Sports Star

One of the pleasures of cab driving is the rare encounter with a passenger who stays in mind long after the trip. For all the right reasons.

Early in yesterday’s shift I accepted a radio job from a western suburbs Rehabilitation Centre. The job description directed me to the Spinal Unit. Great, I thought. Just my luck to carry a spinal injury patient recovering from an accident. They probably require an ambulance rather than my bone-shaking rattler.

However on entering the facility I was greeted by a young bloke in a wheelchair and cradleing a tennis racket. Cool, I thought. Not only can I drive at normal speed but his unique sports-chair indicated he was no ordinary ‘wheelie’. An interesting passenger, no less.

Gone are the days of clunky, heavy wheelchairs. Modern chairs now consist of lightweight alloys and quick-release wheels. This bloke’s sports-chair was a cut-down and hotted-up version featuring splayed wheels, minimal seat support and a dolly wheel in front. He was on-board within a minute and the chair de-wheeled on the back seat.

‘So you’re a tennis player ?’, I asked after heading off. ‘Well, I’ve only just started playing’, he bashfully admitted, ‘but I’m getting better. My coach reckons I can maybe make the London Olympics’. Wheelchair tennis is played on regular sized courts with the only difference being two bounces of the ball are allowed.

At 22 years of age my passenger revealed that champion wheelchair tennis players peak at around thirty years and beyond. His coach is an ex-Olympian wheelchair player so I figured the recommendation was sound.

With obvious pride the young fella revealed he also played rugby league in the Sydney wheelchair competition. Recently he’d received awards for the highest try and points scorer in the 2005 season. Additionally he’d represented Australia in basketball at the Helsinki Games, or maybe it was hockey which he also played.

'So you’ve obviously got superior eye-hand co-ordination to most other wheelies’, I suggested. ‘Why is that ?’. ‘Probably because I’ve been in a chair most of my life’, he replied, ‘compared to other guys who have accidents later in life’. Here he was referring to paraplegics, disabled from the waist down. I noted his frame, whilst fit and powerful, was smaller than that of most wheelchair sportsmen.

‘So what happened’, I asked, ‘you have an accident ?’. ‘Yeh, at four’, he replied. ‘I got hit by a truck’. ‘Mate, a truck’, I exclaimed. ‘You’re lucky to be alive !’. ‘Well it wasn’t a big truck’, he said, ‘More like that one up there’, and he pointed to a 4 tonne Pantech ahead in traffic. ‘The driver never stopped’, he continued, ‘but they got his number’.

He related this in a matter-of-fact manner with neither rancour nor bitterness. For him, it just was. Along with a gently disarming smile, the young fella exuded an aura of charm and tranquillity, the perfect tonic for a hardened cabbie.

‘But you know, I’m kinda lucky’, he continued, ‘cause most of my life this is what I’m used to. But for normal people who have accidents as adults, it’s much harder to get used to chairs. For me, it’s all I really know'. He fell silent for a bit as I negotiated a major roundabout, then quietly added, ‘It’s funny though. I can still remember swimming at the local pool when I was three or four’.

'So what's the plan’, I asked. ‘Are you going to concentrate on tennis or stay with team sports ?’. ‘Tennis definitely has more opportunities, with overseas travel and stuff’, he said. ‘Plus there’s a chance I might get some sponsorship. Well I hope to - it’s pretty expensive catching taxis to training’.

Here I thought to myself, if I was Kerry Packer - before he died that is - I’d immediately write the guy a six-figure sponsorship deal. Fuck it, make it seven. But unfortunately, all I could offer right then was a modest fare discount.

On departure I encouraged him to set up his own blog, given he was proficient in HTML. Plus I gave him my phone number for future bookings and fare alleviation. Jimmy, any-time mate. Meeting you was the highlight of my night. You're a star. Cheers, Adrian.

Comments

[Ian]

Yep, people like that sure put it all in perspectic for ya! I broke my neck once - just the once :-)) - and recovered fully, but I snuck out of the hospital when it was my turn to leave - the other poor bastards are still laid on their backs somewhere :-( There's always someone worse of than you are and I find that an extremely powerful motivator for when the clouds gather now and then.

[stackja1945]

Guts! Deserves to go far!

[Amy]

Wow! What an awesome guy. It's people like him who encourage me to STFU and deal with my lot - I could have things worse.

[joann]

You met a nice young man. Thanks for the story.

[phil]

Adrian - another damn good story, well told.

[Huggies]

It is good read about these people who pick up the pieces and get on with life and enjoy it.

[Chris Best]

It's funny how you can go into a day (or job in your case) and make presumptions about how it is going to turn out. And then you come out of it with a totally different perspective on life. People like this athlete really give us food for thought on what we sometimes consider a shitty life.