And Now for Something to Brighten the Day

I realized something yesterday. I was going over my last few posts and realized how negative they were. Whether it was dissecting a cheating and unfair college football system or putting parents who yell at referees in their place, there has not been a lot of "happy" coming from Bronco Chase lately. So, in honor of that, I wish to brighten things up a little bit and attempt to make myself as well as all of you feel really good.
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Victory in Silence

As Ken Anderson walked off the court, he knew that he had been part of a magical ride where him and his teammates had made history, accomplishing something that had never been done before. His United States basketball team had won the gold medal at the Olympic games held in Christchurch, New Zealand. Standing at 6'10", 250 pounds, Anderson was the clear vocal and physical leader of his squad. Yet, even with all that they had achieved, he knew that their victory would not get as much recognition as would those done by other, more famous teams. You see, Ken Anderson and the rest of his 1989 squad, were all deaf.

Anderson grew up in the small, sleepy town of Gooding, Idaho. The year was 1965 and there was not much to be excited about in that part of Southern Idaho. In fact, there hadn't been for a while. But as the boy grew up, there were two things about him that had his parents and the rest of the community very curious. One, he was incredibly tall for his age. As a freshman in high school, he was 6'7". Two, he was unable to hear out of either ear, something that caused a great deal of strife and frustration for himself and his family.

Parenting a deaf child is something that no one is prepared for. It is unexpected. Fortunately for the Anderson's, aide was close by. As strange as it sounds, in Gooding, the State of Idaho had opened an expansive school designed specifically for deaf and blind children. It had been in service since 1906 (with many upgrades and new buildings since then, of course), and Anderson enrolled. At ISDB (Idaho School for the Deaf and Blind), he fit in and was able to catch up to the academic level of the other students very quickly. He, in fact, was a very smart kid and had learned American Sign Language at a young age. This specialized school allowed him to be taught in sign language. All was well for him and his family.

Being intelligent was not the only thing that he had going for him. By his freshman year Anderson had found that when he was out on the basketball court, he was head and shoulders above everybody, both in terms of his stature and his ability to play. People started noticing as well. All eyes were on him while in his first two years he guided his high school team (known as the ISDB Raptors) to a level off success that the academy had never seen before. People from all over Idaho were discussing Anderson's greatness.

When his junior year rolled around, he felt comfortable enough with his academics to transfer to a standard school. Now at a staggering 6'10", Anderson enrolled as a Gooding Senator where he not only continued to raise his level of academia, but excelled even higher in the sport that he loved. His team rose to become the top ranked squad, undefeated, until the first game of the state tournament when he unfortunately broke his ankle. During his senior year, the Senators were number one in the state yet again. He scored an average of over 30 points a game as his team dominated all competition. Anderson earned a scholarship from Ricks College in nearby Rexburg, Idaho. The boy who at one point, seemed like he had nothing going for him, was now a touted college basketball recruit.

While at Ricks, Anderson led the Vikings to the Junior College National Championships in Hutchison, Kansas. Along the way, they beat the College of Southern Idaho Eagles, stopping their run of 18 straight junior college titles. They finished in 6th place out of 16 teams that year. At the height of his amateur career, he decided to serve a full-time, two year mission for his church.

in 1989, a while after Anderson returned, he enrolled at Gallaudet University in Washington D.C. To quote their mission statement, "Gallaudet University, federally chartered in 1864, is a bilingual, diverse, multicultural institution of higher education that ensures the intellectual and professional advancement of deaf and hard of hearing individuals through American Sign Language and English." It was the perfect place for him to be. He led the Bison to two championships in the Metropolitan Washington Conference. At that time his amazing college career was over, but his journey was still in its prime.

Both during and after school, Anderson played basketball for the American Athletic Association of the Deaf (AAAD), where he was a perennial league all star. He averaged 12 rebounds per game with the AAAD, finishing with 443 of them in just 37 games. When the Americans won the gold medal at the 1989 Deaflympics in New Zealand, he became the first player from ISDB to accomplish such a feet.

For a man who has had so much success, coming from such humble, meager, and even difficult circumstances, Ken Anderson has achieved "legend" status in the Northwest. His name can be found in record books, halls of fame, rosters of championship teams, and in the hearts and minds of all people who have had the privilege and pleasure to meet him and work with him. Anderson now resides in the place where it all started for him; Gooding, Idaho. He is currently the head boys basketball coach for the ISDB Raptors, where it is clear that he is giving back to the community and people that gave him so much, at exactly the precise time that he needed it.

Blame the Guys in the Striped Shirts!

In a small town in rural Southern Idaho, two basketball teams prepare to battle it out on the court for conference bragging rights and supremacy. The stands are filled with nervous parents like you as you watch your children play, cheering and urging them to make a shot, grab a rebound, or get a steal. It is every parents' desire to see their offspring have success in sports and with every other endeavor that they may pursue. The sport is not played at the highest, most athletic level in Idaho, but that does not demean the support that the community provides to their local high school teams.

As with any athletic event where the stakes are high, the atmosphere is electric, exciting, and ready to erupt as soon as the first great play is made. A whistle blows and the ball is tossed into the air, signaling the beginning of the contest. As the teams go back and forth, giving everything they have, there is only one nuisance that always finds its way onto the court - the referees. Everybody hates them! It is clear that they are missing obvious fouls and making terrible calls in a clear attempt to ruin your child's team's chances of winning the game. They are even worse when your team is losing. You let them hear it, screaming at them and berating them every chance you get, all while a purple vain pops out of your forehead. You make sure that you say "Come on ref! Call it both ways!" as they run by the area where you are sitting. Don't forget to throw in a "Travel!" or "That's a foul! How could you miss that?!" whenever you get the opportunity. "Three seconds! Come on, make the call!" is also a good one to scream incessantly. If you think your child was fouled or impeded upon in anyway during the game, you really explode. "Get him off! He's pushing him all over the court! Are you blind?!" They have to be the worse refs you have ever seen in your life.


And of course, if your team loses, it is clearly the referee's fault. They were out there to make sure the victory went the other way. You let everybody around you know how unfair and terrible the referees were that night. Your wife and children hear it all the way home, including some choice language usually reserved for Martin Scorsese films. It's all you think about as you lay in bed and it finds its way to work with you the next day. You make sure all your coworkers are aware, even to the point of repeating yourself multiple times to a few of them. Eventually the atrocities of the night before work their way out of your mind as other matters require your attention and focus. That is, until a few days later when your child's team takes it to the court again and there is another pair of morons wearing stripes out there.

Never mind the fact that you have never refereed anything in your life other than an impromptu living room floor wrestling match between two of your children. Who cares if the game looks completely different from on the court than it does from in the stands? You are easily able to see fouls, travels, and all violations from your seat clear across the court a lot better than the refs can, who are right in front of everything when it happens. Even if the other team is more talented and better coached than your child's team, it's always someone else's fault. This is high school basketball, where kids play for fun, but you go ahead and treat it like the NBA finals. You go ahead and forget the fact that those two referees are people and might have children too. They aren't any different than you.

By the way, you look like this guy