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LOS ANGELES -- Tom Nickoloff, a receiver who played on Southern Californias 10-1 team that beat Wisconsin in the 1953 Rose Bowl, has died. He was 84.The university said Wednesday that Nickoloff died on Oct. 23 of complications from Alzheimers disease in Woodland Hills.Nickoloff was captain of the 1953 USC football team that defeated the Badgers 7-0 in the Rose Bowl game. He had seven catches for 73 yards in the win.He led the Trojans in receiving in 1952 and 53. Nickoloff caught 25 passes and had three touchdowns as a junior. All of his scoring catches that season came in the game against Stanford. As a senior, he had 15 catches and two touchdowns. He played in the 1954 Hula Bowl and East-West Shrine Game before being a third-round pick of the Los Angeles Rams in 1954.However, he never played in the NFL because of injuries sustained in a car accident.Nickoloff went on to work as a civil defense attorney.He is survived by Betty, his wife of 59 years, and children Tim, Kevin and Laurie.---This story has been corrected to show that all of Nickoloffs scoring catches in his junior year came against Stanford, not all of his catches. Charles Mann Jersey . Bryzgalov stopped 25 shots on Saturday in the Oklahoma City Barons 4-1 victory over the Abbotsford Heat. The Oilers signed Bryzgalov to a one-year $2 million contract last Friday after shedding payroll by dealing defenceman Ladislav Smid to the Flames. Dexter Manley Womens Jersey . 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In October, espnWs weekly essay series will focus on heroes.Even as a high school athlete, my father, Hannibal Ware, was known for his long shooting range. He and his youngest brother, James, were a fearless duo on the court. In Lexington, Kentucky, the two lanky teenagers were known as the Ware boys.In 1968, my father played collegiate hoops at the University of the Virgin Islands. When I was a kid in grade school, he loved telling me stories about those days as a young hoops star. An opponent once yelled out, Dont let the Yankee shoot! according to my father.My father could tell a story better than anyone I have ever met. And to this day, I can still see his lean brown form standing in my grandmothers living room reenacting his winning jump shot.I remember watching him stand behind the 3-point line on our neighborhood basketball court. He made so many baskets in a row, it felt like magic. He loved perfecting his basketball skills.He never made it to the pros, but he imparted his basketball knowledge to my sister, Saneda, and me. Be aggressive when going inside, he told me. Dont play with fear.In high school, I wore a jersey emblazoned with his number -- 14. Maybe, I thought, it would bring me luck. Or maybe I was just proud to wear the same number as a superstar. I was a pretty good player. Like him, I had a consistent jump shot of my own and was one of the star players on the Bryan Station Middle Schools Bearcats. I am very proud that both my father and I were part of teams that won championships for Bryan Station.Even though I chose not to continue my basketball career after middle school, I still feel proud knowing that I shared such an important interest with him. Basketball will always remind me of the special moments that connected us.But in my second year of college, I received a terrible shock. My fatheer was diagnosed with throat cancer.dddddddddddd What started off as a tiny bump on his neck gradually grew into a large tumor.My father was stubborn and unwilling to go for a checkup. My grandmother, sister and I watched as he slowly deteriorated. He began to forget little things. He was aware of his decline. I could see the fear on my fathers face at times. It was difficult watching my?hero meet his kryptonite. He spoke as if he would beat cancer, but deep down I believe he knew his fate.During the last stages of his illness, I dropped out of school. The stress of witnessing my fathers illness left me in a dark place. I remember lying to my uncle about still being enrolled at the University of Kentucky. I was too ashamed to say that I had failed.I watched my Dad -- my first love -- wither away in a nursing home. I saw the light fading from his large almond eyes and I knew that he was leaving me. He would stare off into space, listening to R&B. In his last days he seemed to find some peace listening to slow music. I can still see him breathing, gasping for air.My life will forever be changed by these events. I will always have the special moments we shared to bring me joy. His love for his children and basketball taught me compassion and commitment. Eventually, I found the strength to go back to school and graduate with a masters degree in social work.So Daddy, thank you for the wonderful moments we shared. Thank you for your kind heart and your dedication to others. Thank you for being my first love and my first encounter with a real-life superhero.Ebonie Ware is a writer based in Kentucky. She started the blog Ware Im Coming From.?Follow her on Instagram?for?inspirational nuggets.? ' ' '