Outside Looking In

Downtown Brown
I was recently interviewed by a college journalism student from Willmar who was writing a piece for school and one of the questions she posed to me was "What is the most memorable story you have ever written."
Ihave been writing for over 40 years now and there have beennumerous memorabe stories during that span. One story, though, will forever be engrained in my memory. So, without hesitation, I gave my answer, "Downtown Adam Brown."
I have been fortunate in my writing life to have covered several major events when I was sports editor of the West Central Tribune, such as the Super Bowl in Minneapolis, the Final Four men's basketball tournament, PGA events, and other college and pro games.
But it was a regular season high school boys' basketball game in March of 2001 that still puts a tear in my eye when I reminisce about it. In fact, I mentioned the story to someone at the library this past Saturday and I had to compose myself in order to finish the story.
Adam Brown is the son of Jay and Cathy Brown of Glenwood. Adam was born with pervasivale development disorder, a form of autism, and was extremely shy and had trouble socializing and learning. But he loved sports, especially basketball.
Adam told his mother that he wanted to try out for the basketball team because he wanted to wear the Minnewaska Lakers jersey.
His coach, Phil Johnsrud, gave Adam every opportunity to make the team. Part of the reason stemmed from when Johnsrud played for Starbuck in 1985 and one of his teammates, Jim Gorter, had Down syndrome and was an inspiration to the others on the team.
Adam had a nice shot, but labored in other aspects of the game because of his limited motor skills. He rarely got into a game, but he still enjoyed being a member of the team and wearing the Lakers' uniform. When he was a senior, Adam's goal was to make a basket in a game.
His senior season wore on and Adam had not even taken a shot all year, let alone make a basket. With the regular season winding down, the Lakers built a large lead against the Benson Braves and Johnsrud motioned for Adam to enter the game with about three minutes left.
Adam's teammates knew how important it was for him to make a basket. Unfortunately, the first pass to him went through his hands and out of bounds. With under two minutes left, Adam ran to his favorite spot just to the right of the top of the key and caught a pass from a teammate. With no hesitation, he flung the ball toward the hoop and made the nylon cords dance. Nothing but net!!!
Spectators from both teams stood and cheered loudly as Cathy wiped tears from her eyes. Soon, many others were wiping tears. Johnsrud, too, became emotional.
In the article I wrote about Adam, I called him "Downtown Adam Brown" because of his long-range shooting prowess.
KSTP-TV picked up on the newspaper account of Adam's exploits and ran a very nice segment, using game film to show the basket he made.
Johnsrud is now the Activities Director at Minnewaska Area. Adam is now 40 years old, still lives at home in Glenwood, and works part-time as a janitor at a coffee shop in Glenwood.
"He still loves all sports," said his mother Sunday night by phone.
I admit that I was teary-eyed writing this column 21 years after the fact. Some sporting events are more than just about winning and losing.

Another side
Another question the journalism student asked me was if I ever had a bad experience interviewing someone.
That was also an easy answer for me. It was not only an ending I didn't expect, but it was also a little humorous when I think about it now.
In 1992, the Final Four men's college basketball tournament was held in the former Metrodome building. I was fortunate enough to obtain a media pass to cover the event that featured the Fab Five from Michigan, Christian Laettner and Duke, Nick Van Excel and Cincinnati, and Bobby Knight's Indiana Hoosiers.
As much as I looked forward to watching the games, I really wanted to meet Coach Knight. I found myself with time to spare before the first game between Duke and Indiana, so I sat down on a bench under the stadium bleachers next to the dressing rooms to read. Far down the hallway, I saw Knight walking alone and coming in my direction. As he got closer, I noticed he was munching on a hot dog. Figuring this was my big chance, I stood up and approached him as politely as possible.
"Hi Coach Knight," I said. "I just want to wish you good luck in your game today."
I extended my arm to shake hands with him. Instead, Knight took a bite out of his hot dog and placed what was left in my open hand and walked away, never saying a word to me.
Indiana would go on to lose to Duke, 81-78 in the semifinals. Can you imagine what he would have done with that hot dog if I had approached him after that game instead of before it?