Chris Canales doesn't blame the game. Has every right to, but
doesn't.
``I love football,'' he said. ``Getting to meet the pros and
watch them play is great fun.''
Canales used to play himself. Was pretty good at it, too, making
all conference as a defensive back and receiving three scholarship
offers from colleges who wanted him to be a punter.
One tackle wiped those dreams away. One tackle nearly took his
life away.
It came on Nov. 2, 2001, in the fourth quarter in the final
regular season game of his career at San Marcos Baptist Academy.
Just another routine tackle until the running back tried to leap
over Canales and his hip collided with the top of Canales' helmet.
Lying on the field, Canales asked the emergency medical
technicians what was wrong.
They didn't answer. They didn't need to.
``I knew right away something was wrong,'' Canales said. ``Once
you try to get up and can't move, you know something is wrong.''
Canales watches football from a wheelchair these days, paralyzed
from the shoulders down. He was watching with more than just a
passing interest Sunday when Kevin Everett crumpled to the field
after making a tackle for the Buffalo Bills.
``It's something you don't like to see, but it happens,'' Canales
said. ``It's a contact sport.''
Everett's injury is big news because he plays in the NFL and
professional football is the most watched sport in the country.
Video clips of his ill-fated tackle have been shown repeatedly, and
the media will report every development, just as we did with Darryl
Stingley and Mike Utley before him.
The Buffalo Bills will no doubt provide him with the best of
care, and there will likely be a day in the not-so-distant future
when he wheels into Ralph Wilson Stadium to accept the cheers of
thousands of fans.
There aren't many cheers in Schertz, Texas, where Canales lives
with his parents. His father, Eddie, quit his job to take care of
his son full-time, a day that usually begins about 7:30 a.m. and
doesn't end until 3 a.m. the next morning when he's finally able to
grab a few hours of sleep.
The elder Canales shares the details of what it is like to take
care of a paralyzed son, not because he is looking for sympathy but
because he wants people to know how difficult life can be for a
quadriplegic.
Chris Canales nearly died twice in the hospital, and once again
after coming home. He fell into a deep depression as the reality of
his new life sunk in.
In a split-second on the football field he went from glory on the
field to a life where he can't even control his bodily functions and
must depend on others to do the simplest of tasks.
The Bills will be there for Everett. The same usually can't be
said for those injured on high school fields.
``The difference is that the Bills organization will take care of
this young man and help provide,'' Eddie Canales said. ``On the high
school level that is not necessarily true. They tend to be forgotten
after they graduate while the families are devastated and have to
live with the injury and array of medical problems that come with
this.''
Father and son are trying to do something about that. After
attending a game where another high school player was paralyzed a
year after Canales' injury, they founded a non-profit organization
called Gridiron Heroes to help players and their families cope with
the aftermath of their injuries.
They began with two heroes in 2003. Since that time, 12 other
high school players have been paralyzed in games in Texas alone.
Eddie Canales hustles to raise money, but it's still a shoestring
operation. He and his son have managed to get wheelchair-accessible
vehicles for three of the injured, and Chris Canales laughs when he
remembers the good times when he and other paralyzed players went to
a Houston Texans game and a Dallas Cowboy practice.
Once a month they all get $100 gift cards to Wal-Mart to help
with the things the state doesn't cover, like gloves, wet wipes and
diapers.
Most of all they try to give the players and their families some
hope for the future.
``We try to provide inspiration and hope,'' Eddie Canales said.
``With this type of injury, hope is always taken away.''
Hope is what keeps both father and son going. It's been nearly
six years since the injury, and they count progress in small steps.
Chris can now feed himself, brush his teeth and comb his hair.
Just recently he celebrated being able to transfer himself from his
wheelchair into a regular chair and back.
His father, though, still worries. Pneumonia is always a threat,
and the smallest thing can set off a downward spiral for the
paralyzed.
Chris turns 24 next month and he's looking ahead to the future,
something that might have seemed impossible before.
To his father's delight, he has a goal once again.
``My goal is to walk again, though I don't know how long it is
going to take,'' he said. ``Once you give up, that's it. I'm going
to go out and get them. I'm going to fight for it.''