Hillsborough's Burgener Cueing Up Success

Pool Player Battling Disease to be the Best

By Ryan Dunleavy
Special to EpilepsyUSA
Posted: August 3, 2006

On this night, The Silent Assassin's 6-foot-4 frame hangs over the pool table in his basement.

A quick glance around the basement tell a lot about the man -- from the list of pool house rules taped on the wall, to the fix-it tools spread around the floor, to the wheelchair peering out of the closet.

As he places the billiard balls in his top of the line Sardo M 3000 rack, it is clear 17-year-old Bradley Burgener of Hillsborough could talk pool for hours. Even as he practices an array of trick shots, the conversation sways to his dreams of hustling other players.

He wants to earn a sponsorship. He wants to be a professional pool player by age 30. He wants to start his own custom cue business.

Most of all, though, he wants to win.

As Heidi Burgener, Brad's mother, says, "The Burgener way is to win."

Of course, most of Brad's words might remain just dreams. While he undoubtedly is a talented young pool player, there are many roadblocks in the way of Brad's aspirations.

Unknown to anyone watching from afar, Brad has been battling seizures, spasms and blurred vision -- the effects of a rare genetic disease -- the entire time he has been showing off.

The story is the same almost anytime, anywhere. Two days later at Paradise Billiards in Franklin Township is no exception.

All the Wednesday afternoon regulars are there -- Gene the Machine, Tony, Jimmy, Deadeye and Burgener, the kid they dubbed The Silent Assassin when he started frequenting the billiard hall almost two years ago.

Brad is a 9-ball aficionado who has found a home at pool halls such as Paradise Billiards, where players are not judged by age or appearance -- just ability.

And that is one thing Brad's disease has not yet stripped away.

The Disease

When he was 11 years old and living in Chicago, Brad Burgener was diagnosed with mitochondrial myopathy disease, a condition related to Alzheimer's disease and multiple sclerosis.

According to the United Mitochondrial Disease Foundation Web site (umdf.org), mitochondrial diseases result from failures of the mitochondria, compartments present in every cell except red blood cells.

Mitochondria are responsible for more than 90 percent of the energy needed to sustain life and support growth. When they fail, less energy is generated within the cell. Cell injury and even cell death follow. If this happens throughout the entire body, a person can die.

Brad, a second-year student at Matheny School and Hospital in Peapack, has a much less technical definition for the condition that is slowly robbing him of his favorite activities.

"It takes away energy," he said. "It (pool) is indoors with air conditioning. That kind of thing. It is basically the only (sport) I can do."

That is what makes the high level at which he performs so remarkable.

Brad has been to the Billiard Congress of America Junior National 9-ball Championships twice in the past three years.

In 2003, he finished in the 33rd-46th range of the 14 & under open bracket, and this past summer, he finished in the 49th-64th range of the boys 18 & under bracket.

In the 2004-05 pool year, he finished in the top 10 in his class for player of the year honors on the Tri-State Tour.

But there was a time not too long ago when pool did not mean nearly as much to Brad as it does now.

Before, it was just one of many things at which he excelled. But because of his condition, that no longer is the case.

"It defines him because he is losing everything else," Heidi explained. "He has gone from an all-star baseball player to losing his vision. He's the boss of the pool game."

The severity of mitochondrial disease in an individual is directly related to the number of infected cells and where they are located in the body. Because of that, no two cases are exactly the same -- despite the genetic link.

For example, both Heidi and Brad's sister, Amy, recently were diagnosed with mitochondrial disease, but neither has symptoms to the same degree as Brad.

Brad, who suffers from dementia and short-term memory loss, is the person he is today partly because the disease attacked his brain first.

Eleven years ago, on the first day of first grade, Brad suffered a grand mal seizure and shortly thereafter was diagnosed with epilepsy.

Still, the Burgeners struggled for the next five years, knowing there had to be something more to Brad's condition. Finally, after traveling from Chicago to a special clinic in Cleveland, they got their answer.

"We knew something was wrong, but we couldn't figure it out. So there was sort of a peace about it," Heidi said of learning about Brad's disease. "Almost like you have arrived at a destination but you would rather be in Hawaii. But this was a definite final stop. We know what we know, now let's learn more about it."

During the past six years, the Burgeners have devoted countless hours to learning about the condition that runs on the maternal side of their family. That includes Brad, who has suffered three strokes and -- as a result -- has had to adjust to a very different lifestyle.

The boy who once spent his afternoons playing baseball and football has become an electronics guru, a computer-savvy Google extraordinaire and an ardent pool player.

He practices pool for nearly four hours each night -- 2 1/2 hours before dinner, 1 1/2 hours after dinner -- all with thoughts of next year's Junior Nationals in Arizona running through his mind.

Some professionals refer to this type of positive long-term goal as "forward thinking." Brad knows better. He knows it is just the next step in his plan to become a sponsored professional.

"I have passion in it," he said of pool while quickly glancing at the bowling ball sitting on the floor. "Bowling I do because its fun. Pool comes from my heart. I really love it. Hopefully, I will go to Arizona this year."

How It Started

Brad remembers the moment like it was yesterday.

He was in the basement at his grandfather's house in Chicago when his father and some friends told him to go upstairs because it was their turn to use the pool table.

It was an innocent comment, surely, but even as a 6-year-old novice, Brad felt slighted. So he did the only thing he has known -- he made himself better.

"In every sport I've learned you've got to push," Brad said. "Push, push, push. If you're supposed to practice three hours, I want to practice five."

Now, by his own admission, Brad's father, Randy, has to work hard just to beat his son. And even then it is no gimme.

It has been 11 years since that moment, but that same internal drive Brad displayed as a young boy still fuels him.

Take a moment to imagine stepping to the free-throw line with a basketball game's outcome hanging in the balance and seeing a blurry basket. Or standing in the batter's box with two outs in the ninth inning and not being able to distinguish the baseball being hurled your way.

On a technical basis, Brad has outstanding eyesight (20/15). Try telling that to him when he stares down at the pool table and never is absolutely sure what is staring back at him.

Sometimes the balls are blurry. Other times they are not. His vision problems come and go without warning, and they are not viewed as a legitimate excuse come tournament time.

"Sometimes my eyes get blurry. I still play pool, though," Brad said proudly. "It's just a blurry vision. I see the ball and I see everything. It's a thing I've gotten used to. I've won matches with blurry vision.

"If you think of it when you go to shoot a shot, you will miss. When I'm playing with you (in a relaxed atmosphere), I'm just shooting balls. When I'm in tournament playing for $2000, it's a bit different. But I just focus. It's taken me two years to seriously do that. If you clear your mind, you can do almost anything. That applies to any sport."

Heidi has a different way of describing what her son faces on a daily basis.

"I would call it living hell," she said.

Who He Is

In the car en route to Brad's regular Wednesday afternoon venture to Paradise Billiards, he is carelessly throwing around fast facts and sports trivia.

He is a Denver Broncos fan who adores John Elway. But Brad's admiration for the famed quarterback is not a result of his two Super Bowl rings or penchant for the fourth-quarter comeback.

Brad's favorite athletes are guys such as Elway, former Buffalo Bills quarterback Jim Kelly and St. Louis Cardinals first baseman Albert Pujols -- players known for volunteering their time to a good cause.

"They do a lot," Brad said. "Someone (like Pujols) who hits 50 home runs a year and is swarmed by fans, and they give time other than just autographing."

Such insightful comments blindly fly out of Brad's mouth. Because his brain has been affected, Brad's conversation topics shift from second to second, often with no transition between them.

On the surface, they sound out of place. On a deeper level, they reflect Brad's grounded personality.

Grounded is the way Brad must be in order to cope with his condition. It also is the reason he can talk about painful things with a poignant openness.

Before starting at the Matheny School less than two years ago, Brad attended public school in Hillsborough, where he struggled to complete the physical education requirements.

On family vacations, he is restricted to a scooter.

In the teenage world, both situations are recipes for disaster. Even when just hanging out with his friends, hurtful words sometimes are inevitable.

"I came home mad," Brad said of a recent such incident. "But I realize he (a friend) doesn't understand. If he knew, he would not do that."

Brad is the only student with mitochondrial disease at Matheny, which serves students with a wide range of disabilities.

"He is a good kid with good intentions," said Brad's teacher, Jim Hitenock. "He is well-versed in a lot of different subjects."

None more so than pool.

"When he goes to a tournament, he will continue to talk about it and, at times, you cannot get him to stop," Hitenock laughed. "We try to find the interest of a student and make the basis of learning about that."

That often leaves Hitenock reading writing assignments from Brad about his recent experiences in pool.

"Day in and day out, our students wake up with a disability," Hitenock said. "The ability to have a passion for something like that gets them out of bed every morning and is nothing but a positive."

What Keeps Brad Going

The 25-minute car ride from Brad's home to Paradise Billiards has just ended, with Brad feeling content. Ne has adequately discussed all his favorite topics.

Now, the most anticipated part of every week is about to begin.

He walks into the pool hall to the welcoming sight of familiar faces.

Brad lumbers over to an unoccupied table and pridefully begins undressing his fancy cues -- part of a wish granted to him by the Marty Lyons Foundation.

Games of 9-ball soon follow, and friendly talk fills the downtime. But once the re-racked balls start banging off one another, seriousness takes over.

After all, the Burgener way is to win. And right now, Brad is winning the fight of his life.

Editor's note: Ryan Dunleavy is a writer for the Courier News.

Copyright 2005 Courier News. Reprinted with permission. All rights reserved.