The play was a quick pitch, and Trey Johnson remembers it well.

His Rochester Rams led Monessen, 14-0, in the fourth quarter in the first game of the season, and Johnson, a senior running back, already had scored two touchdowns and a 2-point conversion.

Johnson took the ball from the 6 and did what his coaches taught him to do: run to the pylon.

He scored what turned out to be one of the biggest touchdowns of his career, but only because of what happened afterward.

Rochester coach Gene Matsook sent in Johnson's 15-year-old brother, Alente, to try to kick the extra point.

It was a special moment for the Johnson family because it almost never happened.

Back in the seventh grade, Alente was diagnosed with ulcerative colitis, a disease that affects the intestines and colon. Since then, Alente has taken between 18 and 32 doses of medication a day, endured chemotherapy and underwent blood transfusions.

"He had a daily routine of a handful of medications," said Christina Johnson, the boys' mother.

The disease, which is not considered terminal, is manageable with care, and, though his doctors at Children's Hospital never said Alente was completely healthy, he always felt fine.

Alente is active, playing football, basketball and baseball. He pitched a no-hitter with a hemoglobin level that would have had most kids his age in a doctor's office.

But, when symptoms flared in June, doctors told Alente his disease had progressed.

Then, they told him he might never play sports again.

Alente walked toward the huddle wearing No. 17, as close a jersey number as he could get to No. 7, the number Trey wears.

The two are separated by less than two years in age, and they share a birthday within a week of each other. But it had been years since the two played football on the same team.

Alente was 6, Trey 8, the last time that happened. Parents Ed and Christina Johnson watched as they suited up for the Rochester Termites.

"I played quarterback," Trey said.

"I played the bench," countered Alente.

Football was always Trey's sport -- he always was better than Alente, and he hopes to play into college and perhaps beyond. Alente is a baseball guy, but he plays football and basketball.

He joined the football team in high school, earning a spot as a backup quarterback and starting kicker.

"I really don't kick," Alente said, but he had done it before, so he was pegged to do it again. "I don't mind it."

Now with Rochester up, 20-0, Alente was trying to add an extra point to his brother's score. He ran toward the ball, swung his leg and kicked the football. ...

Alente did not know how to react to the news he might not play sports again.

"I was speechless," he said. "I didn't talk to anybody. I was just angry."

Knowing he might not be able to do what he loves most hurt enough, but Alente knew this year would be his last chance to play with his big brother.

"It was real important," he said. "I knew he was going off to college."

If he wanted a chance to play again, which doctors thought highly unlikely, he needed to maintain his dietary habits and gain some weight. Christina Johnson was not optimistic.

"We were told he would never play sports again," she said.

But Alente proved her wrong. He was determined to get back on the field come fall.

Toward the end of the summer, Alente's doctors cleared him to play.

"Everything aligned," Christina Johnson said.

After leaving Alente's foot, the ball fluttered through the air, clearing the crossbar by mere inches.

"Just barely," Ed Johnson said, although Alente jokes he kicked it so hard it hit the scoreboard about 100 feet back.

It did not matter to Christina Johnson. A made kick is a made kick, regardless how close it is.

"It went over -- for the moment and the memory of it," she said.

Christina Johnson cried. Her husband had a lump in his throat. Their two sons scored every Rochester point in the season-opening win.

"It just felt good to see them both out there playing," Ed Johnson said, "because it won't happen again."

Alente played one more varsity game, but he sustained a bruised fibula in a junior-varsity game a couple days later.

The injury sidelined him, but also drew his attention back to his disease. More problems sent him to the hospital last month, and doctors had to treat his condition more aggressively. He had surgery to remove his colon.

Meanwhile, Trey was having a career year. He has scored 23 touchdowns for Rochester, leading the undefeated Rams to the No. 1 seed in the WPIAL Class A playoffs.

But Trey always thought about Alente.

In the Rams' regular-season finale -- the last game to be played between Rochester and Monaca -- Trey trotted out to the field wearing No. 17, a tribute to his sidelined brother. That meant a lot to Alente, but more to their mother

"Trey is a senior," she said. "He's having a phenomenal senior year. He could have worn No. 7 and not thought twice. But he chose to put himself back and put Alente in the limelight."

As Trey prepares for a WPIAL Class A semifinal Friday against North Catholic, Alente continues to recover from surgery.

But he needs two more operations, which essentially would reconstruct his digestive system. His doctor's gave him a couple options: have the surgery soon or wait a few months and play basketball for Rochester.

Alente chose the latter.

After all, his brother's on the basketball team, too.

Mike White's "High School Sports Edition" videos are featured exclusively on PG+, a members-only web site from the Pittsburgh Post-Gazette. Our introduction to PG+ gives you all the details.