Major Victory

The ER doctor closed the door, and that’s when Mark Hoffman knew the news wasn't good. "They don't close the door to tell you anything good," he remembers thinking. Hoffman had gone to the hospital after experiencing severe stomach pain, but he wasn't prepared for the news the doctor was about to deliver.

"I don't know how to say this,” the doctor said, “but there is a tumor in your colon."

And thus began a 42-month ordeal, a story of trepidation and triumph, a story that culminated with Hoffman playing in his first PGA Tour event this month at the Canadian Open. You think Ryan Fox’s sudden-death victory was special? Wait until you hear what Hoffman endured just to be there.

You see, Hoffman played with a massive scar across his abdomen, which was once held together by 32 staples. In proper Canadian form, he believes it resembles a mini hockey stick. The scar is a daily reminder of the Stage 4 cancer that nearly took the life of the 36-year-old. 

Hoffman's professional career is similar to that of thousands of others. An outstanding amateur career followed by some success at the pro level. He, along with his brother Matt, now an assistant coach at the University of Michigan, won numerous events across Canada. But professional golf is hard and expensive. Grinding on the mini-tours isn't conducive to getting married and starting a family. 

Hoffman stopped playing full-time in 2021 and went into coaching. However, he was adamant, even then, that he never retired; his desire to play professionally never waned. "All these pros who say they retire and come back, I was never going to be one of them," Hoffman told me. 

In January 2022, Hoffman battled a stomach ache for most of the day, and the pain became severe during the night. He had experienced stomach pain on and off for a while, but nothing like this. His wife, Lana, and he thought he might have been lactose intolerant, so they avoided dairy, which seemed to help. But on this night, the pain was almost too much to bear. 

The next day, Hoffman headed to the ER. It was during Covid, so Lana dropped him off and returned to their house just 10 minutes away. "I never thought for one second it was anything serious,” Lana recalls. 

At North York General Hospital in Toronto, the doctor ordered a CT scan, which turned up a tumor in his colon. Although he wasn't an expert in the field, the doctor was fairly certain the tumor was cancerous. 

"This isn't good," Mark told Lana in a text. 

Mark’s head was understandably spinning. The ER doctor mentioned he was friends with a world-renowned surgeon and promised to give him a call. It was a friendship that Mark would learn may have very well saved his life. 

Lana returned to the hospital, and Mark told her the doctor believed he had colon cancer. "This can't be true," Lana remembers thinking.

As the couple made the drive home, Mark's phone rang. It was Usman Hameed, the surgeon. He instructed the Hoffmans to get the needed products to prepare for a colonoscopy the next morning. 

The colonoscopy confirmed the cancer. Surgery to remove part of his colon was scheduled for the following morning.

Hameed removed the tumor along with 87 lymph nodes during the three-hour surgery, considerably more than the 20 lymph nodes that are typically removed. Only one of the lymph nodes had cancer, which was an almost sure sign that all of the cancerous cells in the colon had been resected. 

Mark was assigned an oncologist, and a week later he and Lana met with her to come up with a chemotherapy plan. 

The oncologist, Katheryn Towns, told Mark the original CT scan showed some spots on his liver. An MRI was scheduled to confirm the spots were simply a shadow from the scan. 

But on Valentine's Day, for the second time in less than a month, the Hoffmans received more devastating news. Mark had three tumors on his liver.

He took the news without shedding a tear. "She probably thought I was crazy,” he said of the oncologist. “I didn't cry. I just asked, ‘What are we going to do?’" 

Lana, on the other hand, called it "the worst day of my life. I was bawling. I was a total mess." 

In just one month, their lives had been turned upside down. A treatment plan was devised. Mark would do four rounds of chemotherapy, take two months off to help his body prepare for surgery on his liver, and then resume chemo.

The plan for chemo was made with golf in mind. "I can't take golf from you," Towns told Mark. Golf has always been such an essential part of his life; it would be vital in his battle with cancer. Mark told almost no one at work about his situation, other than his bosses, as he needed to schedule time off for his treatments. He continued to work and give lessons. The chemo didn't cause his hair to fall out, so most didn’t know the guy was in a fight for his life. 

On May 29, 2022, Mark had the tumors removed from his liver. The surgeon, Paul Karanicolas, told him as he prepped him for the six-hour surgery, "You think about golf; I'll take care of the surgery." 

Keeping his sense of humor, Mark quipped, "I didn't have that illustrious of a career in golf, though." The surgeon replied, "Well, I have in surgery." 

Yes, but …

"What a guy" Mark remembers thinking when he awoke from the surgery. The surgeon had told him the procedure would leave a small scar. Instead, Hoffman looked down to find 32 staples stretched across his abdomen. 

Karanicolas had removed 60 percent of his liver, hopeful he had found all of the cancer.

As Mark recovered in the ICU, he reflected on the previous five months. The trip to the ER, the shock of the cancer diagnosis, having part of his colon removed, yet more bad news, and facing the very real chance he was nearing the end of his life. Yet he was still alive. He was as determined as ever to keep fighting. 

Following surgery, Hoffman went through four more months of chemo, and then in October 2022, he faced his first scan to see if the cancer was gone. The hours the Hoffmans waited to get the results felt like days. 

Clear. Mark Hoffman was cancer-free. 

That didn't mean the battle was over. He would undergo scans every three months.

The routine was the same at each one of the scans. The Hoffmans lived their lives in three-month increments. Get the scan, hold their breath until they receive the results, and exhale only when the scan comes back clean. 

Mark credits Lana with transforming their lives and the way they maintained some sense of normalcy. She became an expert on colon cancer spending countless hours researching ways to improve their lifestyle. She joined a Facebook group called Colontown, an online community of support for colorectal cancer patients and caregivers. Here she found information and many stories both good and bad... She shared the inspirational ones of recovery and hope with Mark. 

In early 2024, Lana learned she was pregnant with the couple's first child, only to have that excitement muted by a scan later in the year that showed three swollen lymph nodes. The oncologist said the lymph nodes were in an area that surgeons likely wouldn’t be able to remove if they proved to be cancerous. If a scan, scheduled just weeks before the Hoffmans’ daughter was due, showed that things had gotten worse, the doctor said, "this would truly be the tip of the iceberg,” and no longer curable.  The words hit like a brick. 

Mia Hoffman was born on Oct. 30, 2024; both mother and child were healthy. Dad was too. The scan had come back clean. 

Mark continued to coach but also played some events when he could. He won a couple of pro-ams, and heading into the Monday Q for his national open, he was feeling good about his game. 

He played well in trying conditions. His 1-under 70 in 30 mph winds was good enough to get him into a playoff for the final spot. 

Back at home, Lana was refreshing the leaderboard again and again, but before it was updated for the playoff, she got a text. 

"I lost." 

Another gut punch. 

On his way home, Mark called Lana. "Isn't there any way you can get in?" she asked. "No, let it go,” he said. “It's over." 

That night, Lana, Mark, and Mark's mom were eating pizza after putting Mia to sleep when Mark's phone rang. It was Ryan Paul, the tournament director for the Canadian Open. 

"We have an exemption spot left,” Paul said. “We would like to give it to you." 

The tournament didn't go as Mark had hoped; he shot 75-81 and beat only one other player in the field. He isn't sure what lies ahead in terms of his playing career, but he hopes to have more opportunities.  

But first things first. On Sunday, he celebrated his first Father’s Day as a dad. And the hockey-stick scar serves as a daily reminder of a victory bigger than anything he will ever experience on a golf course. 

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