Just one play, coach... just one play

I don’t write as much as I want about my son’s experiences as a young Autistic person. I lack the confidence that I can consistently respect his experience. It is impossible to accurate describe someone else’s inner world as a third party to it. At the same time I want him to control his own narrative as he ages. Some day he may read these things I publish and I don’t wish him to adopt my ill-informed, biased or simply wrong perspectives on who he is or what he is about.

I can talk about my experiences as a father of a young Autistic person though. It is universal among parents that your children’s struggles, challenges and failures are yours. You cannot do it for them, and you often cannot be there to head off mistakes or injuries. Watching my son try to navigate a social world that is almost exactly wrong for him is painful. School is heartbreaking sometimes. The noise, the visual field mess that happens in any large group of people moving about life, the number of people breaking the structures that he needs to cling too in order to survive… he is a tougher person than I ever have been.

It’s not all bad though. I am proud beyond words at his “stick-to-itness”, his raw grit. When things go wrong, he recovers, he comes up with a plan, and he goes back the next day and puts in another hard days efforts. Long after I think I might have given up at his age, my son is back at it trying to get the education he needs for his future life plans.

This year, seventh grade, he announced he wanted to try out for football. American style or “gridiron” for those outside the colonies. I was terrified. I could list nearly a dozen things I immediately worried about. My son has a lot going for him, however coordination is a struggle and unexpected physical contact (gentle or otherwise) can trigger a strong reaction. However I will not stop him from trying and experiencing the world on his terms.

Fast forward several weeks into the season and suddenly there is my young Bear on the battlefield. He is crouched opposite the other teams center. His job is to plug that hole and not let anything through. Hold the line.

The quarterback calls the count. The center hikes the ball. Charlie gets his hands inside and stays low. The line held. In that moment, he was the line. The entire play lasted about eight seconds. And that was it.

Just one play.

After that play he came off the field. He was smiling so big it was bursting his helmet apart. He knew he did everything right. He executed like he was supposed to. He was a very real football player now, and nobody could take that back.

Over the next couple of weeks he got more play time. At this point he is rotated in regularly enough that I think he is playing up to his endurance, like the other kids. I don’t know if this joyfull feeling will ever break off of the rocket it puts me on, seeing him out there.

I know how hard he has worked to get here. I understand that there are challenges upon challenges that he overcame, and I am aware that there are things he struggled with that he may never share with me. He just kept putting his feet down to get it done. He is the definition of the concept of grit and fortitude.

In the interim, he has grown so much off of the field. He is a bit more determined about things. He is more confident. His coordination is vastly improved. He has a team, and he knows they have his back. On and off the field.

The other players have totally blown me away. They support Charlie without pandering to him. They have learned about places he has challenges and help him improve without looking down on him. I’ve seen various other kids working with him at practice, and it gives me hope for the world as a whole. These young adults are able to work as a family, different in what they bring to the field but equal in dignity. It’s almost like they are being taught that their peers are human, and that means a certain standard applies.

Last, but most important: Thank you Coaches. It would have been easy to let a kid like Charlie show up to practice and sort of ride the pine. They took the harder road. They made sure their program was accessible and safe. They made sure he trained with the intent of being on the field. They sent him out there for that first play, and I know they had to be holding their breath just like I was. So much could have gone the wrong way. Football is a violent sport. If Charlie wasn’t well prepared he could get seriously hurt. At some point they needed to trust their own expertise though.

The proof of their quality as leaders, well that was visible to me in just one play.