HI, MY NAME IS DON,” he said as I stepped into the indoor Jacuzzi.
“Mine’s Randy,” I replied, as we shook hands. There was only one reason to be at this inexpensive hotel on a cold and rainy Saturday afternoon in sleepy Bakersfield, CA.
“You here for soccer?” I asked the obvious question.
“Yeah, my older son is playing and we’re taking a break between games. This is my younger son, Scott,” he replied.
Scott appeared about 10 years old. He was soaking and spinning his Nerf ball in the air – it reminded me of the Rings of Jupiter from last week’s school Science Night.
“Scott has autism,” Don offered. Getting directly in his face, he said, “Scott, can you say, ‘Hi Randy?”
Scott looked into my eyes and said, “Hi, Randy.” We connected.
In about 20 minutes, we dads swapped family basics. Seeing him with his son, I knew he was a great dad. My heart went out to the both of them.
“Don, you have a very special son and a great kid,” I said when leaving.
Late the next afternoon, while watching Kelsey’s team play in the cold rain on Field 15, I felt a tap on the shoulder. It was Scott. Don came a few seconds later and told me Scott had seen me from a distance and announced, “There’s my Randy.”
Don told me that it was funny with autistic kids – they sense the ones who accept them and the ones who don’t. We chatted for a few minutes.
“Thanks for coming over. I feel very special,” I said.
“Well, you are, you’re his friend,” Don responded.
That’s exactly the way I felt. While walking to my car after the game, I could see Don and Scott in the distance. I’ll likely never see them again but Scott touched me in a special way and I thought, “I hope you have a great life, Scott. You certainly deserve it, little buddy….”
