept making us smile

Cancer has taken Craig Sager from us, but not without a fight.

There are some rare people in this world who are so radiant that we can’t help but admire them. They’re like moths to a flame, except rather than killing with kindness, they inadvertently bring others back to life.

Sager was a person like this. For so many decades, his light brought smiles to the faces of countless numbers of people. He was the most gentle of souls.

Yet, the word most used to describe him in his last days was “strong.”

Strength comes in many forms. In basketball, the most obvious is visceral strength. The bulging biceps, the sharpened calves, the rounded Atlas-like shoulders and the entire bodies covered in networks of veins. That’s the easiest form of strength to understand. It makes itself apparent and we, as visual creatures, overvalue what we see. Only, the body is susceptible to disasters inflicted by external and internal force that we know its strength is ephemeral.

To that end, we also know (but hesitate to quantify) the more abstract strength of the mind. The power of will. The strength Stephen Curry possesses in being able to grind out games in the chase for the NBA wins record. The determination to keep fighting, even when the body is failing. The one Curry himself found inspirational in Craig Sager:

That type of strength is much more important than physical force. The body is limited in many ways that the mind is not; where the braun stops, the brains exceeds. Mental strength is needed to fight a vicious disease like cancer, to go through chemotherapy and a bone-marrow transplant as your flesh fails you. It’s needed to come out as the victor and finally return to your job, your passion.

That strength is also doubly needed when that cancer returns and you have to begin the fight again, especially after doctors are cryptic in their second diagnosis.

Through his battle with cancer, Sager’s light never flickered and his gentleness never waned. When he returned to the sidelines again, asking athletes and coaches banal questions about basketball while the heaviness of his situation hung between every word, his light shone just as bright as it did a few years ago. His presence alone, in 2016 and for the last few decades, managed to turn one of the most boring aspects of the game in the sideline interview into a pleasant exchange.

The fans knew this as well. It’s impossible to be cynical when the camera panned over to him to reveal that permanent smile and consistently-excited voice of a man bedecked unpredictably in paisley, neon or sequins. We will miss that dearly.

Sager had a radiance that cuts through the miserable darkness of the world, one that gives allowance not to fight, but to relax, breathe and not take things so seriously for a moment. He had within him a peacefulness that extended to anyone who encountered him. His personality gestured to the audience that it’s alright to be a bit silly and have fun. In just being himself -- which is a critical aspect of what makes his light so attractive, it was so genuine -- he brought out the child in all of us. How wonderful is that?

When Sager was fighting for his life, we were frustrated with the naïve belief that life should be more fair than this. If good things can’t happen to good people, then at least the worst should not befall them. They shouldn’t have to doubly suffer. But as Sager himself showed throughout his long fight, the only way to counteract this frustration is with love, and a lot of it.

The ultimate form of this love came when his son donated a bone-marrow that initially warded off the disease. For the rest of us, there’s the opportunity to donate to Sager-sponsored Leukemia and Lymphoma Society, who are working towards a cure for that disease and other blood cancers.

There were also things like the #SagerStrong campaign. Many fans and reporters wore their personal versions of Sager’s suits in solidarity. Along with coaches and players, they sent their best wishes, prayers and words of comfort to show support to Sager.

This effort was so critical. This emotional interview with then-Wizards coach Randy Wittman, Sager’s long-time friend, shows exactly why:

Wittman was right. The game was not important, but Sager’s smile at the end was.

For over four decades, Sager shined a light for NBA audiences everywhere. We’ve been with him for so long that we’ve come to expect that light every telecast. And up to his last moments, he spent his strength brightening the world.

And now we have to return the favor. We have to be the mirror that reflects him, because that smile at the end of the interview, and the happiness that he has brought to countless lives, to be able to mirror his radiance, is more essential than anything we can say or write on him now.

This piece was originally published on April 7, 2016 and updated on Dec. 15, 2016.