Never to be Expected...
By : Gabe Trujillo
The journey of life is both adventurous and unpredictable.
There are so many things I want to do and so many things I have left behind.
I don’t know where I’m going or what I will become;
The road I have taken may not be the best path
Or it may not be the road to success,
All I hope is that it’s the road to somewhere.
I may encounter the detours and crossroads of life,
But one thing will always be certain;
My hope and courage will never let me down.
Things will never be easy or placed on a silver platter;
With faith as my guide and perseverance as my compass,
I will never lose my way.
As I travel down this long and mysterious path,
I know I will become a better person;
As I look back on the journey I have taken,
I see my life with no regret.
My friends remind me to live life to the fullest and
My family reminds me of what’s important;
So as I prepare for the long road ahead,
I simply look forward and smile with determination.
I will encounter rough times and jagged curves,
But I will never give up.
Everything will never go as planned,
So I will always expect the unexpected.
As I sit and think about the past
I can’t help but be excited about the future;
For this was never to be expected…
PowerBlast '09 Highlights
This past January, I participated in the PowerBlast power soccer games at ASU. The Minnestoa Courage Blizzard came down to play a few games with me and my Arizona Heat teammates. Overall, we had a great time and look forward to having the regional tournament here in Arizona next year. Take a look at the video below, I've put together some highlights of one of the games we played at the SRC at ASU.
This Kid is Amazing!
This is what happens after you go to the dentist and get just a little to much laughing gas. Remember kids, just say no to drugs, and root canals.
The Cards were Robbed!
Some pictures are worth 1000 words. These should be worth the Lombardi Trophy. Or at least an incomplete pass. We'll get 'em next year (If Kurt comes back).
(Rob Schumacher/The Arizona Republic)
Magnification. (Rob Schumacher/The Arizona Republic)
Me and my Bro at the Car Show
Here's a video I put together of some footage of me and my brother at a car show in Phoenix. The song is "Your Hand in Mine" by Explosions in the Sky.
My chat with Carl Spackler a.k.a. Bill Murray
As my dad, grandfather and I walked through the entrance of the 2006 FBR Open, I couldn’t make my wheelchair go fast enough. Every year I eagerly wait for the Open to make its way back to the TPC at Scottsdale.
It’s a week-long event full of huge crowds, Thunderdogs, and, of course, golf. As usual, the entrance tent is full of businesses trying to get customers to sign-up for weekend getaways and court side seats. Once we passed through the maze of offer and demonstrations, we set our sights on the 10th hole.
The crowd was light and we had a clear view of the action so we decided to watch from there. The overcast skies lit up as the sunlight finally broke through the clouds. Slowly, the golfers made their way around the course when it was finally time for Bill Murray to make his presence known at the 10th hole.
Wearing a black and white Hawaiian-style shirt and shorts, Murray struts down the fairway towards the green. His golf ball lands just in front of the green. Slowly, he walks around the ball with his caddy, sizing up his next shot. “Chip it in the hole!” Shouts a man from the gallery. “Oh, don’t worry, just watch and be amazed,” Murray answers.
Murray approaches his ball cautiously before he takes his swing. After a few moments of concentration, he pulls back his club and swings. The ball narrowly misses the cup and the crowd erupts in applause. Playing with the crowd, Murray tosses an apple he was eating into the crowd.
The eaten core sails through the gallery before it surprisingly lands in my dad’s outstretched hand. My dad and I stare at each other in amazement as he tosses the core behind my wheelchair. Suddenly, hordes of fans reach for the core as if it were a bag of money. “If anyone wants it, you can bid for it on ebay,” says the woman with the core, proudly lifting it in the air.
(I guess there isn’t a huge market for chewed, celebrity food because no one bid for Bill Murray’s apple core.)
After Murray finishes his putt, he makes his way towards the Thunderdogs grill, but not before walking past my dad and me. “You (My dad) got great hands,” says Murray. “You just reached out and snatched it.” Murray took a few moments to chat with my dad and I before making his way to the next hole.
“Are you a Diamondbacks fan?” Asks Murray as he notices my hat. “If you are, then I can’t take a picture with you.” Murray is an avid Chicago Cubs fan and we talk about the upcoming baseball season as my dad and other photographers take our picture. After watching him in films such as Ghostbusters and Caddyshack, it is cool to see him in person.
The Cardinals are Super Bowl Bound!
That Just Happend!After 20 long, grueling years, hell has officially frozen over. The shadows you see in the sky are not clouds. They are smiling, happy pigs with wings. The Arizona Cardinals are headed to Super Bowl XLIII.
Let me say that again. The Arizona Cardinals are headed to Super Bowl XLIII.
My family and I have had Cardinals season tickets since 1988, and we have endured plenty of hardships. From the scorching-hot aluminum seats at Sun Devil Stadium, to the draft day blunders of Wendell Bryant and Leland McElroy, there were plenty of reasons to jump off the Cardinals bandwagon.
But our family endured, and we decided to keep our season tickets, no matter what. Even when I became sick and was in the hospital for almost 8 months, I still turned to the Cardinals for hope. Every Sunday during the season I watched their games. And while wins were few and far between, it brought me a sense of normalcy in a time of crisis.
And it was because of that I will always be a lifelong Cardinals fan. I wanted success for the Cardinals in the worst way but it didn't seem like it would come.
But then the Cardinals decided to do something very different. They decided to hire an unknown coach. His name was Ken Whisenhunt. His hiring brought a renewed hope to the long-suffering Cardinals fans. And it didn't take long for its payoff. In just his second year, coach was in on prop the Arizona Cardinals their first home playoff game since 1947, their first class victory since 1998 and their first ever trip to the Super Bowl.
As the final seconds ticked away in the NFC championship game against the Philadelphia Eagles, I was overcome with joy and excitement. I was witness to something I will never believe I could see. This long-suffering organization, once considered to be the worst playoff team ever is now making their way to the Super Bowl XLIII.
Let me say this again.
The Cardinals are headed for Super Bowl XLIII. No matter how many times I say it's, it will never get old. If you want to view some pics that I took at the game, please click on the link below.
Look Ma, No Wheels!
Scientists have created a wheelchair that uses robotic legs instead of wheels. If this technology ever gets perfected, I think this will be a great help for the disabled. I would love to be able to go up a flight of stairs or walk on the beach again. So I'm going to be lining up when the spider chair becomes available to the public.
Click here to read more about it.
One Small Step for Monkeys...
I was reading a Wired Magazine article the other day, and I came across some interesting news. Apparently, scientists have figured out a way to make paralyzed monkeys regain some movement in their extremities by implanting a chip in their brain. Hey, if it'll help me get up and walk again, I'll be willing to try anything. Where do I sign up?
A Drive-By Rolling
Disability: Something that hinders a person from completing normal, everyday tasks.
For me, this word has become all too familiar in my vocabulary and I have been trying to understand its meaning for a long time. An unfortunate illness on September of 1997 made me a quadriplegic and my life was headed in a whole new direction. I have been in a wheelchair for 11 years and it is amazing how many things are brought to your attention once your point of view is lowered a couple of feet. The views of beer bellies and six-packs increase dramatically and the previously altitudinal-challenged first graders lick their chops at the sight of a new play toy. My wheelchair appears like a moving jungle jim and they can’t wait for recess. As I became accustomed to my new surroundings, one glaring problem has reared its ugly head towards my direction.
It all started on a beautiful, sunny weekend afternoon as I drove through the maze of the mall parking lot looking for a space to park. Isle after isle, the spaces were filled with every make of car imaginable. Frantically, I drove in circles looking for a good spot for my Ford van. I am in a wheelchair, so my search was greatly decreased; my van was way to big to fit in those “compact” spaces. As I looked through the sea of faded Honda Civics and shiny, freshly waxed Cadillac Escalades, my patience began to wear thin. Finally, I arrived at the front of the store and headed to the disabled parking area. To my dismay, all the spots were full with other vehicles. “No problem,” I said to myself; I knew that the mall would be packed. When I began passing by this red Dodge Ram, I noticed that a handicap license plate or a disabled placard were nowhere in sight.
Completely ignoring the sign that stood just feet away from their bumper and in plain view, some person still parked in the space. The crusted, mud-stained tires sat underneath the frame of the truck, proof of their adventurous off-road expedition through some exotic mountain range. If he somehow managed to build a complete off-road, all-purpose wheelchair that can drive through mud, sand, dirt, and gravel, sign me up right now. It also seems to blow my mind, how someone who is disabled could make their way up those huge steps on a truck that are easily ten feet off the ground. As I made my way from my parking spot, the owner of the infamous pick-up made his way to his door.
Each hand was filled with bags from Abercrombie and Fitch and Sam Goody as he reached for the keys in his recently pressed Diesel jeans. He threw his bags in the back seat before he jumped into his front seat and pulled out of the space. I reached the crosswalk as he was turning the corner and through his tinted windows he looked over at me and screamed, “Get the hell outta my way!” Should I have been able to move my arms, I would have given him the everlasting image of my middle finger raised high in the air. Of course I need to think realistically; I should have run him over with my wheelchair, leaving him screaming in pain with two broken feet. At least then he could use that space legally. From that moment on, I always kept my eye out for those people who think they are unable to walk those few extra feet to the entrance.
Everyone always seems to be in a hurry no matter where they are going. Whether you are picking up groceries or going Christmas shopping, these spaces seem all too inviting. “I’m just going to be in and out,” you say to yourself, looking for any justification possible. Anxiously, you pull into the spot looking over your shoulder making sure no one is around. Your hands are shaking as you step out of your Cadillac convertible and head towards the entrance. Each step is becoming heavier and heavier as your conscience tugs at every nerve in your body. All I am asking for is for you to pay attention to your gut instinct. We all passed the third grade with ease, so we should all be able to understand pictures. Of course, I could see how a picture of a stick figure sitting on a circle could be a little confusing…
For the past 11 years, I continued to see numerous handicap spaces taken over by busy soccer moms and snobbish senior citizens who think that using these spaces is not wrong. Some people do not realize that these spots were made for a reason. Every time I go to a store, I need an extra-wide space so I am able to use the lift on my van. So when I see someone who is perfectly capable of walking those few extra feet or spend a little more time to find a space, my blood begins to curdle. I would really like to believe that we put our morals ahead of our impatience.
Small fines and little punishment by authorities barely even impose fear on the offenders of this unthoughtful crime so I think it is time we start to police ourselves. Every disabled person should be given the power to inflict bodily harm on any person who parks in a handicapped space. When the next senior citizen who pulls into one of the spots, snobbishly flaunting their new torpedo of a Cadillac, they should become fresh game. As they unexpectedly cruise through the crosswalk, I would stalk the person like a lion waiting for the right time to pounce. Out of nowhere, I make my move and cut in front of his way making sure I get his attention. “Is there somewhere you need to be?” I said. “No,” he replied angrily as he stormed through the mall entrance. Little does he know that there will be a surprise sticking on his bumper; a nice big, red bumper sticker with a simple sentence.
I’M TOO BUSY TO READ SIGNS
Simple, yet effective. Everywhere, there are people hurrying through their lives trying to make the most out of every minute. We try and find shortcuts wherever we can so we can spend time on more important things. For people who are disabled, these spaces help us through the day and make things a little easier. Without them, we would be driving around the back lot looking for a couple of spots to make our vans fit. All of our lives seem to be on fast-forward, but that does not mean we need to put our judgment on pause. The next time that spot looks so enticing and decide to park, remember the big, red bumper sticker.