City’s Hottest Basketball Team Truly On A Roll

No office betting pools celebrate this brand of March Madness.

Inane ESPN mouthcaster Dick Vitale won’t shriek “Prime time, bay-beeee” at this Final Four. Even the most die-hard hoops fan won’t give a jump shot that the National Wheelchair Basketball championships will be waged in Nashville this Friday and Saturday.

Or that after 24 years of sweat and effort, lowly Spokane’s St. Luke’s Cyclones have finally made it to the big show.

The lack of limelight doesn’t bother these Cinderellas. They couldn’t be more pumped if they were playing in the NBA finals.

“We will shoot with anybody in the country,” hollers player/coach John Rees to his fellow Cyclones, who have circled their wheelchairs under a basket at the YMCA gym.

Rees, 47, has played all 24 years with the Cyclones. Like a Pat Riley or a Phil Jackson, Rees is a true general of the hardwood. The retired teacher studies tapes of opponents and constantly works on game plans, plays and positive thinking. “We’re gonna win this thing, my friends,” he says.

The Cyclones invited me to a practice the other night. The team left Spokane Wednesday morning on their improbable quest for a national title.

Nobody expected the Cyclones to make it this far. Many teams in their division enjoy big budgets, thanks to pro sponsors like the Chicago Bulls, Charlotte Hornets or Utah Jazz.

“It’s no fluke we’re in the Final Four,” says Lew Tomlinson, 44, who has played with the team for 22 years. “The excitement is beyond our wildest dreams. We’re going to the dance.”

The Cyclones, with a record of 22-3, are a study in courage and character. The nine players have made the most out of the various afflictions that life has thrown at them.

Rees had polio. Tomlinson lost a foot while working at a grain elevator. Others, like Dave Mollers and Brent King, were paralyzed in accidents. Paul Hill’s fragile, arthritic knees qualify him as a wheelchair player.

But I’m not writing this to solicit a wad of sympathy. Or to raise money, although the Cyclones are $1,000 in the hole in paying for their trip.

I’m writing this simply to tell you about some amazingly skilled athletes Spokane should know about.

Anyone who thinks wheelchair basketball is not a real sport should consider the following tale: Some years ago, the Cyclones invited the University of Idaho varsity men’s basketball team up for a game. “It was a year they had a championship team,” Tomlinson recalls.

Being gracious hosts, the Cyclones furnished the chairs and spotted their lanky guests 50 points.

The Cyclones smoked them. The shell-shocked Vandals never returned.

The complexities of maneuvering a wheelchair transforms James Naismith’s game into a cross between basketball and a Grand Prix road race.

Talk about fast breaks. A strong driver can blitz from one end of the court to the other in a couple of seconds. Normal game contact is a series of mini-car wrecks.

As if basketball wasn’t difficult enough, imagine trying to pump a ball through a 10-foot-high hoop from a sitting position.

Tomlinson is the Cyclone’s Michael Jordan. He averaged 32 points in the Cyclones’ last two games.

Since disabilities come in all varieties, wheelchair players are rated in a 1-through-3 class system.

A paraplegic like Mollers is a Class 1 player. Tomlinson, physically whole save for the missing foot, is a Class 3.

The trick is to put the five best players on the floor without exceeding a combined rating of 12. This year, the Cyclones found that perfect balance. They are a rare bunch that comes along only once in a great while.

“This team knows how to play the game,” Tomlinson says. “Hey Spokane, be proud. You’ve got some guys going to the Final Four.”

, DataTimes