Thursday, October 05, 2006

Happy Birthday, Stephen!

I remember growing up as the second of four boys. My youngest brother, Stephen, was almost exactly four years younger than me. Of course, being the youngest, he was the one that got teased and picked on the most, but he always had an upbeat, cheery disposition about him and a determination to stand his ground in the face of his older brothers. That determination was probably the biggest advantage of being the youngest. By the time he was old enough to play city league sports like baseball and basketball, he was leaps and bounds above other kids his age because he had learned to play well enough to be competitive with his older siblings.

One story to illustrate this point is told by my mom. When Stephen was 9 years old, he tried out to be on the city's 9-10 year-old All-Star team. Most of the kids, including Stephen, did pretty well fielding and throwing balls in the infield. But nearly all of the kids had trouble catching fly balls in the outfield. Enter Stephen. He loved catching fly balls and would practice catching them all the time. He would often be playing catch with my dad, asking my dad to throw it as high as he could. When it came time for him to catch fly balls in the outfield, he did it with such ease that the coaches were amazed. In fact, at one point, he turned to my mom at the side of field and asked "Should I catch one behind my back?" (a trick also taught to him by my dad) My mom quickly dissuaded him of this idea, not wanting him to rub it in to the other All-Star hopefuls.

My personal favorite sports memory of Stephen was on the basketball court. Again, he was a pretty good basketball player for his age, since he had played against his older brothers (2,4,&5 years older, respectively) for years. I remember him coming down with a rebound on the opposite team's side of the court. He dribbled full-court, through most of the opposing team, and made an easy basket on the other end of the court. As he was jogging back to play defense, he looked at me in the crowd with an air of innocent arrogance and proceeded to give the "2 Legit 2 Quit" hand gestures (yes, this was the early '90s). It made me laugh that he was so cocky at such a young age.

Unfortunately, we will never know what could have happened with those athletic talents, or any other traits or characteristics that made up the heart and soul of Stephen - at least not in this life. He passed away at the tender age of 10, after a car accident landed him in a week-long coma. It's been 15 years since he passed away, and Stephen would have turned 25 years old today. I still think about him all the time and look forward to the day when we will meet again. But until that day comes, I just wanted to say "Happy Birthday, little brother."

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