Ducks shine for plucky eighth-grader

By Bob Welch (Register Guard - Eugene, OR)

March 8, 2005

We waited and waited, we fans of University of Oregon men's basketball. At some point, The Turnaround had to come.

At some point, this spiral toward the Pac-10 cellar had to stop. At some point, something had to happen to redeem a season of despair.

Now, in hindsight, I realize The Turnaround did happen — at least in the mind of one 14-year-old Eugene boy. And in mine.

Last August, I wrote about Bryant King, calling him the greatest athlete I've ever known. An eighth-grader at Monroe Middle School, he skateboards and plays football, basketball, soccer — you name it. And does so with one leg — and wild abandon.

He was born with caudal regression syndrome, a disorder affecting the legs and lower intestines. He's on his second kidney transplant. Has had a spinal fusion. And has broken his leg four times.

After learning he'd never seen a game at Mac Court, I invited him to join me for Oregon-Winthrop on Dec. 22. My third-balcony, cable-vision seats weren't exactly ideal for a boy with one leg; with no elevator, just getting there requires 72 stair steps.

He said he'd love to go. So on game night, we walked a half-mile from Patterson Street, through the Pioneer Cemetery, to Mac Court. Bryant has a metal prosthesis and uses a brace. "Can I carry you?" I asked. He weighs only 68 pounds.

"Naw," he said.

Once inside, Bryant grabbed the stair railing with one hand and, metal cane in the other, started hopping up the steps. Midway up, I offered again to carry him.

"I'm fine," he said.

When we arrived at the seats, I was about to apologize for the cables that obscured our vision when he said, "Whoa. What a view!"

Then he saw coach Ernie Kent in front of the Oregon bench. "After the game," he said matter-of-factly, "I'd like to talk to Ernie."

"That'll be difficult," I said. "He has to talk to the team, do the postgame interview with (KUGN's) Jerry Allen, you know. He's a busy guy."

"He'll talk to me," Bryant said. "I kinda know him. I saw him at Copel-and's once. And he remembers me from when I played in a wheelchair basketball game here against the Ducks."

I didn't say anything. This is a kid – he's had 20 major surgeries – who's known his share of disappointments in life; he didn't need me offering false hope.

After the game – Oregon won, 71-56 — we headed down. Counting a trip at halftime, Bryant hopped up and down 432 steps with no complaint. We found a strategic position near the court and waited for Kent to return from the locker room for his interview.

"Here he comes," I said.

At 6-foot-5, Kent glanced right and left to acknowledge well-wishers; at 4-foot-1½, Bryant wasn't even in the same airspace as this guy. "Hey, Ernie," said Bryant, his head tilted up like a satellite dish.

Kent nodded briefly as he hung a right and strode purposefully toward Allen at midcourt — just as I'd feared. Bryant just watched him.

Suddenly, Kent stopped, slowly did a 180-degree turn and walked straight toward Bryant. He bent over. He looked the boy in the eye.

"Hey," said Kent, "don't I know you from somewhere?"

"Copeland's," Bryant said. "And I saw you at that wheelchair basketball game."

"That's right," Kent said. "Sure, I remember you. So what do you want for Christmas?"

"A new basketball hoop."

Kent nodded with a slightly smug look on his face. "Good choice," he said. "Very good choice."

He then gave Bryant a high-five and was gone. Back to the spotlight, where it's all about the important stuff, the wins and losses.

But Bryant King knows better. And so do I. Because when I look back at the 2004-05 season, I'll quickly forget UO's record. But I'll always remember the look on Bryant King's face the moment he saw it:

The Turnaround.