Miss-Delectable
New Member
- Joined
- Apr 18, 2004
- Messages
- 17,160
- Reaction score
- 7
Gorman: Let's hear it for South Park senior - Pittsburgh Tribune-Review
Moments before the national anthem, as Johnny Sopczynski warmed up within earshot, the officiating crew approached South Park boys basketball coach Will Saunders with a serious concern.
They saw the contraption Sopczynski was wearing, which wrapped around his right ear and the side of his head. Worried about their liability should something happen to it or him during Tuesday's game against West Mifflin, they threatened not to allow the Eagles swingman to wear his earpiece.
They might as well have pressed a mute button.
"It just reminds you," Johnny said, "of the role sound plays in our lives."
Johnny Sopczynski isn't just a high school basketball player with a hearing aid. He's a 17-year-old who is profoundly deaf. He can't hear anything without his cochlear implant, a surgically implanted device that uses an earpiece with a microphone, speech processor and transmitter to send sounds by electrodes through the cochlea and impulses to the nerves in his brain.
"Without it, he could stand next to a jet engine and feel the vibrations but won't hear it. One audiologist told us, 'You can't get any deafer than this,'" said Johnny's father, John Sopczynski Sr. "He's played whole games with the implant not working because he's sweating and it malfunctions. He's played whole games deaf and nobody knows -- not his high school coach, his teammates, not even I know. A lot of coaches would have taken this deaf kid and put him at the end of the bench and said, 'I don't have time to deal with this.' Will Saunders hasn't done that."
Saunders won his protest with the officials, thanks in part to the Sopczynskis' willingness to produce a doctor's permission form, if necessary. Yet South Park's fifth-year coach admits to initially having some trepidation about coaching Johnny. Saunders worried that they would have difficulty communicating from a distance, what would happen if Johnny's hearing aid fell off, whether he would be lost in the silence.
Turns out, Johnny is South Park's best on-ball defender, often playing at the point on the press and guarding an opponent's top scorer. His hustle and reckless disregard for his gangly 6-foot-2 frame set a shining example for a 2-9 team (1-3 Section 4-AAA) on which he is one of only two seniors.
"It's helped me mature as a coach and opened my eyes," Saunders said. "The first year I coached him, I was really scared. I didn't know how to respond. I saw his hearing aid come off and didn't know what to do. The more you're around him, the more you get to know him, it's an easier thing.
"I'm a better coach and a better person for coaching him."
And South Park players, who regularly pick up his earpiece when it falls off during a game, say they are better for playing with Johnny. Teammates are amazed that he can play portions of a game without hearing a sound, that he can overcome it by relying on his innate feel for the rhythm of the game.
"Honestly, I forget he has it sometimes," South Park junior Ryan Smider, who has known Johnny since grade school, said of the cochlear implant. Smider pauses, then smiles in wonder. "That blows my mind."
Lillian Lippencott, director of outreach and development at DePaul School for Hearing and Speech in Shadyside -- which Johnny attended from 9 months old through kindergarten -- calls Johnny a "pioneer" for transitioning to mainstream schools and sports. Johnny is a two-sport athlete who has a 4.3 grade-point average, has been accepted to Penn State's University Park campus and plans to major in electrical engineering.
Remarkable, she says, considering he couldn't hear his first two years.
"To speak with him, you wouldn't even know he's deaf," Lippencott said. "He's really a wonderful role model for children with hearing loss. He lives a reality where he's overcome his hearing loss and it's not an obstacle for him. Think about the confidence and conviction it takes for a person to deal with that."
When told this, Johnny Sopczynski shrugs.
"I don't like to look at myself that way," Johnny said, "but I have had parents come up and tell me, 'It's great to hear your story and see how successful you've been.'"
His success isn't limited to basketball. He's also the setter on South Park's boys' volleyball team and plays center in dek hockey. On Sunday, he did a radio interview for DePaul School on KQV's "Education Plus" show. He lives by a simple mantra: "Don't let anything get in your way. Nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it."
From the sounds of it, Johnny Sopczynski isn't so much profoundly deaf as he is simply profound. Let's hear it for the latter.
Moments before the national anthem, as Johnny Sopczynski warmed up within earshot, the officiating crew approached South Park boys basketball coach Will Saunders with a serious concern.
They saw the contraption Sopczynski was wearing, which wrapped around his right ear and the side of his head. Worried about their liability should something happen to it or him during Tuesday's game against West Mifflin, they threatened not to allow the Eagles swingman to wear his earpiece.
They might as well have pressed a mute button.
"It just reminds you," Johnny said, "of the role sound plays in our lives."
Johnny Sopczynski isn't just a high school basketball player with a hearing aid. He's a 17-year-old who is profoundly deaf. He can't hear anything without his cochlear implant, a surgically implanted device that uses an earpiece with a microphone, speech processor and transmitter to send sounds by electrodes through the cochlea and impulses to the nerves in his brain.
"Without it, he could stand next to a jet engine and feel the vibrations but won't hear it. One audiologist told us, 'You can't get any deafer than this,'" said Johnny's father, John Sopczynski Sr. "He's played whole games with the implant not working because he's sweating and it malfunctions. He's played whole games deaf and nobody knows -- not his high school coach, his teammates, not even I know. A lot of coaches would have taken this deaf kid and put him at the end of the bench and said, 'I don't have time to deal with this.' Will Saunders hasn't done that."
Saunders won his protest with the officials, thanks in part to the Sopczynskis' willingness to produce a doctor's permission form, if necessary. Yet South Park's fifth-year coach admits to initially having some trepidation about coaching Johnny. Saunders worried that they would have difficulty communicating from a distance, what would happen if Johnny's hearing aid fell off, whether he would be lost in the silence.
Turns out, Johnny is South Park's best on-ball defender, often playing at the point on the press and guarding an opponent's top scorer. His hustle and reckless disregard for his gangly 6-foot-2 frame set a shining example for a 2-9 team (1-3 Section 4-AAA) on which he is one of only two seniors.
"It's helped me mature as a coach and opened my eyes," Saunders said. "The first year I coached him, I was really scared. I didn't know how to respond. I saw his hearing aid come off and didn't know what to do. The more you're around him, the more you get to know him, it's an easier thing.
"I'm a better coach and a better person for coaching him."
And South Park players, who regularly pick up his earpiece when it falls off during a game, say they are better for playing with Johnny. Teammates are amazed that he can play portions of a game without hearing a sound, that he can overcome it by relying on his innate feel for the rhythm of the game.
"Honestly, I forget he has it sometimes," South Park junior Ryan Smider, who has known Johnny since grade school, said of the cochlear implant. Smider pauses, then smiles in wonder. "That blows my mind."
Lillian Lippencott, director of outreach and development at DePaul School for Hearing and Speech in Shadyside -- which Johnny attended from 9 months old through kindergarten -- calls Johnny a "pioneer" for transitioning to mainstream schools and sports. Johnny is a two-sport athlete who has a 4.3 grade-point average, has been accepted to Penn State's University Park campus and plans to major in electrical engineering.
Remarkable, she says, considering he couldn't hear his first two years.
"To speak with him, you wouldn't even know he's deaf," Lippencott said. "He's really a wonderful role model for children with hearing loss. He lives a reality where he's overcome his hearing loss and it's not an obstacle for him. Think about the confidence and conviction it takes for a person to deal with that."
When told this, Johnny Sopczynski shrugs.
"I don't like to look at myself that way," Johnny said, "but I have had parents come up and tell me, 'It's great to hear your story and see how successful you've been.'"
His success isn't limited to basketball. He's also the setter on South Park's boys' volleyball team and plays center in dek hockey. On Sunday, he did a radio interview for DePaul School on KQV's "Education Plus" show. He lives by a simple mantra: "Don't let anything get in your way. Nothing is impossible if you set your mind to it."
From the sounds of it, Johnny Sopczynski isn't so much profoundly deaf as he is simply profound. Let's hear it for the latter.