A Beautiful Beyond-Basketball Story

Basketball is a huge topic of discussion in my house these days. It is, after all, the beginning of March Madness when the top college teams battle it out for the National Championship. My husband and son will soon be feverishly working on their brackets, making picks, predicting upsets. As always, I'll root for my alma mater, Boston College, as well as an assortment of likely-win favorites and underdogs. Nothing, though, not even a major upset like a #20 seed knocking off Duke or U-Conn will move me as much as the story about the kid from the little town outside Rochester, New York.

For those who may have been in hibernation, the story is about Jason McElwain, the 5 foot 6 inch Greece Athena high school student who has autism. For the past two years as basketball team manager, Jason has been an enthusiastic supporter - keeping statistics, handing out towels, fetching water bottles, encouraging his teammates. He never missed a practice, made all but one game. For the last home game of the regular season, Coach Jim Johnson decided to give Jason, a senior, a chance to feel what it was like to sit on the bench wearing a uniform instead of his usual white shirt and black tie.

With four minutes left, Coach Johnson sent Jason into the game, hoping he might somehow get a basket, make a memory. After missing his first two shots, Jason got unbelievably hot, hitting a 3-pointer, and then another and another and another. In four minutes, he'd drained six 3-pointers and scored 20 points, tying a school record. His final shot, a nothing-but-net NBA distance 3-pointer swished through as time expired. The crowd went crazy, storming onto the court, surrounding him in a wild frenzy, as they whooped and cheered. It was a moment of pure magic.

There is so much to like about this story it is hard to know where to begin. With all the problems I've both witnessed and read about in youth sports these days - coaches yelling and berating, parents whining and interfering, fans complaining about calls-here was a refreshing example of the polar opposite. This story is a life lesson for coaches, teammates, fans and communities on how to do things right.

Here is a coach who showed compassion, giving a dedicated hard-working kid a chance at a dream. Here are players enthusiastically supporting their teammate/manager who they fondly refer to as 'J-Mac.' Here are fans - on both sides of the court - cheering, encouraging. And here is a kid, against all odds, achieving what he never dreamed possible.

The other part of this story goes back in time. Like many communities, the Greece Athena school system had been struggling with how to best serve kids with special needs. Six years ago, the school district was cited by the state of New York for not doing enough for kids with disabilities. Special needs students in this now progressive district are an integral part of the schools. The integration is so entrenched that at first the team didn't understand what all the fuss was about.

"Jason is so much a part of us and our program that we kind of forgot he was autistic," one teammate said. There is a lesson here for all communities - both large and small - about creating opportunity, embracing difference.

I missed the report when it was first broadcast, learning about it later from my husband and son who'd caught it on ESPN. When I finally saw it, I watched in awe and wonder. Like many people, I was completely overcome. It wasn't so much that this kid was making these amazing shots. It was the reaction of his teammates and the crowd that was so touching. It was the fans yelling and waving signs with Jason's picture when he stepped onto the court. It was the hooting and howling and jumping and screaming, over and over, longer and louder after each basket. It was the complete and unequivocal support for the "little guy."

After my son and I finished watching the report for a second time, I struggled to describe the feeling. My son turned to me and said, "It kind of gives you chills." Yes, that is it. That is exactly what it does.

This March Madness season, I'll be watching and cheering through the Sweet Sixteen, Elite Eight, Final Four and Championship game. As in year's past, I'll go crazy over Duke and Gonzaga, U-Conn and Kentucky.

There will no doubt be buzzer-beaters and upsets, overtime games and amazing thrills. But there will never be a moment like the four-minute miracle in Greece, N.Y. Not the kind that leaves you breathless, stirred. Not the kind that takes you away to another place. Not the kind that leaves you trembling - in a good way - with incredible chills.

(This column was originally published on townonline.com March, 2006)