The Roller Coaster
by Michael Topel

“Bobby, it’s time to go,” Tom proclaimed. “We’re going to be late.” “I don’t want to go,” Bobby responds. “What do you mean, you don’t want to go. Don’t be silly. You’re going to have a great time learning to play basketball with the other kids,” Tom says in a persuasive manner, trying to pry Bobby from his toys in his room. “This isn’t an optional thing kiddo. We’re going to go. You’ll have a great time. You’ll see.” “I don’t want to go. I don’t care about basketball,” Bobby continues to insist. “Hey, how bout this: If you come with me, I will take you to get ice cream after the clinic. How bout that?”

Tom’s means of persuasion proved quite effective. Bobby came stumbling out of his room with a giant smile on his face. His father’s efforts were successful. They both entered the car and headed toward Ridgefield Elementary School. The basketball clinic was designed for physically and mentally challenged children between the ages of five and eleven. It was an opportunity for children of less fortune to have a good time throwing around the basketball, while meeting other kids of similar circumstance.

Bobby had been born with Down syndrome. There had been some complications at birth, and Tome was left with Bobby and a deceased wife. Tom has had trouble coming to terms with the situation. The tragic event forced him to change professions. Prior to Bobby’s birth, Tom worked for a major law firm in Milwaukee. The firm required long hours, and hiring a nanny to watch over Bobby was never even a consideration. Instead, Tom decided to create a logo design company. He had always been artistically gifted, and he thought that time with Bobby would be the best for both of them. This type of profession would allow him to work from home. Bobby was all he had.

They pulled into the parking lot of the elementary school. “Hey Bobbo, we’re here!” Bobby didn’t share the same enthusiasm. He dropped his head, and began to cry frantically. “I don’t want to go! None of the other kids are going to like me,” Bobby said, as tears smothered his face. Bobby’s basis for comparison was not a pleasurable one.

When he joined Norfolk Elementary School in second grade, many of the other kids teased him about the way he looked and talked. They would frequently call him names such as “ACCIDENT” and “RETARD.” Tom pulled Bobby out of the school when he came home with bruises all over his body.

“Bobby, I know you’ve been through some rough times, but I’ve been there with you for the ride, and I’ll always be there. We’ve got to get through this together. Life is like a giant roller coaster. It’s full of ups and downs. We just gotta do our best to get to the top. Can you trust me on this one?” “Okay,” Bobby replied.

They both exited the car and went toward the walkway leading up to the school gym. As they entered, Bobby was amazed at all the different types of children within the premises. There must have been over fifty kids roaming through the gym. He saw boys and girls; some just like him, and others with more severe disabilities. Some were racing around the gym in wheelchairs. Each had a ball in hand and lunged toward the basket in an effort to score. Due to the large variety of disabilities present, the task of getting the ball into the hoop was more challenging to some than others.

As Bobby turned around, he saw a young man approach him. “Hey Bobby, how you doin? My name’s Tyler. What’s goin on little man?” Tyler raised his hand while in a crouching position. Bobby slaps him five and exposes a particularly restricted smile. “You ready to play some basketball?” Tyler questioned. Still looking rather glum, Bobby nodded his head. “how you doin Mr. Emry? Good to see you again.” “Good to see you too Ty. Now you two go off and have a good time. Bobby, listen to Ty….Who knows, maybe you’ll actually enjoy yourself,” Tom concludes and walks to the bleachers to take a seat.

“Hey everybody, this is Bobby. It looks like we’ve got a new member to the group! Bobby, this is Sarah, Mikey, Josh, and George,” Tyler says as he points to each individual in introduction. “Hi,” Bobby waves, still holding himself back. “Okay Bobby, right now we’re working on dribbling and passing drills. If we all just spread out into a circle, we can start.” All the children passed out. With the ball in hand, Tyler begins a demonstration of the drill. “Now what we’re goin to do is dribble once with our right hand, take the ball with both hands, and bounce it to the person on your right.” Tyler demonstrates by dribbling the ball once. He then sends the ball to George on one bounce.

George loved basketball. He had what has been clinically diagnosed as autism. At times, you would hardly know that anything was wrong with him. At times, he would get overanxious and excited. The extremes of his disorder involve hyperactive behavior.

“So Bobby, George is goin' to bounce the ball once, and then he’ll bounce the ball to you. You’ll follow by doin the same thing, and passin the ball on one bounce to Sarah. We’ll do this around the circle for the next few minutes,” Tyler concluded. “I want to shoot the ball!” Mikey exclaimed. “Mikey, I told you this earlier. There is no more to basketball than shootin. You need to learn to move down the court if you want to have an opportunity to shoot in the big game. We’ll do this drill for a little while, and then we’ll work on our shootin,” Tyler replies. “But I’m Michael Jordan! I’ll just jump across the whole court and dunk it in!” Mikey says in an accelerated fashion. “Mikey, trust me, even Michael Jordan works on his dribbin and passin skills.”

This drill went on for a series of minutes. Every now and then, Tyler altered the drill. One dribble turned into two dribbles. Then he integrated the use of both hands, and so on. After about twenty minutes, Tyler blew his whistle. The blowing of the whistle signified that it was time to rotate. One group that had been dribbling on the run, shifted and did the passing circle drill. Another group that had been shooting followed by dribbling on the run. It was now time for Tyler’s group to move to the basket and work on shooting.

Tyler showed the form that should be used for a proper shot, although most of the kids didn’t have the strength to get the ball even remotely close to the basket. They were working on lay-ups, standing as close to the basket as possible. Josh got a little too close. He shot the ball upward. It hit the bottom of the rim and came right back down, slamming violently on the top portion of his head. Josh went right to the ground. He was a tough one. We ran over to see if he was okay. Tyler extended his hand and lifted Josh to his feet. Surprisingly, Josh didn’t shed a tear. He took his head in a rapid motion. “Josh, are you okay?” Tyler questioned. “I’m ready to go back in coach. I can do this,” Josh responded. Right then, Josh took off running. Tyler’s eyes followed him. At full speed, Josh ran directly into the cushioned wall and knocked himself out again.

Josh had a more extreme case of autism. He is what doctors classify as a “head banger.” Some people that suffer from intensified autism are extremely vulnerable in some instances, and have a tendency to knock their head against solid objects. That is why Josh is required to wear a helmet at all times of the day.

It was now Bobby’s turn to shoot. He had seen the struggles that the others had endured in shooting the basketball. Despite their failures, Bobby wanted to succeed. He yearned for glory. “Bobby, all you have to do is bend your knees with the ball held high above your head.” Tyler demonstrates. “Then, you push off your feet as hard as you can. As you jump, push the ball in the air as hard as you can toward the square right above the basket. You can do this,” Tyler said, in an attempt to motivate his group’s latest addition.

Right then, thoughts began to race through Bobby’s mind. He recalled the other children throughout his short-live existence, and how cruel they were: all of the name-calling, and their aggressive acts toward him. He then thought about his mother. He had always dreamed of seeing her. The only reality he knew of her was a simple photograph. He had it displayed right next to his bed, and would kiss it every night before he would go to bed. Bobby condensed all of these thoughts and launched off the ground in a ferocious manner. Upon take-off, he released the ball. It rose into the air, as if almost being carried to its scheduled destination. Bobby’s feet returned to the hardwood floor, as he stood in a trance, eyes peeled on the floating object.

The ball deflected square against the backboard. It began to plummet, smashing itself against the front of the rim. From there, it rose up nearly a foot and a half above its objective and sunk into the hoop. Bobby’s eyes widened with amazement! Chills ran through his body as Tyler exclaimed, “Alright Bobby! You did it! Sweet shot! Slap me five!” Tyler crouched to his knees just as he had earlier, and raised his right hand into the air. With a glimmering smile across his face, Bobby lifted his hand and extended it toward Tyler’s. All the other kids within the group crowded around Bobby in a celebratory fashion, congratulating him on his accomplishment.

From the stands, Tom watched. He couldn’t help but smile, experiencing all of Bobby’s joy. A tear of happiness trickled down his cheek, as he was left speechless. Shortly thereafter, the clock reached the five o’clock mark, signifying that today’s clinic session had reached its end. All of the parents rose from their seats, and approached their child with jacket in hand. Participants, as well as their designated guardians, began heading toward the gym exits, all but Tom. He was still caught in the moment. He watched as Tyler continued to praise Bobby.

Tom slowly rose to his feet, and headed in their direction. “You see the big shot, Mr. Emry?” Tyler asked in a joyous fashion. “Absolutely. I wouldn’t have missed it for the world, “ Tom pauses and then continues, “You ready to go get some ice cream, kiddo.” “YEAH!” Bobby replied excitedly, still uplifted from his recent accomplishment. Bobby heads toward the exit, still recovering from the sudden rush of adrenaline. Tom and Tyler still stood in the middle of the gym. Tom extended his hand toward Tyler, who followed by doing the same. Tom shook his hand while saying, “Thank you Tyler, I really appreciate what you did for Bobby here today.” “Not a problem Mr. Emry, it really isn’t a big deal” Tyler replied. “No Tyler, it is. Thanks for all you’ve done here today. It was really something special. You have a good night, and we’ll see you later in the week.” Tom makes a waiving gesture in Tyler’s direction, as he follows Bobby out the door. Not a single word was exchanged between the two on their journey toward the car. They both entered the vehicle, and sat there for a moment in complete silence. They each knew that they had many ups and downs ahead of them. But at that particular moment, if ever so brief, they were both at the peak of the roller coaster.