Miss-Delectable
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http://www.canada.com/edmontonjournal/news/story.html?id=fb8bc38c-a473-4eb0-ae02-ee6bced84775
EDMONTON - Ryan Kucy plays hockey, golfs, swims. Loves going to concerts. Especially when Nickelback is in town.
Tried judo. Switched to wrestling. Won his provincial match in Grande Prairie. Now he's in this weekend's national wrestling championship at the U. of A.'s Butterdome.
Fifteen. A Grade 10 student at Bev Facey. Typical teenager.
Sure. Except he's blind. And deaf.
"You'd never know it," says Louis Bezuidenhout, an assistant coach with the Edmonton Wrestling Club.
That's him over there in the black trunks. Kucy can't see you but he's the one who just made a double-leg tackle and now has his opponent in a gut wrench. All he can see is a distorted world of hazy shapes and blurs. He can't hear his coaches yelling or people cheering.
"You don't need much sight for wrestling," says Kucy, his guide dog, Toots, curled up on the wrestling mat, never far from its master.
"You feel where your opponent is. You feel them moving. Feel their shoulders, their hips, their legs.
"I'm not totally blind. I have five-per- cent vision," he says, sweat dripping down his face, a cut on his lip.
Totally into the moment, Kucy tells you that wrestling is all about reflexes and anticipation.
"Some guys have trouble when they first start wrestling because they want to see what their opponent is doing. But so much of wrestling is reacting to this situation or that situation.
"Then you try to put it into your favour."
Kucy suffers from bilateral optic atrophy, a permanent visual impairment caused by damage to the optic nerve. His eyes are perfect but the signal that runs to the brain is always a fuzzy test pattern, robbing him of 95 per cent of what most people see.
He reads braille. Sees only predominant colours. Letters need to be a couple inches in size to make any sense.
While Ryan was born with his sight impairment, his dad, Rory, says his son's hearing loss has been gradual, starting around Grade 1 and progressively declining.
"At first, we were constantly going for testing. But one day Ryan just said, 'This is the way I am, let's leave it at that.' We're done testing."
To help compensate for his severe hearing loss, Ryan wears two hearing aids, both fitted with clip-on receivers that pick up the audio from a wireless microphone.
"By themselves, hearing aids amplify all sounds," says Rory. "If we are talking and a radio is playing in the background we have learned to tune out the radio. Ryan has trouble differentiating sounds. When you talk to him, he turns his hearing aids off and then he can only hear what you say to him in the microphone."
While technology assists his hearing, Ryan's sight compensation is Toots, his best friend, a two-year-old Labrador/golden retriever cross that has been his nearly constant companion since last June.
"The dog has really helped Ryan," says Rory. "It's allowed him to do things he could never do, given him far more independence.
"We take so much for granted. For instance, Ryan can't just go for a walk.
"Ryan is a very social child with very unsocial disabilities.
"Last year, in junior high, he ate lunch by himself all the time. This year, Toots has acted as an intermediary. The kids want to know the dog so they get to know Ryan."
Ryan's wrestling prowess is also accelerating.
"He's very aggressive," says Kelvin Kjenner, 15, one of his practice opponents. "He likes to be the first one to attack.
"We don't treat him differently than anyone else," says Kevin Lomas, coach of the Edmonton Wrestling Club and an assistant with the U of A wrestling club. "He's as good an athlete as anyone else."
Ryan, whose brother Aaron, 13, has no hearing or vision problems, says not many sports lend themselves to the visually impaired. But because it is hands on, he can wrestle.
"It's physical and really challenging. And it's an individual sport," says Kucy, who has practised four or five times a week to get ready for the nationals.
"It's rough. You get your black eyes and cuts and stuff like that but that's all part of the sport. I like a lot of sports. But I can't play hockey or baseball."
Well, maybe hockey. Last year he played using a metal puck about three times regulation size with a ball bearing tumbler inside that makes a noise. He's a very good skater with a decent wrist shot.
And golf?
"Sure. When the weather is nice. Dad points me in the right direction. And when it comes to putting, dad or Aaron stand behind the hole so I can see where it is marked."
Ryan also likes to swim. He has skied.
"We've never not allowed him to do anything ... as long as it's safe," Rory says.
Watching Kucy throw another opponent to the mat, Bezuidenhout remarks: "Given the challenges he has to overcome, the level of his athleticism is pretty amazing."
"I can still get better," Ryan says. "You can't stop improving. It doesn't matter if it is in school or with your business or whatever. Sports isn't the only thing."
Nothing, and nobody, is about to tap him out.
EDMONTON - Ryan Kucy plays hockey, golfs, swims. Loves going to concerts. Especially when Nickelback is in town.
Tried judo. Switched to wrestling. Won his provincial match in Grande Prairie. Now he's in this weekend's national wrestling championship at the U. of A.'s Butterdome.
Fifteen. A Grade 10 student at Bev Facey. Typical teenager.
Sure. Except he's blind. And deaf.
"You'd never know it," says Louis Bezuidenhout, an assistant coach with the Edmonton Wrestling Club.
That's him over there in the black trunks. Kucy can't see you but he's the one who just made a double-leg tackle and now has his opponent in a gut wrench. All he can see is a distorted world of hazy shapes and blurs. He can't hear his coaches yelling or people cheering.
"You don't need much sight for wrestling," says Kucy, his guide dog, Toots, curled up on the wrestling mat, never far from its master.
"You feel where your opponent is. You feel them moving. Feel their shoulders, their hips, their legs.
"I'm not totally blind. I have five-per- cent vision," he says, sweat dripping down his face, a cut on his lip.
Totally into the moment, Kucy tells you that wrestling is all about reflexes and anticipation.
"Some guys have trouble when they first start wrestling because they want to see what their opponent is doing. But so much of wrestling is reacting to this situation or that situation.
"Then you try to put it into your favour."
Kucy suffers from bilateral optic atrophy, a permanent visual impairment caused by damage to the optic nerve. His eyes are perfect but the signal that runs to the brain is always a fuzzy test pattern, robbing him of 95 per cent of what most people see.
He reads braille. Sees only predominant colours. Letters need to be a couple inches in size to make any sense.
While Ryan was born with his sight impairment, his dad, Rory, says his son's hearing loss has been gradual, starting around Grade 1 and progressively declining.
"At first, we were constantly going for testing. But one day Ryan just said, 'This is the way I am, let's leave it at that.' We're done testing."
To help compensate for his severe hearing loss, Ryan wears two hearing aids, both fitted with clip-on receivers that pick up the audio from a wireless microphone.
"By themselves, hearing aids amplify all sounds," says Rory. "If we are talking and a radio is playing in the background we have learned to tune out the radio. Ryan has trouble differentiating sounds. When you talk to him, he turns his hearing aids off and then he can only hear what you say to him in the microphone."
While technology assists his hearing, Ryan's sight compensation is Toots, his best friend, a two-year-old Labrador/golden retriever cross that has been his nearly constant companion since last June.
"The dog has really helped Ryan," says Rory. "It's allowed him to do things he could never do, given him far more independence.
"We take so much for granted. For instance, Ryan can't just go for a walk.
"Ryan is a very social child with very unsocial disabilities.
"Last year, in junior high, he ate lunch by himself all the time. This year, Toots has acted as an intermediary. The kids want to know the dog so they get to know Ryan."
Ryan's wrestling prowess is also accelerating.
"He's very aggressive," says Kelvin Kjenner, 15, one of his practice opponents. "He likes to be the first one to attack.
"We don't treat him differently than anyone else," says Kevin Lomas, coach of the Edmonton Wrestling Club and an assistant with the U of A wrestling club. "He's as good an athlete as anyone else."
Ryan, whose brother Aaron, 13, has no hearing or vision problems, says not many sports lend themselves to the visually impaired. But because it is hands on, he can wrestle.
"It's physical and really challenging. And it's an individual sport," says Kucy, who has practised four or five times a week to get ready for the nationals.
"It's rough. You get your black eyes and cuts and stuff like that but that's all part of the sport. I like a lot of sports. But I can't play hockey or baseball."
Well, maybe hockey. Last year he played using a metal puck about three times regulation size with a ball bearing tumbler inside that makes a noise. He's a very good skater with a decent wrist shot.
And golf?
"Sure. When the weather is nice. Dad points me in the right direction. And when it comes to putting, dad or Aaron stand behind the hole so I can see where it is marked."
Ryan also likes to swim. He has skied.
"We've never not allowed him to do anything ... as long as it's safe," Rory says.
Watching Kucy throw another opponent to the mat, Bezuidenhout remarks: "Given the challenges he has to overcome, the level of his athleticism is pretty amazing."
"I can still get better," Ryan says. "You can't stop improving. It doesn't matter if it is in school or with your business or whatever. Sports isn't the only thing."
Nothing, and nobody, is about to tap him out.
