I’ve been hesitant to write this particular column, because I’m very concerned about this coming across as sour grapes, and nothing could be farther from the truth. Not a day goes by that I don’t give thanks to God above for the privilege of being a sports writer, and for every reader we at the Times-Union enjoy, whether the paper is read at a kitchen table, front porch, living room or with an elbow on a roll of tissue. The other part is in order to speak freely about this, I need to come clean to a certain degree, and that deals with my own self-perception. A lot of folks have it worse off than me, and a big part of what I deal with is, in fact, self-inflicted. But I do have a voice here, where others may not feel that way. (Even though we publish more than our fair share of letters to the editor). I’m rarely the first to arrive for a ball game, and my issue is that I have a hard time getting where I need to go. Yes, I’m fat. That’s a big part of the problem. But I also have a knee injury that, until a doctors appointment two years ago, I didn’t know I had and dates back close to 40 years. When I was a kid, only the military spoke in initials, and I had no idea I had an ACL. I get to where I need to go, and get done what I need to do, thanks in no small part to the kindness of darn near everybody. I cannot think of even one case where a coach wouldn’t talk to me because I couldn’t get to them, and in a lot of cases if the coach knows I’m there, I’m sought out after a game. People have given me favor after favor, whether it’s a cart ride or bringing me a bottle of water, and my heart overflows with gratitude. What I’m suggesting is an adjustment to the parking lots for game events, where regular spaces are, for the night, designated as handicapped parking. Last week I attended my kid’s first track meet at a school I won’t name in this space; if you need to know that bad you could probably figure it out. The school is not a member of any conference we normally cover here, but one we do see in tournaments and non-conference play. There was a spiffy new entrance to the football stadium/track directly behind the home-side stands, with handicapped parking about 60 yards away. But I found a spot right next to the fancy new wrought iron gate. The gate was locked, and I had to hike to the corner of the stadium to pay my admission, then back to the stands. What really teed me off at that point was discovering the event where my kid was going to be was on the opposite side of the field, and I’d have been better off parking on the other side of the campus. So I waddle back to my car, and go to the other side to see the last of the discus competition. Then the student-athletes, including my offspring, packed up all their stuff and moved back into the stadium area to throw the shot put. By the time I got back, what was left of the good spaces was gone, and I said “screw it.” If spaces near a gate were set aside, even for the night, folks like me could get a lot closer to the door and might be inclined to show up a little more often. I’d think the cost would be fairly minimal; some five-gallon buckets, something to keep the signs from blowing away, some pipe and the signs. The hard part would be making the placement of the signs part of the pre-game preparation routine, and getting them put back once the game is over. Listen, I’m going to do whatever I have to do to 1) see my kids do what they do, whether its a competition or not, and 2) do my job well. This isn’t about me. I can’t be the only one with a handicapped placard who pulls in to a high school parking lot and begins to wonder “how in the world am I going to pull this off?” I know I’m gonna get it done. My parents went to a high school to see their granddaughter (my niece) perform. They knew the hours she put in to get to the point of earning a spot on a high school floor. They wanted desperately to see her and be a part of the triumph of just getting to that point in life. But they turned around and left. The five handicapped spots were taken, so they missed out on their granddaughter in front of a crowd of 800 people. I’ve now walked a mile in someone else’s shoes, and understand more thoroughly than I’d really like what the challenges are. For me, the help I get is more than enough. I’m respectfully asking those who have influence in this area to take a look at what’s in place, and what can be done to make things better. Please.
