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But then … my gentle goofball is in the right place at the right time. He’s passed the ball and he goes for it. He dribbles. It’s like the sea parts. He’s gunning for the basket. All the parents – on both sides – are shouting. Parents I’ve never met are crying out his name! “Go Ryan go, go!” He has a clear run to the basket. He shoots. He scores.
The crowd goes wild.
But it’s not over yet. The kid’s on a roll. And there’s no one near him. He gets the rebound, he dribbles again. Didn’t he just travel? He shoots, he scores again. Other kids come closer, the opposing team is now there. But they’re just standing there. Watching. A kid from the opposing team catches the ball. He’s the tallest on the team, and the most talented. He could throw that ball straight over my son’s head. But instead, without hesitation, he tosses the ball to my pipsqueak, with a smile that says, “Show us what you’ve got, little guy.”
My son smiles back, shoots again, and scores again.
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The crowd is practically on its feet for my little pipsqueak. My daughter is sobbing next to me, and I am breathing so hard I wonder if I will hyperventilate. My boy is looking at me with wonder. He’s a star!
But not because he’s the newest child basketball prodigy.
The ref ignored the travel. The opposing team gave no defence. My son’s team mates didn’t beg for the pass. And their parents didn’t shout, “come around, come in.”
My number 57 was a top scorer of the match. Because a group of 12-year-old boys could see that, in that moment, the score didn’t matter. Defence, winning, pride were not the most important things. With no one telling them to be kind, and cut the little guy a break these boys made a judgment call.
That, watching this little guy succeed at something meant that everyone won.
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My son has struggled every day for as long as he can remember. These boys didn’t know that. They just reacted in the moment and gave him something no law, policy or funding agreement ever could.
And that is why, I feel confident about sending my son – my vulnerable little boy, for whom every day is a challenge – into this new world. Because these boys will one day be men. And having watched this silly little basketball game, I feel certain they will be different.
Tamara Walsh is a contributor based in Brisbane.
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