It’s such a simple goal
It’s comes so easy to us
It comes with little thought
but just a small ‘Yay!’
Yes, we might practice on our form
or distance
But nothing like this
Biting down hard on his lip
The look of concentration in his eyes
The force behind the throw
The ball leaves his finger tips
Archs high in the air
. . . and misses
Throw
Miss
Throw
Miss
Throw
Miss
Throw
Miss
Throw
Miss
A hundred times over
The sweat dripping down his neck
His hair damp from the effort
His shirt wrinkled
He takes the ball
Gets a firm grip
Throws
His wheelchair kicks back against the force
He watches the ball, longingly wishing it would swoosh inside the net
It circles the rim
and falls
on the other side
Another miss
I run across the gym floor for the ball
I put the ball inside his reach
He looks at me
He shakes his head
He wants to give up
He is tired
He knows he’ll never make it
He’s done this so many times
Each time so close
but not close enough
He can’t do it
It’s not possible
“Hey, I know you’re tired.
But keep on trying.
We can do this.
YOU can do this.”
His hands slowly move forward
and takes the ball
He paws his fingers forward
Moves the ball into the position he has done so many times
each time with the ball missing by an inch or two
He throws
Misses
I run for the ball
I pray
“Dear God,
This means so much for him.
Please let him do this.
Amen.”
I turn around
His hand is up to his face
defeated
his whole body shows it
I move the ball around in the air
trying to get his attention.
I call his name.
“I know you can do this.
You are so close.
All this has been practice
and this time you can make it.
Come on, you can do this!”
He takes the ball
He throws the ball
He misses
I run for the ball across our side of the gym
No one sees his struggle
No one seems to think it matters
They should
They don’t see his smile
when the ball hits him in the face
and he laughs
They don’t see when he is trying
but can’t seem to do ‘good enough’
They don’t see his longing looks at the other kids
to be like them
To move
To use his legs
To carry on a conversation
I am jumping up and down by this point
“You are doing awesome!
This is all on you.
You can do this!”
I emphasize each word with a jump.
I look at the clock
one minute until gym is over
I throw the ball to him.
He catches it awkwardly, like he always does
But he catches it and that makes it beautiful.
He looks at me.
I nod my head vigorously.
He bites down on the left side of his lower lip
Moves the ball into position.
The ball leaves his hands
I hear his wheelchair kick back from the force he puts on the ball.
The ball arches perfectly.
The ball rolls on the rim
. . . and falls in.
The net swooshes.
The ball falls
The ball bounces.
The music is cut
and the coach yells to clean up.
I turn
and see the biggest smile
He starts laughing
I start jumping again
I praise him on what an accomplishment it is.
“I am so proud of you!
You worked so hard
and you made it!”
I look around at all the others in the class
knowing all too well that they could have done this feat so easily
But they aren’t the ones who practiced non stop
But they aren’t the ones who are in a wheelchair
But they aren’t the ones who kept going when they were tired
It’s such a simple goal
It’s comes so easily to us
It comes with little thought
but just a small ‘Yay!’
But life is not fair
Some people struggle to do the simplest things
The simplest tasks can take a great amount of effort
Nothing like the satisfaction in himself he feels when it is done.
He softly whispers,
“We made a basket.”
Håkan Dahlström / Foter / CC BY
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