Mondays are my day off but there was no way I was going to miss this. The gymnasium was absolutely packed. On one side were the parents and supporters of the team from the community, sitting in neat, polite lines. The other side was the group home side. Bellowing, colorful, in constant movement, flowing with excitement. I squeezed in to a space with the boys and staff from my house. We did our usual high-fives and special handshakes.
The group home side of the gymnasium couldn’t be more proud. We were already cheering and chanting, “We will, we will ROCK YOU!” Thump, thump clap! I looked around and saw that several of us had come on our day off. Administrators, therapists, supervisors, all of the boys from every unit; we were all packed in the bleachers. Some had brought food and snacks and were passing it around. It was a community atmosphere, carnival-like in its excitement. Very rarely do we have these kinds of events when we can all be proud of the organization. And yet, here we were, each of us feeling some sort of contribution to our team’s success.
It was time for the tip-off. The two teams lined up in front of each other to shake hands and the contrasts were more than stark. One of our boys had a mohawk. Some had large and unusually shaped heads. One was fat. Most were about a head taller than the other team. Any one of them could have poopy pants at any moment. They looked like a battle-tested gang of rag-tags with sloppy, untucked uniforms. What was really great to see is that they actually looked focused and ready to play.
The other team? Skinny little blond white kids, visibly frightened. They knew they were about to get thumped, and hard.
The ref tossed the ball up, and Randall, being the tallest boy on the court, tipped it and the ball landed in Apollo’s hands. Our team ran into position to set up the offense. This is where Apollo should have passed the ball to Darnell, the point guard.
But he didn’t. He dribbled the ball upcourt while Darnell was running behind him.
Darnell was yelling, “Here! Pass! I’m open!”
Apollo was ignoring Darnell, shimmying and shaking not only his defender, but Darnell too. Apollo dribbled the ball around the perimeter of the 3 point line, not passing to anyone, and dribbled all the way around it again.
Darnell was screaming now, hands held out, “Gimme the damn ball! The hell you doin?”
Apollo’s defender had backed off now and it was just Apollo and Darnell at mid-court, at the 3-point line. Darnell was now trying to steal the ball from Apollo. Apollo just kept running in circles, eluding Darnell, keeping the ball away from him. Darnell kept reaching, grabbing, flailing, leaping and missing Apollo and the ball.
Apollo was smiling all the while, “I tol’ you! I tol’you!”
Darnell was in a panic of embarrassment and rage. He knew he looked like a fool trying to steal the ball from his own teammate.
He screamed, “I mo beat yo muthafuckin ass!” Darnell tackled Apollo and threw him to the floor. There was a split second of jaw-dropping silence as Darnell proceeded to pummel Apollo in the face and chest while he was down.
The entire crowd emptied the bleachers, including myself. There was complete mayhem as staff and administrators tried to break up the melee. Some of the other boys who were in the bleachers began to fight too. There was food, boys, members of the community, referees, staff – all seemingly flying through the air at once. I saw some parents of the other team’s boys usher them out of the gym.
All the staff including the ones who weren’t working that night went into their crisis management mode. Some were proning boys, some pushing boys through the exits, everyone screaming. The entire court was covered in riotous bodies.
I was trying to find Apollo. I waded through the fights and the parents and the coaches to the middle of the court. I saw four staff proning Darnell, who was bleeding from the lip and livid, screaming and raving mad. Several staff had pulled Apollo, who was still holding the ball, toward the exit.
I said, “Apollo! You almost got yourself killed! You alright? What were you thinking?”
Apollo was hyper-ventillating and crying and smiling all at the same time. His face was covered in tears and his nose was bleeding.
He said between sharp breaths, “I tol’ you, Stokie! I tol’ you! I’m better. I want go to the house. I want call my mama. I’m better and I proved it. I jes want call my mama and tell her…jes want call my mama…”
Final score by forfeit: 0-1.
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