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That laugh.

If you ever heard Mike Schambach laugh, even once, you remember it. He smiled often, a wide grin splashed above his dimpled chin, but when you really got him going, he’d break out into this sort of slow, high-pitched cackle that would inevitably get everyone else cracking up, too.

And for all the passion and love Schambach brought to everything in life, simply being with his friends and family, telling stories and sharing a good laugh were probably what he loved doing best of all.

The lacrosse community and the world at large lost a special person June 14, when Schambach, 38, passed away after a nearly yearlong bout with colon cancer. Fighting until the end, he had just completed his fourth season as the head men’s lacrosse coach at Division III Montclair State in New Jersey.

Schambach loved the sport. He was a fierce competitor both as a player and as a coach. But of all the great things he did in and for the game, it was how he treated people that will be remembered most.

“It didn’t matter who you were, he always took the time to talk to everybody and really appreciated people and life,” said Shane Carmody, Schambach’s assistant at MSU. “He brought so many different people together. He didn’t care about anything besides the quality of person that you were. Some of his favorite players ever were the worst lacrosse players, but they were just good people that he could connect with. His thing was, ‘Good people come before good players,’ and that was kind of how he started to build the program at Montclair.”

PHOTO COURTESY OF THE SCHAMBACH FAMILY

Schambach, who grew up and played high school lacrosse in Bridgewater, N.J., starred as a faceoff specialist at Rutgers and immediately launched into a successful coaching career. But most of all, he loved being with friends and family, telling stories and sharing a good laugh.

It’s no coincidence that wherever Schambach went, success soon followed. But he would tell you those victories were nothing compared to the relationships he built along the way, starting with the day he was born.

Mike and Phil Schambach were born Jan. 21, 1980, in Plainfield, N.J. They grew up in Bridgewater, displaying their natural athletic abilities even before they learned to walk. When their father, Charlie, installed mesh netting atop their crib to try to keep them contained, the identical twins worked together to undo the latch and escape.

Growing up, they had a passion for soccer and ice hockey, but by the time they got to high school, those were just sports to help pass the time until lacrosse season, when their competitive nature took over.

“The two of them were inseparable, but they also fought like cats and dogs,” said Chuck Apel, who will coach his 40th season at Bridgewater-Raritan High School next spring. “They came to practice a couple times still fighting, and I had to talk them out of it. When they were freshmen, the freshman coach, MG Hollingsworth, would tell me they’d have a fistfight like once a day. That’s how Phil got to be an attackman. They were so competitive and so evenly matched, we had to separate them by position so they wouldn’t kill each other.

“But if somebody else came after one of them, the other one was right there. They loved each other unbelievably.”

For Mike Schambach, friends were treated like family, even from a young age, and to be able to compete and battle alongside them was a true gift. He and Guy Budinscak met at a birthday party and soon became best friends, building rock walls in the backyard, racing bikes or constructing the most unsafe tree house in the neighborhood. As young boys, the two vowed that they would win a state title in lacrosse together. In 1997, as juniors, they came within two wins of that goal, but that team graduated seven starters, including All-Americans Kevin Buchan and Brian LaMastro. No one quite knew what to expect in 1998.

As the ’98 season loomed, Schambach set the tone. The first-team faceoff guy, he practiced hard every day, he was never late, and he took drills seriously. Following that lead, the Panthers went undefeated in the regular season, then grinded out three playoff victories to reach the state title game against Mountain Lakes.

Schambach’s childhood dream of winning a title was one win away. But on June 6, 1998 — the biggest day of his life up to that point — he woke up in absolute misery.

Beset by flu-like symptoms and wracked with a high fever, Schambach insisted his mother, Elizabeth, take him to the doctor because he refused to miss the game. After receiving a prednisone injection for inflamed lungs, his mother drove him straight to the BRHS field house. Still recovering from the ordeal, he changed into his No. 19 uniform, put Twisted Sister’s “We’re Not Gonna Take It” on repeat, and got into game mode.

As he had done all year against the best teams in the state, Schambach dominated. His late first-quarter goal broke a 1-1 tie, and the Panthers never looked back. A 10-4 win capped a 19-0 season and gave BRHS its first state title.

In The Courier-News the next day, his teammates sung his praises. “After [Mountain Lakes] scored the first goal, I wasn’t that nervous,” said defenseman Justin Byrne. “I knew the offense would take care of it, especially with Mike Schambach on faceoffs.”

“Mike Schambach is amazing,” said attackman Ryan Eichner, who scored a game-high four goals. “He’s one of the best midfielders in the country. For the past few years, he’s been winning every [faceoff], and that was definitely the key. We got possession a lot.”

While his teammates whooped it up and posed for pictures, Schambach eschewed the spotlight, content to chomp down on a victory cigar and bask in the feeling of accomplishing something that had never been done before. It wouldn’t be the last time. And yet, it was never the trophy or the glory that meant the most to Mike.

“I can remember how proud Mike was and how well he played — it was an incredible day — but Mike would have told you that winning the tournament was not his greatest achievement,” Phil Schambach said during the eulogy for his brother. “Even at that time, the friendships he forged and the lifelong bonds with the Bridgewater lacrosse community would have still won out over winning the first state championship.”

PHOTO COURTESY OF GUY BUDINSCAK

Phil Schambach (22), Guy Budinscak (7) and Mike Schambach (19) chomp down on celebratory cigars after leading Bridgewater-Raritan (N.J.) to a state championship in 1998. Budinscak — who would become a Navy SEAL and serve in Iraq — had a tight bond with Mike from the time they were 5 and could always count on his friend to help him readjust to civilian life upon returning from war.

PHOTO COURTESY OF THE SCHAMBACH FAMILY

Mike, left, and Phil Schambach, identical twins, were inseparable.

“The twins,” as they were often referred to, were so close that if you asked Phil how he was doing that summer after high school, he’d say, “We’re great. We’re heading to Rutgers in the fall.”

Recruited to play for longtime head coach Tom Hayes, the Schambachs arrived On the Banks in 1998 at the beginning of a somewhat tumultuous time at RU. Hayes retired in 2000 after 27 seasons, and his successor, Bill Dirrigl, bolted after just one year. Still, the Schambachs loved it there, living in a typical off-campus house on High Street and taking part in all that Rutgers had to offer.

They started to form their own separate identities in college, with Mike taking time off to live with their sister, Mary, in Colorado in 2001. When Schambach returned to New Jersey, Jim Stagnitta had taken over as head coach, and Mike’s competitive drive kicked back into high gear. Rutgers hadn’t been to the NCAA tournament since 1991, and he was going to do everything in his power to end the drought.

“His motor never stopped going,” said Brandon Jones, a fellow midfielder who saw Schambach evolve into one of the nation’s top faceoff men. “If he didn’t win the draw, he would go full speed until either he got the ball back or got an opportunity to get it back on defense. He never stopped moving — full speed, all the time — but he was always smiling, too. He’d be completely exhausted, come off the field, and be joking with the other guys on the sideline. He always had fun doing it.”

Even in the heat of competition, Schambach’s good-natured sense never faded. There was the time he was about to run onto the field, but when he went to put his mouthpiece in, it didn’t fit. So Schambach quickly removed his fake front tooth — the result of a “freak sleigh riding accident” in high school — handed it to the coach, popped the mouthpiece in and made a beeline onto the field.

“Stuff like that was almost common,” Jones said.

After a 2-12 season under Stagnitta in 2002, the Scarlet Knights started 8-1 in 2003. Schambach and his teammates talked about needing to win the big game if they wanted to make the postseason, and they did — twice — winning at No. 4 Syracuse and toppling No. 3 UMass in the regular-season finale to capture the ECAC crown and secure an NCAA tournament bid.

Once again, Schambach had ended a chapter in his lacrosse career on a high note. But you would not have heard about it from him.

“He was such a tough competitor, but off the field, he was quiet; humble,” Jones said. “He left it all on the field, but immediately afterward, whether you won or lost, he was smiling because he knew he did everything he could possibly do to win. And if we didn’t win, well, he was all right with that, too. He’d be joking with you and laughing and having a good time.

“His laugh — you could hear it, and can kind of hear it still.”

PHOTO COURTESY OF THE SCHAMBACH FAMILY

Schambach was a four-time letter winner at Rutgers, helping the Scarlet Knights end a 12-year NCAA tournament drought in 2003 as the team’s top faceoff man. As much of a competitor as he was, Schambach is equally remembered for the joy he played with and the levity he brought to the sidelines.

Andrew Monahan will surely receive bigger paychecks in his career, but there’s something special about seeing that first one.

Having graduated from Montclair State in May, Monahan had recently begun working as a sales consultant for HomeAdvisor. When he got that first check, he did something memorable with it. He donated all of it to a GoFundMe page set up to help support the Schambach family.

“I know he would absolutely do something like that for me in a time of need,” Monahan said.

Monahan came to MSU in the fall of 2014 as part of an incoming class of 13 lacrosse players. By the time he finished his sophomore year, that number was down to two — Monahan and defenseman Luke Nealon. They stayed through the departure of the coach who recruited them and the several wayward months that followed until the Red Hawks named Schambach the ninth head coach in program history.

Schambach had begun his coaching career as an assistant at Fairleigh Dickinson in Florham Park, N.J., where he helped the Devils end a 28-year NCAA tournament drought by capturing the 2009 MAC championship. In 2012, Schambach got his first head coaching job, at another MAC school, DeSales. He spent three years in Center Valley, Pa., taking the Bulldogs to two postseason appearances and the first playoff victory in program history — a four-overtime thriller against King’s College on April 29, 2014.

That same month, Mike and his wife, Lindsay, welcomed their first child, Cameron Joseph, into the world, and in the days that followed, that infectious smile couldn’t be wiped from the proud papa’s face. When the opportunity presented itself later that same year to take the reins at MSU, “It was one of the hardest decisions Mike ever had to make,” said Phil Schambach. “He loved those kids at DeSales and had an incredible bond with them.” Ultimately, the chance to be closer to his family’s home in Raritan, N.J., swayed him to make the move to Montclair.

The program at MSU was well-established, but Schambach had a vision of building it into a national contender. He came in “guns blazing,” putting together the toughest schedule he could, recruiting tirelessly and spending countless hours coming up with game plans, scouting reports and practice plans.

“He wanted to win a national championship, and every move he made was trying to build toward that,” said Carmody, who won back-to-back state titles under Apel as a defenseman at BRHS in 2011 and 2012. “It was kind of something that he was obsessed with.”

In just his second season, Schambach led the Red Hawks to their biggest win in school history — a 10-7 win at Keene State in the first round of the 2016 NCAA tournament. As the giddy players celebrated MSU’s first-ever NCAA victory in the locker room afterward, Schambach quietly stepped outside and called Lindsay to share news of the victory.

When the Red Hawks boarded the bus for the long ride back to New Jersey, Schambach was already game-planning for their next opponent: No. 1 Ithaca three days later. Although MSU would fall 11-8, the Red Hawks took the top-ranked team in the country down to the wire in an NCAA tournament game on the road.

“That’s a huge credit to Coach Schambach,” Monahan said. “He was able to scout and really give us an excellent game plan going into games that we probably shouldn’t have been in and games we probably shouldn’t have won.”

PHOTO COURTESY OF JOE KAYE

Schambach had a vision of turning Montclair State into a national contender. He remained committed to that vision through his illness. Unless he was under anesthesia and it was physically impossible for him to be on campus, Schambach never missed so much as a meeting.

When recruiting, Schambach sought to bring in the type of players that would help foster a family atmosphere at Montclair. He viewed his players as an extension of his own family and stressed to them the importance of being good people off the field, getting good grades, getting involved in the community and treating women right. He wanted them to become good fathers and good role models, not just good lacrosse players.

And when it came to his own family, which he was more proud of than anything, Schambach couldn’t help but take his sunny disposition up another notch. After every game at MSU, win or lose, Mike would smile from ear to ear as Cam ran out onto the field and took up his perch atop dad’s shoulders.

“Mike was a very passionate guy; he loved everything that he did,” Carmody said. “He was always a positive, happy, upbeat guy. But when he would talk about Lindsay and Cam and, most recently, Chloe, it just went to a different level. He took such joy in being a father, and family was always first for him. Lindsay really was the love of his life, and he would always talk to the guys about respecting women, saying, ‘You’re going to marry your best friend,’ which is what he did. He was so thankful that she was so understanding of what the coaching lifestyle is like.

“This season was tough, but he did spend a lot of time with his family, and as the disease took over, that’s kind of all he did: coach lacrosse and be there for his family at Montclair, then go right home and be there for his family there.”

PHOTO COURTESY OF SCHAMBACH FAMILY

Schambach held on long enough for the birth and baptism of his daughter, Chloe, who was born May 7.

Even as their paths diverged after high school, Schambach and Budinscak remained close. Weekend trips to visit Mike at Rutgers were a welcome respite from the rigors of plebe life at the Naval Academy in Annapolis, Md. When Budinscak finished his Navy SEAL training, Schambach went to Southern California for his graduation. Budinscak soon deployed to Iraq with the West Coast SEAL Team 3 of American Sniper fame, and when he would return to Coronado and find himself alone with the memories of war, he could always count on his friend to make the cross-country trip and help things start to feel normal again.

They had been there for each other during all of life’s major events — weddings, graduations, celebrations. During the summer of 2017, when their families were vacationing together at the Jersey Shore, Budinscak couldn’t have imagined he’d be there for another one.

Schambach complained about a pain in his stomach, saying that he felt like he had swallowed a chicken bone. Budinscak’s natural reaction was to joke around with him.

Jeez, Mike, how fast do you eat chicken? Lindsay, does he just inhale it?

But when a few days went by and he wasn’t feeling any better, Schambach checked himself into Ocean County Medical Center. There, doctors discovered an obstruction and, after a quick scan, delivered the grim prognosis: likely colon cancer.

With his wife by his side, Schambach was immediately transported to New York City’s Weill Cornell, where he saw the top gastro-intestinal oncology team in the country. After surgery and a biopsy, he was told he had Stage 4 colon cancer and that it had already metastasized to his lymph nodes. 

In typical Schambach fashion, he didn’t want anyone to worry about him, so he kept the news mostly to himself. With the few loved ones with whom he did discuss it, he remained fiercely positive. Not beating it was never an option.

“He just wouldn’t let us talk about it,” Apel said. “Once in a while he’d stop by practice, and we would ask him how he was doing. ‘Yeah, I’m fine.’ That was our cue to just talk about lacrosse.”

“He never would let you talk about that option — the option that ‘I don’t survive this thing,’” Budinscak said. “Even when he told me, ‘Hey, the chemo’s not working, I’m going to go off it,’ in the next sentence, we’re talking about recruiting for next year, and he’s like, ‘I got this really good faceoff middie. I hope he doesn’t balk about coming to Montclair now that he hears I’m sick.’”

Carmody kept waiting for Schambach to lean more heavily on his assistant, but it never happened. Unless he was under anesthesia and it was physically impossible for him to be on campus, Schambach never missed so much as a meeting. In February, after the news that the cancer had spread again, Schambach told his wife, “If I only have a little time left, I want to spend every second with my guys on the field, and in my home with you and Cam.” 

“You can ask our guys — our practices ran long this year,” Carmody said. “Because when he was out on that field coaching, he was feeling no pain. He was just living in the moment, and it really took his mind off things.”

In the final year of his life, Schambach allowed himself the opportunity to do many of the things he always longed to do. He checked out the music scene in Austin, Texas, with his closest friends. He and Lindsay went to Sedona, Arizona, and hiked the desert at sunrise and sunset. He and Phil finally made it to England to watch a soccer game, like they had always talked about. And on May 7, Mike beamed with pride as he held his newborn daughter, Chloe Michelle.

“I know that our children are the reason you fought as hard as you did,” Lindsay wrote in a touching tribute on Facebook after Mike’s death June 14. She promised that his presence would always be felt by their children, and that, “While we all wish that we had more time together as a family, your spirit and kindness and strength will live on always in the family you’ve created, in both Chloe and Cameron, and in our larger family, of everyone who thinks of you as a brother.”

Through it all, Schambach never complained about being sick.

“I just think he didn’t want his time spent with his friends worrying about something he couldn’t fix,” Budinscak said. “He was just incredibly brave about it. I’ve had the opportunity to serve with some of the bravest men in the world, and I could tell you that Mike Schambach is one of the bravest men I’ve ever seen — the rival of any of them. And as far as handling death, he was the bravest. Right to the end, he was trying to do right by his family.”

It’s telling that, 20 years later, Schambach’s 1998 teammates scarcely recall his mystery illness on the day of the title game. Most athletes would relish retelling a personal “Jordan Flu Game” story like that, embellishing the details just a little bit more with each passing year, but not Mike. “I honestly don’t even remember that,” said Matt Cordivari, who had a goal and an assist in the game.

On June 3 of this year, a host of former Panthers lacrosse players returned to Bridgewater for the annual alumni game. The event raises money for the Michael Bruce Foundation and generally draws a couple dozen guys who live nearby. This year’s game drew almost 80 players from as far away as Idaho, including the entire ’98 team.

“Mostly because of Mike,” Cordivari said.

By that point, Schambach’s cancer had taken over his body, and word had gotten around that he wasn’t doing well. He had been hospitalized due to pain the Friday before the alumni game, but as he had done when he fell ill in Austin, he convinced the medical staff that he needed to be discharged. “Look,” his doctor told him, “if you weren’t so set on going to this thing, I wouldn’t release you. But I know you are, so I’m going to let you go.”

Released just 45 minutes before game time, Schambach dashed straight to the field at BRHS. He was too sick to play, but when his name was announced over the public address system, Schambach ran out onto the field and stood alongside his ’98 teammates, smiling as he waited for the attention to turn toward someone else. He coached the younger alumni and chatted up his lacrosse buddies on the sideline during the game, and when it was over, the whole group made its way over to former Rutgers standout Aaron Kurdyla’s house for a barbecue.

When the skies opened up around 9 p.m., a bunch of guys headed home. The ’98 team didn’t want the night to end, though. They grabbed whatever chairs they could find and set them up in a circle in Kurdyla’s garage, telling story after story about the old days deep into the night. And right there with them until the very end, soaking up every minute of it, was Schambach.

“I’m really grateful that he had that day because once the doctors got the pain under control, he was Mike again,” Budinscak said. “That laugh of his echoed for like two hours.”

After Schambach’s death 11 days later — the same day that Montclair was named the Division III coaching staff of the year — the New Jersey lacrosse community figuratively pulled its chairs in a circle to tell stories about Mike. There was the time a friend showed up with a pair of Phish tickets but couldn’t convince Schambach to go because he had already promised a neighborhood kid that he would have a catch with him. There was the story of the youth lacrosse player, the son of his wife’s friend, who so admired him that he asked his parents if he could change his last name to Schambach.

On and on it went. Everyone who met Schambach had a story — and they all loved him.

As it became evident that no funeral home in the state could handle the multitudes who wanted to pay their respects, Msgr. Seamus F. Brennan and the Immaculate Conception Church in Somerville opened their doors, telling the family, “The church is there for you.” And on a day when the temperature soared above 90 degrees, some 3,000 mourners stood along Mountain Avenue before winding their way into the church, where portraits of Schambach, as a coach and as a father, flanked a closed casket. Photo collages displayed along the route captured his essence: Smiling broadly while holding up a fish he had caught — which was no bigger than his hand. The look of satisfaction in his eye after having won a state championship. The pure joy he radiated as he held his newborn son. Unless it was a newspaper clipping about him and Phil, good luck finding a photo where he was in the middle.

In the center of one of the collages was a quote: “A good life leaves behind seeds that keep on growing.” By that measure, Schambach planted a national forest. In the countless lives he touched, the goodwill he spread and the example he set as a father, husband, friend and mentor, Mike Schambach left a legacy that will live forever.

A celebration of Schambach’s life will be held Friday, June 29, in Bridgewater, N.J. To purchase tickets or support the family with a donation, visit whoozin.com/schambachstrong.