On a mid-June Tuesday afternoon, the smothering odor of the Pembroke Academy weight room was a jarring transition from the crisp 70 degrees outside. Through the concoction of Axe body spray and sweat that floated through the air, the boys’ basketball team already had its mind on the 2024-25 season.

The Spartans have found a high level of success over the last two years — they’re 36-6 during that stretch, including a Division II state championship game appearance in 2023 and a semifinal appearance in 2024. Mike Donnell, the program’s head coach, is as ecstatic as he could be about the state of his program.

“This year’s the year,” he said with his thick New England accent, as his players grunted and grimaced with dumbbells in hand.

The day felt as distant from basketball season as possible. The gym was vacant, and Jim Cilley, one of Donnell’s assistant coaches, was dressed in a Hawaiian shirt and flip-flops. But Donnell is as impatient for the season to start as he’s ever been.

On April 10 this spring, he lay in a hospital bed in recovery from a colonoscopy. His wife Karen by his side, he received the news: stage III colon cancer.

“I was scared. I was very angry. I had a hard time getting a train of thought because my mind was going all over the place,” he said. “It scared the shit out of me. I don’t know what else to say.”

Winter evenings in the Pembroke Academy gym have become the place to be in town. There are high school students packing the bleachers. There are young kids holding signs. There are older folks with no direct connection to any of the players who just want to watch one of the top teams in the state play basketball. And then there’s Donnell near the center of it all.

At 6’3, he’s taller than most of his players. His paper-white mustache and goatee look soft to the touch. His booming voice commands whatever room he’s in.

Cilley calls him “The Mayor” because he wants to talk to everybody, and everybody wants to talk to him. Some of his players call him their grandfather, a nod to the wisdom and direction he’s provided in their lives.

So hearing this 66-year-old man brought to tears, as he comes to terms with his own mortality, can take your breath away.

“You realize that you’re only here for a certain amount of time, and I know I’m not going up the hill; I’m on that downward trend now at 66 years old,” Donnell said. “It’s made me appreciate how much I love coaching basketball, how much the kids mean to me and how much I have a desire to continue to do it.”

His prognosis is positive. The chemotherapy treatments should be able to wipe out the cancer, but Donnell’s message is more than just about his struggle. Also a teacher at Pembroke Academy, he has the capacity to teach and inspire hundreds of students. His openness about his health could resonate with a kid whose family member is enduring a similar challenge, or perhaps it could resonate with a kid who’s simply trying to learn how to cope with the inevitable obstacles in life.

At school, his desk is littered with letters from students. His phone blows up with texts. It all goes to validate Cilley’s nickname; Donnell is, in more ways than one, “The Mayor.”

“The community really has embraced his spirit, how much he loves this school and the community,” Cilley said. “It’s something where he’s really shown how much of his affection he has towards them, and I think they’ve given it back to him quite a bit.”

‘Rallying behind him’

Donnell guides his teams with a level of comprehensiveness that’s not always typical in high school basketball. During a practice, he might not dive into the weeds of Xs and Os — he’s said that’s why he has Cilley and his other assistant coach, Julia Valotto, on his staff — but he’s always making the rounds, making sure everybody is at their best.

It’s why he coaches. It’s why he teaches.

Little about Donnell’s teams seems out of the ordinary. They talk about each other as a family, they play hard on the court and they often hang out together off of it. In the weight room, there are the shenanigans typical of high school-aged boys.

Spend more time around this program, or perhaps simply read some of the letters Donnell’s received from his players, and the depth of the connections that exist becomes more evident.

“The last guy on the roster feels loved and supported just as the first guy does,” Cilley said. “He’s able to show the same type of love and care and support that really they all deserve at the end of the day.”

“He probably gives the guy that’s last on the roster more love than the first guy,” Valotto added.

This still might feel cliche, in a vacuum at least. But if Donnell hadn’t touched the lives of so many students, and if Donnell hadn’t created this family that transcends the basic tenets of what it means to be a family, none of what’s happened since he announced his cancer diagnosis would’ve taken place.

At a Pembroke baseball game in April, Donnell sat in his lawn chair up against the backstop, one foot pressed against the fence. Five of his players who don’t play baseball had come to watch the others who do. One by one, they came up to their coach. They shook his hand firmly and looked him in the eye — lessons he instills in his students as a transition lab instructor who focuses on teaching organizational and life skills. They all wanted to know how he was feeling.

“It hit us hard because we never expected it,” said Devin Riel, a rising senior. “We’re gonna fight with him, and he’s gonna beat it. We’re just rallying behind him.”

‘Nobody fights it alone’

Since Donnell found out he’d need to go for chemo, he’s doubled down on his investment in Pembroke basketball. It’s partly to take his mind off of the hospital visits and side effects and the general grimness that comes with letting your mind wander about the end of life. That’s what sports are supposed to be: a distraction from harsh realities.

There’s a balance that Donnell needs to strike, though. Cilley’s told him. Valotto’s told him. Pembroke athletic director Fred Vezina and headmaster Dan Morris have told him. He needs to take care of himself first. His chemo treatments are scheduled to end in December, just in time for the start of the season. They want him to be ready for that.

“The message that he needs to understand — and that anybody that’s suffering through a disease like this should understand — is that nobody fights it alone,” Cilley said. “You have to rely on other people.”

The Spartans’ summer league has already begun. Donnell shared that they won their first game by 34 points. Clearly, taking a step back won’t be easy.

But asked what he hopes his players and students have learned from his openness about battling this disease, his voice quavered again.

“Things happen, and it’s important when things happen to you, how you deal with them,” he said. “Try to stay positive when you have a negative in front of you; how to approach everything in a realistic manner.”

It all built to a crescendo.

“If you love doing something and you enjoy doing something,” he continued, “do it really well because you never know when it’s going to be gone.”