Home > Sport
Wheelers on the warpath
Lack of fans, funding only handicaps
still hampering Harlequins
By Jeremy Johnson
jjohn308@mscd.edu
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| Harlequin high-pointer Chance Sumner
searches for an open player downcourt as Adam Scaturro
attempts to defend the pass during a practice session
at the Auraria Event Center gymnasium Oct. 4. The Harlequins
were sharpening their skills before heading to Las
Vegas with hopes of improving on their No. 5 national
ranking. Several members of the team aspire to represent
the United States in the Paralympic games of the 2008
Olympics in Beijing. |
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Focused, quiet and hunched over in chairs resembling the renegade
machines of Mad Max, the Denver Harlequins wheelchair rugby team
rolled onto the court for a little four-on-four team practice
Oct. 4 at the Auraria Events Center.
Newcomers and seasoned veterans
alike – informally called
murderballers – began talking smack, crowding and pinning
each other in steely scrums. Though it was just a practice event,
the intensity in the players’ eyes suggested it meant more.
“Whistle,” shouted one player while the rest converged into
a clanging frenzy awaiting the inbound pass.
“Wheelchair rugby is just like a speed chess match,” Chance
Sumner said. “If one guy does one thing, you have to counter-move.”
Sumner
is one of the best murderballers in the nation. Along with rugby
veteran and Harlequins’ captain Jason Reiger,
Sumner was part of the recent national gold-medal U.S. team in
the Wheelchair Rugby World Championships in New Zealand. In a
sport that ranks players’ skill level from .5 to 3.5, Sumner
is a 3.0.
Wheelchair rugby guarantees parity on the floor by limiting
each team’s skill levels. A team may have two or three
players with 3 or 3.5 skill level on the sideline, but teams
are only
permitted to start eight total points among the four players
on the floor at all times.
The objective of the game is as old
as sport itself – one
ball, two teams and two goals. A team begins play with an inbound
pass from the opposite end of the court, then attempts to drive
down the court using a series of blocks, picks and passes to
penetrate two cones on the far end representing the opposing
goal.
“The game is all mental, really,” Adam Scaturro
said. “You
can beat people without having too much speed. It’s just
physics and geometry.”
The defensive strategy of the game
is the basic geometric concept taught in high school that the
fastest way between two points
is a straight line. The better defensive players find that line
quickly and propel themselves at the perfect angle in hopes of
blocking the ball-handler.
If the line is correct, then the laws
of physics take over. Chairs collide with loud, cracking sounds.
Players are thrown from their
seats and would be propelled out of their chairs altogether if
not for seatbelts securing them to their chairs. Occasionally,
players are knocked over onto their backs, where they lie and
wait to be turned back over. In most cases, the player is set
back on their wheels and the game quickly resumes.
“You’re going to get bumps and bruises,” Josh
Stapen said. “It’s competitive, but I think we’re
more competitive because we’re all disabled and we have
a chip on our shoulder. We all have something to prove.”
The
Harlequins may have a chip on their shoulder, but the biggest
chip they carry is the constant struggle to maintain a team.
Since the sport is limited to quadriplegics, so too is their
talent pool.
And since they are the only team in the state, the
Harlequins must travel hundreds, even thousands of miles to compete
with
other national and international teams, straining their finances.
"I can’t say enough about (wheelchair rugby) really,” Stapen
said. “It gives me something to strive for and it gives
me passion. But I’d love to see more sponsors for it.”
Skill
levels vary just as individual injuries vary. While a number
of athletes are disabled due to accidents that resulted in spinal
damage, others have been disabled from birth by diseases such
as cerebral palsy.
“When you have an injury, you have a lot of things taken
from you,” said Regier, whose neck was broken in a car
accident 10 years ago. “But rugby is something I could
compete at in a high level. It’s given me a lot of independence
and it’s allowed me to expand on what I thought was possible.”
Joy
Roudeau is one of the Harlequin’s victims of cerebral
palsy and one of the few female members of the co-ed team.
“(Wheelchair rugby) definitely opened my eyes to the capabilities
of what I can do as a handicapped person,” Roudeau said. “Anything
you can do able-bodied you can do in a wheelchair,” she
said.
That theme is a common one among these athletes. The Harlequins
have the same goals and drive as other athletes. They strive
to win and to achieve success on the highest, international platform.
When they take to the court, they have only one objective in
mind – winning.
“Being disabled is an overwhelming situation to deal with
all at once,” Sumner said. “It’s like being reborn,
and it’s good to find something that you can focus your
energy on.”
“For the time that you’re out there in your chair, you’re
not thinking about anything else except winning and playing,” he
said. |