Meet SIMON
Age 11
Transplant: June 10, 2004
Kidney Disease: End Stage Renal Failure

 Having watched Alonzo Mourning play basketball at Georgetown University and then with several NBA teams it is easy for me to describe him – he is fierce, relentless on the court, loud, strong, and a defensive force in the middle of the lane to be reckoned with. “Don’t bring it in here” is what his face, wagging finger or body language often conveys as he lies in wait for the next shot to block or rebound to snatch. As he moves up court to the offensive end I have seen him set crunching picks, slide to the open spot and draw a double team, shoot from the outside or slip down low to grab a pass and slam one down with the authority and intensity that must come from a burning desire to put his own personal stamp on the game and to be the best at what he does on the court.

Watching Alonzo at a recent Golden State Warriors game I saw him block several shots, run the court fluidly, grab rebounds, and frustrate the man he was guarding. His signature fist pump followed his blocks and dunks, and with temple veins nearly popping and beads of sweat dripping, he looked down at the court and then skyward as if talking to someone else and then he resumed the game. Sure I can describe what he did on the court and characterize him as an athlete and rank him among the superstars who have played the game. But it took just 10 short seconds after the game for me to really see who Alonzo Mourning is as a person.

As Alonzo turned left coming out of the locker room he looked in our direction, picked up his pace, and in 5 long strides, his face grew into a wide grin as he looked at my 11 year old son Simon; and, as he extended his arms, placing his huge hands on Simon’s shoulders, he said with a gentle voice, “Simon, I have heard a lot about you. You are looking good today my man”. Alonzo smiled at me, shook my hand and then bent his massive frame down to talk to Simon at his level. He pulled Simon close to him and asked if it was OK to offer his advice. Simon nodded. It sounded so natural, so genuine, so caring. He told Simon to always take his medicine and recounted how badly he had felt when he himself once skipped a dose. Alonzo told Simon to always listen to his doctors and parents and he emphasized that parents are there to help their children. And he spoke to Simon of the importance of how having a strong mind can help lead to a strong body. He told Simon to never give up, he told Simon how badly he had felt at times battling his illness and he told Simon that he always knew he would get stronger. And eventually, little by little, he did, to the point of where he could resume his career.  As my mind flashed to many images of Alonzo during his college and pro career, and as my thoughts raced to all the questions I had wanted to ask him about his kidney disease and medications and his transplant and recovery, I found myself nearly speechless, grasping for words, and managed to look up at him and see through his tinted glasses the eyes of a man who just had reached into my son’s heart, who touched a place that even a father cannot reach. Standing there taller than life, Alonzo, the superstar athlete, in Simon’s eyes was a fellow patient, a kidney transplant recipient, just like Simon. They had a unique and undeniable connection. They each knew how the other had felt at one time; they each had experienced confusion, fear and had unthinkable thoughts racing through their minds as doctors delivered devestating news to them. Yet as Alonzo shook hands, hugged, offered his game shoes and some great advice and inspirational words to Simon, I knew that Simon did not view Zo as the athlete or the celebrity. He viewed him as a kind, generous, and supportive new friend. Someone who cared and took the time out of his busy schedule, and who, when he was exhausted after the game, performed like an all star on the court of life. Stopping to pledge his future support. “You call me or email me if you need me”, “I’ll be there for you”. “You take care of yourself and stay strong”. “You can do it”. Listen to your mom and dad”.  

I almost began to cry. That happens these days for many reasons but this time it was different. It was tears of happiness that stemmed from an opportunity to watch as someone else cared about my son, as someone else reached out to Simon, as someone else made a genuine effort to connect with Simon and do so on a level that I could not. Not because of his superstar status (although I am sure Simon thought it was cool meeting an NBA player) but more importantly because of the connection between them due to the kidney transplants that each had received, just months apart in 2004. Zo gave me the nod, the look, and the firm two-handed hand shake to steady me. He must have seen it before as parents probably get choked up often when he talks to their children. I gathered myself and reached up and tapped him on his chest over his heart and told Simon that this is where Alonzo gets it. He has the heart of a warrior, I knew him as someone who never gave up on the court all through his career, and I was certain that it was from here that he got his strength to battle his condition and return, against high odds, to the basketball career by which many people define him. I told Alonzo as we were leaving that he did something very special for my son. “Thank you” just didn’t seem like enough but it was the only thing I could offer. Again, Alonzo seemed to understand, and he nodded again, smiled and tapped me on the shoulder. Describe Alonzo Mourning as a basketball player? Many people can do that. But I had the opportunity to observe him as a soft-spoken, warm, caring, genuine human being. He is capable of putting a rare smile on a child’s face, capable of reaching out to families in emotional turmoil over the illness of their child, willing to take a few minutes and make a lifetime of a difference.

 There is a Hall of Fame waiting for Alonzo Mourning, I am sure of that. And while many people will continue to define Alonzo for his deeds and accomplishments on the basketball court I have a new perspective, a new vantage point from where I view Alonzo. I know that Alonzo, as he is doing great things for many children, will have an even greater legacy and impact off the court than on. And as I walked through the parking lot to my car, holding Simon’s hand (as his other hand gripped Alonzo’s size 18.5 sneaker), Simon looked up at me and said “no offense, dad, but Alonzo really knows, better than you, what I went through and what I felt like”. I of course agreed, and offered my own mini fist pump while looking down at the ground and then skywards at the star filled night, hearing the voice in my head say what I felt in my heart – “Thank you, Alonzo for entering our lives in such a personal, meaningful and memorable way”.