Many people don’t realize how much the families of collegiate coaches give up.  

Illini baseball head coach Dan Hartleb doesn’t want that to seem like a bad thing. There are plenty of positives to it as well, he said. People don’t always understand the profession. They don’t realize how difficult the lives of those connected to a coach can be. 

When tragedy strikes, outsiders get a glimpse. In Hartleb’s case, people had more than just one look into those lives.

In the past month, he has made three separate trips home to Hamilton, Ohio, to spend time with his father in the hospital before he passed away on April 5. 

Hartleb’s first trip came days before the Illini’s opening home series against Xavier on March 21. His father, also named Dan, had undergone surgery for a twisted bowel, in which two feet of his intestines were removed. 

Hartleb never thought he would need to make three trips home. At 86 years old, it didn’t seem likely his father would survive the surgery. 

He did, and Hartleb returned to Champaign in time to coach his team through its four-game series with Xavier. The Illini collected three wins after losing the opener and went on to take another victory from Illinois State at home on Wednesday, March 26. It was Illinois’ second winning streak of the season. 

The next day, Hartleb received a call that brought him back to Fort Hamilton Hospital. 

“There was a window to possibly get him off the ventilator for surgery,” he said. “It was very high-risk, didn’t think he’d make it through that.

“Sure enough, he made it through that portion.”

From there, his father was moved from the hospital and into a hospice facility, and Hartleb returned to the Illini in time for the series finale against Purdue on March 30.

Returning this time was harder. In terms of the team, things were fine. He trusts his coaching staff, which lessened his concerns as a coach. But as a son, his burden lingered.

“During innings, where I should really have great focus, there were times where I found myself wandering a little,” he said.

As a ninth-year head coach, Hartleb’s faced distractions before. No matter what the distraction, he’s always retained a great feel for what’s going on in the game. But there was no greater distraction than not knowing when his dad would pass.

“When he was still living, not knowing, there wasn’t that closure,” Hartleb said.

“This was just different.”

***

Associate head coach Eric Snider never needed to ask Hartleb what he was going through. From his own experiences, he knows the difficulties of balancing a personal and a professional life.

In spring of 2000, when Hartleb was still the Illini pitching coach, Illinois was in East Lansing, Mich., for a series against Michigan State.

Snider was serving in his second year as assistant coach for the Illini. Before arriving at Illinois, he had managed about 400 baseball games for two summer league teams. 

When he stepped off the field following another routine pregame batting practice, word reached him that his pregnant wife was in the hospital going into labor. She was only 26 weeks pregnant.

Snider loaded onto the team’s travel bus and was taken to the Detroit airport, where he flew back to be with his wife in Champaign.

At about 4 a.m. on April 5, 2000, she gave birth to premature triplets — Nicholas, Jenna and Noa Snider.

Ten days later, Nicholas passed away.

“I went into work after it happened, went recruiting,” Snider said. “Our job takes up a lot of time. You have your baseball team, you have people who are counting on you. 

“And then something happens within your family, and you’re torn with your job and your family.”

Today, Snider wishes he hadn’t spent so much time working during the ordeal. 

He and his wife eventually divorced. He now lives with Jenna and Noa in Savoy along with his eldest son, Jacob. Last year, he saw just 11 innings of Jacob’s baseball season at Champaign Central High School.

“My family understands, they know why. That’s the way it is,” Snider said. “You’re getting so caught up with everyday things that sometimes you lose sight of what’s going on.”

***

On April 4, the Illini were in Evanston, Ill., for their series opener against Northwestern. Just after batting practice, Hartleb got a phone call from his sister, Beth. She told him the news he had been fearing since his father was hospitalized. The elder Dan Hartleb’s time was nearing an end.

When Snider found out, he told Hartleb to go, to be with his dad.

“Don’t do what I did,” he said. 

Hartleb went into Northwestern head coach Paul Steven’s office and waited during the first three innings of the game while Beth traveled to Berkeley Square Healthcare, their father’s hospice facility. While he waited, Illinois went up one run the Wildcats.

When she arrived, she tried to put the two on the phone. Hartleb talked, but his father wasn’t all there — he wasn’t coherent.

“At the same time, when I talked to my mother after I had spoken to my father on the phone, she told me to stay and make sure we won games,” Hartleb said with a small smile. “Once again, I didn’t listen to her.”

Injured Northwestern player Kyle Ruchim drove Hartleb back to the team’s hotel room, where he showered and grabbed his belongings before being taken to O’Hare airport.

There, he rented a car and hurried back to Champaign to get his family — his wife, Gina, and two kids, Zakary and Haley. Together, they piled into their car and headed for Hamilton, Ohio.

Sometime in the hours before the Hartlebs reached Hamilton, the Illini shut out the Wildcats, 13-0, and claimed their third win of the Big Ten season.

***

By Saturday, most of Hartleb’s immediate family had arrived at the hospice facility, but they hadn’t all been in to see the elder Hartleb at the same time.

That afternoon, Hartleb gathered everyone together — his sister, his wife and his father’s sister. As a family, they entered his father’s room to see him one last time.

His mother was already in the room. In 55 years of marriage, she had never left her husband’s side. Not during any one of his 11 major surgeries and illnesses. Not six years ago when he first needed a wheelchair to get around. Not at the end.

When Hartleb came in with family on all sides, his mother turned to her son and told him they wanted all the memorial donations to go to Illinois baseball’s booster club: the Fighting Illini Dugout Club.

“As soon as they told me that, he opened his eyes,” said Hartleb, his voice beginning to break, “and then he passed.”

Less than two hours later, Illini players scrambled onto the bus after their second win over Northwestern.

Once everyone was abroad, Snider broke the news of the elder Hartleb’s passing. The bus fell into silence, followed by a collective prayer from players and coaches.

While no one said it at first, most players also made a promise.

“We just really wanted to have Coach Hartleb not have to worry about us,” starting pitcher John Kravetz said. “We were thinking about him, thinking about his family, but we just wanted to not be a distraction to him.”

***

Nearly a week later, Hartleb sits in the main room of Illinois baseball clubhouse on a Monday afternoon, dressed in a white polo and resting in a leather chair near the corner of the room as he reflects upon what’s changed since his trips to Ohio began weeks earlier.

He recalls the moment of silence before Friday’s game against Michigan to commemorate his father’s passing,  

And he thinks about the blue letters DCH — his father’s initials — stitched inside his in-game ball cap: once on each side of the middle seam and a third time on the innermost part of the bill alongside the No. 24, Hartleb’s jersey number.

His team is constantly on his mind, but today Hartleb is appreciating its dedication in absence. Most weeks, he has some type of minor player issue he needs to address, whether athletically or academically.

In the past three weeks, he has dealt with zero issues.

And always, he worries about his mom, alone in Hamilton for the first time in 55 years. Leaving her was the toughest part of coming back. Of course, he also knows if he stayed much longer, he would drive her crazy.

He’ll never forget what she told him days before his final moment with his father.

In the week leading up to his dad’s death, he brought up the funeral possibilities with her on the phone. He debated whether he and his wife should leave their kids in school and bring them to see him only after he passed. It was difficult knowing it was coming but not knowing when.

She answered his question with questions of her own, “What do we need to do? How does it fit into your schedule next week?”

The sense of sacrifice is always there with every member of any coach’s family. Too often, the gives outweigh the takes of the profession.

Hartleb knows staying focused is the answer to moving forward. He has been back with the Illini for a week and has coached them through four games.

His father would have wanted it this way. His mother knows it’s where he belongs.

And as few know, it’s all just a challenge of the profession.

“When you’re involved in athletics at this level, your family gives up a lot. And over time, they understand,” he said.  “It’s just part of what we do.”

J.J. can be reached at [email protected] and @Wilsonable07.

*Correction: A previous version of this story incorrectly stated Eric Snider’s wife gave birth to triplets 26 weeks premature. She was 26 weeks into her pregnancy when the triplets were born. The Daily Illini regrets this error.