You're welcome, Vel.
Here is another person's take on Kyle:
Handicapped youth crashes self-pity party
By Rick Woodson
Dec 01, 2004 - 08:07:19 am PST
http://www.tdn.com/articles/2004/12/01/sports/news03.prt
Like a lot of you out there, I like to complain. And too many times for too many of us, the proverbial glass is half empty and we don't even notice the other half.
Consider this a confession: I've spent too much of my life ---- i.e., wasted it ---- letting the little stuff get under my skin. There is too much of this, too little of that. The checkout lines are too long at the supermarket. I forgot to pick up a loaf of bread on the way home. Blah, blah, blah.
We complain about having to wake up so early instead of simply appreciating that we actually wake up at all ---- that is, we've lived to see another day. We gripe about our job, forgetting all those out there who would give anything just to have a job to gripe about. We moan and groan when we have to cut the grass again, never considering how many people long for the day when they could walk behind a lawn mower.
We get grumpy when our golf game goes bad, forgetting how wonderful it is just to be out there on a warm summer day, and how many people who are staring longingly out their window wishing they were on a golf course somewhere. Indeed, anywhere.
Well, dear readers, as of this week, I have sworn off complaining. There was a time ---- only a few days ago, actually ---- when I was pretty sure I would probably die sitting at a red light, where I would be fuming because I had to stop for another one.
It's a thing of the past, though, almost-ancient history. My middle name is longer "Impatience." Instead of grumbling that I have too much on my plate, I've decided to be grateful that I have a plate.
It finally occurred to me that having too much to do was far better than having absolutely nothing to do ---- or worse, be able to do nothing.
So what got into me? Why the revelation? Truth is, I have a new mentor. No, I haven't sat down with some wise, all-knowing 90-year-old philosophical guru from Tibet. Quite the opposite. My new hero is an 18-year-old freshman at the University of Georgia, a young man who has forgotten more about life than most of us will ever learn.
And a week ago, I'd never heard of him.
If there was ever anyone who could justify complaining that life or fate or whatever gave him a raw deal, it's Kyle Maynard. He was born with what he calls congenital amputation: He has no knees and no elbows ---- and no regrets or complaints.
I was channel surfing the other night and stopped when I saw Kyle on Larry King Live, a show I hadn't watched in years due to lack of interest. This kid, though, was fascinating, and after listening to Maynard for a half hour, I felt considerably smaller.
There was no, "Why me?" Sorry for himself? Hardly. If anything, he feels sorry for the rest of us who don't appreciate what we have.
Maynard practically shrugged like some guy with nothing more than a hangnail as he talked about his lot in life. He said his condition is "something that I've had to contend with my entire life. I don't know any different way. And it's really ---- it's blessed me in a lot of ways, too. And I think that people are really made by the adversity that they face in their life."
And right away, I thought of Latrell Sprewell's adversity of perhaps having to play pro basketball next season for only $10 million, when he has "a family to feed."
Maynard wrestled in high school and won roughly two-thirds of his matches. When he was younger, though, he could've thrown in the towel ---- that is, were he able to pick it up ---- and spent most of his time feeling sorry for himself because he had no hands, no feet and no victories. We'll never know if such a thought ever entered his mind, but I doubt it.
"I was a sixth-grader and I lost about the first 35 matches I ever competed in," he told King. "And wrestling is not a sport where you can blame a loss on someone else. I was getting my butt kicked 35 times, every time I went out there. And I knew by working harder than my opponents I was going to find that success."
Success? You tell me.
Kyle won the 2004 Espy Award for best athlete with a disability. He was presented the Courage Award for the World Sports Humanitarian Hall of Fame. He has been recognized by the National Wrestling Hall of Fame.
"I try to impact people, to let them know that at times of strife, sometimes you can't see any light at the end of the tunnel, but you have to keep fighting for it," he said. "And by using those principles of positive attitude, hard work, no excuses and not fearing challenges, that's how you find success."
I'm sure there are athletes and others out there with similar stories of courage and determination, but a Kyle Maynard is as rare as a pearl in an oyster. He still wrestles for a club team at Georgia, he is a motivational speaker and has modeled for Abercrombie and Fitch.
Oh yeah, he also types 50 words a minute.
"I think that I'm blessed by God, in the sense that I have the opportunity to reach out to people," he said. "I love the opportunity that I have to try to impact people's lives. I think that the greatest compliment anybody can pay anybody else is when they tell you that you've had an impact on their life ---- when adversity is staring you in the face, that's when you find out what you're made of."
It's pretty obvious what Kyle Maynard is made of. I just wish he could bottle it and make it available to the rest of us.
Rick Woodson is a former sports editor of The Daily News. He can be reached at
rwoodson@rochester.rr.com