'The most Lancer' of all: 1986 grad Ward Kline has served as LHS team manager for almost 40 years

Dec. 3—Around 4 p.m. Friday this season, Rick Conner rolls into the circular driveway of the only man with a deeper connection to the Linganore High School football team than him.

After summoning just about all of the strength he has for the day, 54-year-old Ward Kline, Class of 1986, climbs into the car.

For the next 10 minutes or so, the two men chat about the subject they are each most passionate about on their short drive to the school.

"Usually, he's into, 'Coach, are we ready? How is practice going this week?'" said Conner, the school's varsity football coach of the last 20 years.

Not that long ago, Kline wouldn't have needed to ask.

He's been a constant fixture around the Linganore football program for almost 40 years, proudly serving on the staff for three different head coaches. Generations of players have grown fond of him, stopping to say hello whenever they see him. And when the team holds its banquet at the end of every season, the biggest round of applause is usually reserved for Kline, Conner said.

Kline has been on the sideline for all 13 of Linganore's prior appearances in a state football final, and, barring any setbacks, will be again Saturday night in Annapolis when the Lancers take aim at their seventh championship against Northern-Calvert at Navy-Marine Corps Memorial Stadium.

In 1983, when Kline was a sophomore at Linganore, Dave Carruthers, who was the football coach at the time, offered him a position as the team manager. He would handle the equipment, fixing helmets and shoulder pads when issues arose, and a lot of the important-but-overlooked sideline tasks, such as making sure there was enough first-aid and water for everyone.

Kline said he was humbled by the opportunity. Carruthers was his gym teacher and a well-respected football coach. When the offer was made, Kline was happy to accept.

"I always loved football," he said. "It would give me something to do."

Over the next four decades, Kline could never bring himself to give up the job. He loved being around the team too much, and the work he performed was too important. No one did it better. To this day, whenever there is an equipment issue with Linganore football, Kline takes care of it, though not the extent that he once did.

Conner summed it up perfectly when he said, "Of all the Lancers in the world, [Kline] might be the most Lancer."

However, severe health complications have jeopardized Kline's connection to the program. He's only missed one game this fall. But being on the sideline every week requires just about everything he's got.

In February 2020, right at the onset of the pandemic, Kline was diagnosed with pancreatic cancer. The tumor was inoperable. So, over the last 22 months, he has been enduring regular rounds of chemotherapy that sap his energy and strength.

When Kline gets home from games late Friday night, he often collapses into a chair or onto his bed.

But he pays the price because it would be more painful to him to miss the games.

"It's like his passion, the only thing that excites him," his wife, Shari, said. " ... When we started dating, he made it perfectly clear that Friday-night dates in the fall were off."

Last February, a year after Kline's diagnosis, a major complication arose. He was diagnosed with paraneoplastic limbic encephalitis, a rare disorder that affects cancer patients and is characterized by cancer-fighting agents of the immune system attacking parts of the brain, spinal cord and peripheral nerves and muscles.

Symptoms include inflammation around the brain, which can lead to memory loss, irritability, depression, seizures and sometimes dementia. Kline has experienced some issues with his speech, according to his wife.

The secondary diagnosis brought Kline's life to a virtual standstill. He was forced to give up his job of 36 years with Giant Food, and he could no longer drive.

"To me, the whole thing was a game-changer," Kline said. "I went from having a lot of energy, working a full-time job, helping out football to going to almost a dead-stop ... There are days, and there still are days, where I'll walk [the family dog] Remy, and that alone wears me out."

Kline was forced to miss the shortened spring football season because the pandemic still posed too much of a threat to his immunocompromised status. So, he sat at home and watched the game on YouTube.

He can't attend practices like he used to. But the only game he has missed this fall, home or away, was the Lancers' 42-7 victory at Westminster on Sept. 10.

When Conner learned that Kline could no longer drive, he offered to give him a ride to school. Once there, he would stay for the game, killing idle time by chatting and trading old stories with the coaches and players, or hop on the team bus for road games.

It was the only way that Kline's longtime connection to the program was going to stay intact. Shari did not get home from work early enough on Fridays to give him a lift, and Kline could no longer get himself there. He admitted to driving twice, against the orders of his doctors and his family, and was sternly admonished by his wife.

That's when Conner decided to step in.

"To be honest with you, he saved me when I first got here," Conner said of Kline. "I didn't know where anything was. He knew where everything was. Pregame, he got everything organized. He knew what we needed. When we were down low on something, he'd be like, 'Coach, we need this.' Or, 'We need that.' He made my transition over here much easier than it would have been otherwise."

When Carruthers left Linganore after the 1994 season to coach at Urbana, he wanted Kline to join him. But Kline's loyalty to his alma mater did not allow him to make the move.

Conner sometimes jokes that he is going to fire everyone except for Kline. Or he'll say at the team banquet that when Kline steps away, he will as well.

"When he is not here, my job is going to be a lot harder," Conner said.

Kline is often asked how much longer he will stay with the team, particularly with his health deteriorating, and his response is: "I can't honestly answer that."

When asked why he still does the job and why he never gave it up, he says, "I just love it."

The best perspective on what the future holds for Kline and Linganore football might come from his wife.

"He told me that he doesn't care if he can't walk anymore, he's taking [the team's] golf cart around," Shari said. "As long as he is down there on the field and can feel a part of it, he's going to do it until he physically can't anymore."

Follow Greg Swatek on Twitter: @greg_swatek