CLERMONT, Fla. — In a rehabilitation center for stroke patients, past the security, down a spacious hallway, in a secluded room, Chet Lemon sits beside his bed, secured in a wheelchair.

He sports a yellow wristband indicating he is at risk of falling.

On the wall, a television tuned to ESPN showcases baseball highlights. Four decades ago, he was the celebrated center fielder for the Detroit Tigers — a talented player and an All-Star on the 1984 World Series-winning team.

Sadly, 13 strokes have left him unable to articulate more than a few basic words.

The rest emerges as incomprehensible sounds.

Chet cannot walk. He cannot tend to his own needs. His son, Marcus, stands beside him, assisting him in getting dressed. It is early May, and Chet gazes blankly at the television, his eyes appearing vacant, suggesting he is not truly engaged. However, everything shifts when his 26-year-old daughter, Bri, enters the room. Chet recognizes her immediately — though his short-term memory is unclear, his long-term recall seems intact — and his face brightens.

“Dee dough!!” Chet exclaims, radiating joy and enthusiasm as his voice comes to life. “DEE DOUGH.”

Bri surprises him with her visit, flying in early from Columbus, Ohio, where she resides. She leans down to hug him as he sits in the wheelchair.

“Look what I brought for you?” Bri says, presenting him with a Tigers cap.

“Dee dough!” Chet replies excitedly, placing the cap on his head with his left hand while his right hand remains unresponsive, curled against his body, rigid and stubborn. His recent stroke has affected the left side of his brain and severely impacted the right side of his body.

“Oh, dee-dough, dee-dough,” Chet repeats, stretching the sounds out.

What compels Chet to repeat this one phrase is puzzling. He articulates it in various tones and pitches, seemingly shifting its meaning with changes in inflection, loudness, or accompanying facial expressions.

Diagnosed with global aphasia — a communication disorder affecting language capability — he struggles to express himself.

“I told you I would come see you today,” she tells him.

Bri visits regularly.

“Dee dough,” he responds, his tone deepening.

By observing his body movements, facial expressions, and vocal tones, it feels as though he is conveying: I love you.

Most instances leave the family guessing the meaning of his utterances.

A moment later, Gigi Lemon, his wife of 33 years, walks into the room.

“Ahhhhhh!” Chet exclaims, overflowing with excitement. “DEE DOUGH!”

Since retiring from the Tigers in 1990, Chet has faced numerous health challenges, including blood clots, severe internal bleeding, and strokes, resulting in hospital visits exceeding 300 times.

Gigi has traveled with Chet across the nation, seeking various doctors and treatments. However, the latest stroke has made it too challenging for her to care for him alone.

“How are you today?” she inquires.

“DEE! DOUGH!” he exuberantly responds, as if expressing: This is amazing! You’re here, as are Bri and Marcus, and life feels great.

“Look at the surprise,” she says, gesturing toward Bri.

“DEE! DOUGH!” Chet says again, his eyes sparkling with delight.

The family shares a deep bond filled with love and encouragement.

Gigi lives in their home, about 30 minutes away, and works at a large sports facility that Chet constructed north of Orlando, but she comes to see him every day. A consistent flow of family and friends visit Chet regularly, organized in a way that Gigi manages, ensuring Chet is seldom alone.

“Dee dough,” he reiterates.

Chet and Gigi share a hug, and she caresses his back and hand. Leaning down, she stares into his eyes, still able to see glimpses of her husband within him. She can still recognize “The Juice,” the exciting player revered for his skillful one-handed catches and extraordinary home runs.

“You doing all right today?” she asks him.

“Dee dough,” he quickly responds, suggesting: Yes, I’m doing great. Much better now.

“Hey, I love the Detroit shirt they dressed you in today,” Gigi mentions.

“Dee dough.” His agreement is clear.

He raises his left arm, pointing to an unspecified spot, altering his tone: “Dee dough.”

His expression shifts to seriousness, his eyes focused, and his tone intensifies: “Dee dough!”

He is indicating he desires something.

“Are you asking to have this removed from your room?” Gigi queries, gesturing toward the breakfast tray.

This is a common scenario. Chet often begins to say “dee dough” in a commanding tone, leaving his family in a rush to decipher his needs or desires by considering various options.

“Dee dough,” Chet exhales, showing signs of frustration as it proves challenging to determine what he’s pointing at or what he wants.

“Do you want your drink?” she inquires.

Gigi hands him a glass of water.

“Is this what you needed?”

He takes a sip.

“Ahh!” he expresses, clearly satisfied.

The entire “dee dough” conundrum bewilders the family. Is he trying to mean “water” and it comes out as “dee dough”? When he says “dee dough,” does his mind conjure “water”? The family has ceased trying to interpret it and simply accepts it as part of their lives.

“That sure was refreshing,” Marcus comments.

Gigi carefully puts on Chet’s shoes and

He adjusts his pants.

“Dee dough,” Chet replies.

This time, it’s evident what he means: Thank you. I cherish you.

Returning for the ’84 Tigers celebration

The Lemon family has kept Chet’s health details private over the years. However, they now wish to share his journey before the Tigers commemorate the 40th anniversary of the 1984 team — a celebration scheduled for Saturday. They want Chet’s former teammates to understand his inability to speak and for fans to know why he will be using a wheelchair.

At 69, Chet will be present at the ceremony — Gigi is resolute about that.

“I believe seeing the fans, reconnecting with his teammates, and being back in Detroit will spark many memories for him,” Gigi expressed. “It will definitely be a wave of nostalgia. Naturally, it will be emotional, too.”

Gigi crouches down to Chet and asks cheerfully, “Are you excited to return to Detroit?”

“Yeah, yeah,” he replies.

This is one of the few words he can articulate, although he doesn’t use it frequently.

“We’ll be flying back,” she continues. “And we get to visit MotorCity Casino and have some fun.”

While Gigi hopes to help him walk before the celebration, she’s also realistic. She has a second motive for sharing Chet’s story: If he cannot attend the ceremony, she wants his teammates and fans to comprehend the reasons behind it.

Lastly, the Lemon family aims to leverage Chet’s experience to assist others by raising awareness about aphasia. Approximately one-third of stroke survivors experience aphasia, affecting over 2 million individuals in the United States, based on data from the National Aphasia Association.

They are in the process of establishing the Chet Lemon Foundation, intending to support others, and have launched a website: http://www.chetlemonfoundation.org

They have welcomed the Free Press into their lives, sharing their journey and granting unrestricted access to discuss his medical challenges.

“We know there are many families facing similar issues,” Gigi mentioned. “We aspire to create a foundation that delivers education and support to caregivers and people dealing with aphasia. I remember being confused 2½ years ago; every stroke is unique, and each one affects the brain differently.”

Blood disorders lead to health issues

Chet’s path to this moment has taken many years.

He concluded his career in 1990 after 16 seasons, with the final nine spent in Detroit. A three-time All-Star, Chet was diagnosed with polycythemia vera, a rare blood disorder that results in the overproduction of red blood cells from the bone marrow.

This condition has been the root cause of his health issues.

The excess cells can thicken the blood, leading to blood clots and an enlarged spleen, forcing him to rely on blood thinners. However, this medication places him at risk of internal bleeding.

“We’ve visited the hospital at least 12 times a year, with several stays being quite lengthy, for the past 30 years,” she recounted. “We used to celebrate each time we made it a month without a hospital visit.”

Throughout this journey, there have been many remarkable ups and downs, including the time ESPN mistakenly reported that he had passed away.

“Chet saw Chris Berman deliver a eulogy about him on ESPN,” Gigi recalled. “They announced he was dying in a Florida hospital and shared highlights from his career. Chet said, ‘I can’t imagine many can say they know what it’s like to be on the brink of death, but I need to get out of here.’”

Gigi has honed her skills in identifying internal bleeding: “If he vomits and it’s bright red, it indicates the bleed is above the stomach,” she explained. “If the stool appears black and tarry, it’s a sign of stomach bleeding.”

She has countless stories about their experiences with bleeding. One occasion, he vomited in a hotel room — “It was a bloodbath. You would think someone had been murdered in my room,” Gigi recounted.

In another incident, his spleen became so enlarged that “it looked like he was nine months pregnant,” Gigi mentioned.

Doctors ended up removing a “7-pound spleen,” according to her.

Despite these ongoing health challenges, Lemon remained connected to baseball, pursuing his passion by coaching youth. He led a local high school team to a state championship and established Chet Lemon’s Juice, an elite travel baseball program that secured various national titles and helped numerous players advance to college and professional baseball, including notable athletes like Prince Fielder, Zach Greinke, and Billy.

Butler, Ricky Weeks, Tim Raines Jr., Bobby Wilson, Brady Singer, and the current Tigers slugger Kerry Carpenter are just a few names that come up.

“Chet used to claim he had 70 first-round draft picks,” Gigi mentioned. “Despite all this, he was always unwell. He never fully recovered from the stomach clot and all the surgeries. He was perpetually sick.”

Nonetheless, he continued coaching, working with young players and teaching them the right way to play, aiming to help them secure college placements or professional contracts.

“I recall him sharing stories about the ’84 World Series team,” Carpenter said. “He had a deep understanding of baseball. I enjoyed our discussions on the outfield. Above all, it was his presence in the dugout that stood out to me. He’d sit on a bucket at the edge of the dugout, merely talking about the game and what was happening around.”

Chet would take his players on college visits, traveling by bus for 11 days throughout the South to help secure scholarships for them.

He didn’t miss practices or games, even when he was unwell.

“He was there from dawn until dusk,” Gigi stated. “There were times he left the hospital, telling doctors he had to go, even with an IV still attached. He insisted, ‘This kid has college scouts coming to see him, and I need to call his game.’”

At times, his legs were so swollen he could hardly stand—“His legs would balloon up,” Gigi recalled—and Chet would coach from the dugout with his feet submerged in ice buckets.

He narrowly escaped death multiple times. “They’ve called him a medical miracle,” Gigi stated. “There’s no logical reason he’s still mobile.”

A continuous cycle of hospital stays

Chet’s blood condition has been well documented since his playing days, but the strokes the family has faced remained private until now.

His first stroke occurred in 2017, initiating a relentless and tiring series of events: one stroke led to rehab, then blood thinners, followed by gastrointestinal bleeding, more hospital visits, and additional strokes, along with prolonged rehabilitations.

Each stroke seemed more severe than the previous one, and recoveries became increasingly challenging.

Chet experienced 13 confirmed strokes, yet Gigi believes there were likely many minor incidents that went unnoticed.

She would film Chet during rehab to track his progress and to check for potential new strokes.

“We often review those videos to see how he was doing a month or two ago,” Gigi explained. “Then I would consult with the kids, saying, ‘I think Dad might have had another stroke. What do you think?’ ”

Sometimes, they identified subtle indications, like Chet standing with his cane without putting his foot down.

At other times, it was obvious. One day, as Chet was standing by the sink using his cane, Gigi put toothpaste on his brush, and he mistakenly tried to brush his hair. She called the doctors at Mayo, who advised her to bring him in.

“They performed a CAT scan and confirmed a new infarction,” she said. “Thus, we would have to restart rehab again.”

In the fall of 2020, Chet attempted to say something but was unable to produce any sound.

“We rushed him to the hospital,” she recounted. “He had another stroke. After going through speech therapy, he seemed fine.”

On November 6, 2021, Gigi recorded him, as was usual.

“You can talk to the kids,” she encouraged in the video.

“I’m getting better,” he responded with a smile. “I think.”

“Feeling better?” she inquired.

“Yes,” he replied distinctly.

That turned out to be the last recording of his voice.

Shortly afterward, he suffered another stroke and has remained unable to speak since, being diagnosed with global aphasia—the most severe form.

“We believe his memory and everything is still intact,” Gigi said. “However, he can no longer communicate verbally.”

But that wasn’t the only issue he faced.

In August 2023, he experienced yet another stroke that took away his ability to walk.

The root cause of the problem

Why was he experiencing so many strokes?

Doctors discovered a significant clot in his carotid artery.

“Pieces were continually breaking off,” Gigi explained. “Every time a fragment detached, it would travel to his brain and become lodged somewhere, leading to further loss of function.”

The surgeons removed part of the clot and inserted a stent—a small mesh tube—into his carotid artery to prevent further clots; since then, he hasn’t had any strokes.

After speaking with numerous doctors and reviewing brain imaging results displaying the damage he had sustained, the family has come to terms with the fact that his speech is unlikely to return.

“It’s unfortunate what he’s had to endure, but he never truly gives up,” Bri commented. “He is incredibly inspiring. Everything my dad does is motivating, and I’m constantly in awe of his perseverance. If he could still talk, I’m sure he would be coaching baseball.”

Communicating through music

At the stroke rehabilitation center, Bri stands beside her father.

“Would you like some music?” she asks.

While Chet struggles to express himself verbally, his family has discovered they can connect with him more deeply through music.

“I’ll go first today,” she says, scrolling through her phone.

During their visits, they play music for him, creating a playful competition.

If Chet enjoys a song, he begins to dance in his wheelchair, swaying gently, his face revealing his emotions.

A thumbs-up means you get to select another song.

But if he doesn’t react positively, receiving a thumbs-down, the next person gets to choose a new track.

On this occasion, Bri kicks things off with Paul Russell’s “Little Boo Thang.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Chet chimes in, moving to the music in his chair. “Dee dough!”

Bri holds her cellphone, nodding to the rhythm, enjoying the moment.

Gigi scrolls through her phone. “I got one for you,” she announces. “This is a great track.”

She plays Jack Harlow’s “Lovin’ On Me.”

As the song plays, it’s clear Chet is loving it; he begins to sway in his seat, nodding and grooving his shoulders. “Yeah, yeah.” His eyes squint, as if he’s immersed in the music. “Dee dough!”

Bri sings and dances, while Gigi takes Chet’s hand and they begin to dance together, even though he’s bound to the wheelchair. “Dee dough,” he laughs, beaming with joy.

Gigi and Chet share a gaze, with her focused intently on him, looking to interpret his feelings. This connection is their only form of communication.

“She’s one of the most resilient women I know,” Marcus shares. “My mom has never — never — wavered. She’s always by my dad’s side. Her love and care for him are incredible to witness.”

Welcome Back, Pro Athlete

It’s time for physical therapy.

Marcus maneuvers his father in the wheelchair through the entrance.

“Deeeee dough!” Chet exclaims, full of energy.

Everyone bursts into laughter. “Deeeee dooouuughhh!” he extends the words for fun.

Upon entering a spacious workout area, a therapist assists Chet as he prepares to get onto an elliptical bike. “Dee dough,” he exclaims.

“Lean forward and reach here,” the therapist instructs. “We practice this every day.”

“Yeah!” he replies enthusiastically.

While they doubt that his speech may fully return, the hope is for him to walk again. Given his history, it’s achievable. Throughout past strokes, he has always battled back and regained the ability to walk through rehabilitation.

“One, two, three,” the therapist counts as she lifts him using a supportive belt around his waist. “You’re incredibly strong.”

“Dee dough,” he responds.

Chet grunts as he slips into the elliptical seat, while she helps position his feet on the pedals. “Up, up, up,” she motivates him.

This machine challenges both the legs and arms simultaneously.

Chet starts pedaling, working both his legs and his left hand while his right hand remains rigid against his chest.

“Dee dough!” he exclaims, kicking up his effort.

With determination, he begins pedaling vigorously, his legs moving quickly.

“I have a song for you too, Dad,” Bri says excitedly.

She plays Bobby Brown’s “My Prerogative.”

“Yeah, yeah!” Chet cheers. “Yeah, yeah!”

As he continues to pedal, he becomes increasingly focused and determined, revealing the professional athlete within him. He thrives on training, enjoys therapy, and loves working hard. It seems to awaken something profound within him.

“Yeah!” he exclaims, steadily.

Reviving Old Memories

After therapy, they move into a spacious, well-lit community room.

They browse through old footage of him interacting with the press.

“Hey, Dad, do you remember this?” Bri asks, illuminating a 54-minute video she compiled from the 25th anniversary of Chet Lemon’s Juice, the baseball initiative he founded.

The video begins with his MLB highlights.

“Is that really you?” Gigi asks, gazing at the clip where he steals a home run.

“Dee dough,” he replies. “Yeah.”

Chet played 16 seasons in the major leagues with the Chicago White Sox and Tigers.

He was regarded as one of the finest center fielders, and in 1977, he topped the American League with 512 outfield putouts. Alongside his defensive prowess, he was a talented hitter, being among the 164 players in baseball history with at least 200 home runs (215), 1,800 hits (1,875), and a batting average of .270 (.273), as detailed by Baseball Reference.

<p“You hit a home run right there,” Gigi comments.

Rather than just reliving past successes, it’s about hoping that the vivid memories will activate his brain in a refreshing manner.

She gently rubs his back.

“That’s from the World Series,” Gigi points out as they watch a highlight. “That was you. Is that The Juice?”

As the video concludes, heartfelt tributes to Chet from former players are showcased.

Matt LaPorta, a first-round draft choice who played four seasons with Cleveland, expressed: “You showed me what it means to be a professional baseball player. How to conduct myself, prepare mentally and physically for games, and maintain balance through highs and lows.”

Nick Gordon, another former first-round draft choice with four MLB seasons and currently with Miami, said: “I’ve had the privilege of meeting some amazing kids in this organization”

Sean Burnett, a left-handed pitcher who was drafted in the first round and played nine years in the MLB, remarked: “I truly appreciate everything you’ve done for me personally, from dining together to discussing baseball and sharing life lessons. These are lessons I carry into my career and hope to pass down to my children.”

Former MLB player Brad Miller, who had an 11-year career, shared his thoughts: “It’s really impressive that someone who dedicated their life to playing baseball at such a high level, after retirement, made it his mission to pass that love on to others, teaching the game and leaving a lasting impact on us. Like you always told us, we bleed Juice red. That means your values have become part of who we are. We played the game correctly because that’s what you instilled in us.”

Brady Singer, a first-round draft pick currently with the Kansas City Royals, is seen talking with his parents in the video.

Brady’s father, Brett Singer, shares: “I could talk forever about you; you’re an incredible person. We owe you so much.”

Brady then expresses his gratitude to Chet via video: “Thank you for all your guidance, for everything you’ve done for me, and for the wonderful moments we’ve shared.”

With his arm around his mother, Jacquelyn Singer, who wears a Juice T-shirt, she adds: “I truly love you, Coach Chet. My love extends to Gigi and the entire organization. We are so grateful for you.”

Finally, Marcus wraps up the video message: “You’ve created something that’s more than just a game. You’ve helped us form a family, which has grown into this amazing, vast Juice family. That’s all due to you, Dad. I love you.”

Marcus was picked by the Texas Rangers in the fourth round of the 2006 MLB draft. He spent 11 seasons in the minors, including time in the Tigers organization, learning from some of Chet’s former teammates like Lance Parrish. However, he never made it to the major leagues; he eventually retired and joined his father in coaching the Juice.

Marcus continued, “You’ve faced so many challenges and come out stronger. Every time I see you, I’m inspired to be a better man. You never give up, you always give back, and that speaks volumes. I want to be like you, Dad.”

Following in Chet’s Footsteps

Marcus launched a new initiative at the Big House called MLB — Marcus Lemon Baseball, which begins with a group of 11-year-old kids. He plans to bring back the Juice name when these young athletes reach high school and prove themselves worthy of donning those uniforms.

“I want them to grow in character just like I did,” Marcus explains to a small group of parents whose sons have been invited to join the new team. “That was the lesson I learned from playing for my dad.”

The expansive facility is nothing short of stunning, occupying three floors and featuring nine basketball courts, 16 volleyball courts, a full-size baseball infield, 10 batting cages, 16 pickleball courts, and a fitness center.

“It’s amazing,” Carpenter said during a visit in August. “I texted Marcus asking if I could come over Christmas. It has everything I could need.”

The venue truly offers everything most people could desire. Spanning 162,000 square feet, it’s larger than a typical Walmart Supercenter, which is about 178,000 square feet. In many ways, the Big House serves as a comprehensive hub for youth sports. Beyond the usual fields and courts found in similar venues like Total Sports in Wixom, it boasts additional amenities like a restaurant, a beauty salon, a barbershop, a fitness center, a daycare, a waxing room, a massage area, a store, a car-detailing space, and even a school.

“We considered all the things we missed while attending our kids’ games,” explains Gigi. “We often thought, ‘I wish I had time to wash my car.’

“So we made sure to include a car detailing area here.”

The latest feature to open is a school situated on the second floor.

“Chet expressed his desire for parents to be able to drop off their children at the Big House, allowing them to prepare for their SATs, ACTs, or receive any necessary tutoring, while also participating in sports,” Gigi mentioned. “Thus, we constructed classrooms, a theater, a computer lab, offices, and even a quarter-mile track on the second level.”

Currently, Gigi manages the facility with a dedicated staff who feel like an extension of her family.

Large youth tournaments are scheduled every weekend, typically attracting over 1,000 young athletes, alongside countless spectators regularly entering the facility. These events primarily focus on youth basketball and volleyball, although they have also started hosting pickleball tournaments.

“We have some cheerleading events coming up,” Gigi mentions.

At the two main gyms, Chet requested that the architect design suites that teams can rent to relax. One suite is Chet’s private room, furnished with leather seating and a large screen TV, featuring windows on either side for watching games.

However, he seldom uses it now.

Returning to Detroit — fingers crossed

Two months ago, Gigi transitioned Chet from the stroke center to receiving constant care in a more personal environment.

“I’ve brought on seven caregivers, ensuring he’s looked after every day of the week, all hours,” she shared.

While Chet is on Medicare, it doesn’t fully cover all Gigi’s costs. “I always tell everyone to prepare for life,” Gigi reflects. “You save for living, you set up a will for death, but you never anticipate being disabled.”

For many years, Gigi traveled with Chet, visiting various clinics and exploring treatments. “We were trying to fix him,” she recalls.

But now, she has reached a different phase.

“My kids and I agreed, ‘We’re not going to attempt to fix him,’” Gigi shares. “We just need to accept his world and how he functions.”

Little has shifted over the summer.

Chet still cannot walk or talk, and his right hand remains unresponsive.

“He’s doing as well as we can hope for,” Gigi remarks in early August. “His spirits are high. We had dessert last night—cheesecake with fresh fruit. We added a few extra ‘dee doughs.’ We’re not exactly sure what that means, but he seemed happy.”

Their main focus is on making him joyful, surrounding him with close friends and family. Every Wednesday evening, they host a gathering for Chet. “Last night, we had spaghetti for dinner,” Gigi says. “The week before, we served island cuisine. We aim to help him reconnect with people.”

Recently, Gigi arranged for a wheelchair-accessible van for Chet. He enjoys going for rides and gazing out the windows. Marcus reads books to Chet and creates touching videos of him; Bri has developed a website for the Chet Lemon Foundation, which launched earlier this month.

They’re set to fly to Detroit on Friday, August 30, to celebrate the 1984 Tigers. “We’re ready to go,” Gigi affirms. “Marcus will be there, Bri is coming, yes, we’re all set!”

Above all, Gigi hopes Chet can attend this celebration alongside his former teammates.

To hear the cheering crowds.

To feel the admiration from fans.

To reunite with Gibby, Peaches, Tram, and Lou.

Hoping it ignites something within him.

Wishing it gives him true happiness.

“At Mayo, they emphasize the importance of quality of life,” she says. “No one can predict how long we have, but we want to ensure that while Chet is still with us, he enjoys a great quality of life.”

So, as long as nothing changes and his health remains stable, Chet Lemon is on his way back to Detroit.

He may appear different; he may sound different.

But in his eyes, the spirit we know as the Juice still shines through.

Reach out to Jeff Seidel: jseidel@freepress.com or follow him @seideljeff.