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Everyone loved Jimmy, our eighth grader. He was born with diastrophic dysplasia, a form of short-limbed dwarfism, so we knew he would never play in the NBA. But Jimmy seemed unaware of his condition.

His dream was always to make the team. Since sixth grade, he had tried out for every sport. He never survived the first cut.

“I’ll make it next time", he would smile, while his mother and I hid tears.

“Maybe we should refuse to sign," my wife said when Jimmy brought home a parental consent card for basketball. But we feared that this would only trade one hurt for another, so we put our names on the card. I thank God to this day that we did.

Two weeks later, Jimmy exploded into our living room. “I made the team," he squealed.

We had doubts, but he produced a handwritten letter: “Jimmy’s enthusiasm inspires our team," it said. “See you at our games. Sincerely, Coach Erickson." 

We drove to that first game with trepidation. What could our son do that would not humiliate him? We arrived early and snuggled together in the back row.

The team appeared and Jimmy positioned himself beneath the basket. He caught balls that dropped through the hoop and dished them back to the outside shooters with words of encouragement. He looked great in his new uniform.

During play, Jimmy sat next to Mr. Erickson and made notes for the coach. They chatted and laughed, and, when our team won, Mr. Erickson hugged Jimmy like athletes do when they win, then they high-fived.

Mr. Erickson sought us out.

“Jimmy’s incredible," he said, “the most enthusiastic kid I’ve had. His teammates love him." The coach’s wife, who taught home-ec, had made Jimmy’s uniform, since the school did not have one small enough.

The last game of the season, Jimmy’s teammates took a victory lap with him on their shoulders. I’ve never seen him happier.

From that day, Jimmy made every team, basketball, baseball and football. He never played, but kept records and cheered. At every post season sports banquet, he won the “most-enthusiastic" award.

Today, Jimmy inspires a team of reporters and photographers as city editor on a daily newspaper.

We visited often with the Ericksons. Recently, Mr. Erickson died in a car crash.  Jimmy and I were pallbearers.

One thing the coach said has stuck like a sandbur to my soul. I thought about it during the service: “No dreamer is too small; no dream too big." In all our conversations about Jimmy, it’s the only reference he ever made to size.

Marty RicKard Bio

Marty RicKard attended William Penn College , Iowa State University and University of Southern Mississippi , from which he holds a BS degree in journalism and photojournalism. He also has a Masters Degree in photography, in addition to the Craftsman, CPP, and A-ASP degrees. Marty spent two years as a technical writer for White Motor Company, and has worked for the Charles City Press, Mason City Globe-Gazette, and Davenport Times-Democrat. He was owner of the weekly New Sharon Star, where he was twice named Iowa Master Columnist for his article, which was syndicated in twenty Iowa newspapers. For more than a decade Marty’s regular column appeared in the Professional Photographer magazine. He has been published in many other magazines and newspapers, including Writer’s Digest, Writer Advice, Golf Digest, Resource Magazine, Picture, Range Finder, and Darkroom. In addition to his writing credits, Marty has won numerous photography awards, has lectured in 48 states, and has traveled internationally as lecturer, and judge. He was one of thirty from the U.S. to participate in the first cultural exchange with China in 1986. He currently is a regular columnist for Lens Magazine, and a full-time writer of fiction and poetry. He is the author of two poetry books and one volume of short stories. He is an entertaining speaker.