ANN ARBOR —The Michigan men’s basketball locker room at Crisler Center is smaller than you think. It’s a tight circle, purposefully intimate. Teammates are meant to be connected, united. The room was built for them to see and hear each other.
It is, though, a lousy place for a wheelchair.
“All right, clear it out,” John Beilein said Sunday afternoon, waving an arm. “Push your stuff away so we have enough room here.”
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Players spread like a dilated pupil. Jude Stamper moved into the middle. After every win, one Michigan player is selected to lead the team in a singing of “The Victors.” It’s usually the individual who had the biggest impact on the day. In Jude’s case, today was nothing. His impact isn’t nicely packaged into one game or one day or one win. Nonetheless, this was his time to lead, so with a nod and a smile to his teammates, Jude began: “OK —one, two, you know what to do, ‘Hail! …’ ”
The circle collapsed in on Jude as the fight song ended, hands grabbing and high-fiving, making it clear that this is no charity case. There is a difference in being told you’re part of a team, and feeling like you’re part of a team. For Jude, he’s as much a Michigan basketball player as anyone could imagine. He’s at practice. He’s at games. He’s in the locker room. He gets pep talks. He gives pep talks.
It just so happens Jude is a 12-year-old with something called arthrogryposis, a condition causing joints to contract, curve and lock; and suffers from Prune-Belly syndrome, a rare condition characterized by a lack of abdominal muscles. When Jude was born, his knees didn’t bend and his feet were clubbed. His first surgery came at three weeks old, releasing the tendons in his legs. His first major surgery to elongate his neck came at age 3. All told, he’s undergone 10 surgeries. There have been endless tests and procedures. EKGs. Skin grafts. Muscle and nerve tests. Broken bones. Physical therapy.
“The first five years or so, it was constant,” said Courtney Stamper, Jude’s mother. “It was a full-time job.”
On Sunday, all that work culminated in a celebration worthy of such selflessness. Jude was the star in Michigan’s 62-47 win over Rutgers. Coaches and staff, along with much of the U-M student section, wore bow ties in his honor. This was all organized as part of Jude’s arrangement with Team Impact, a remarkable nonprofit that pairs children facing chronic illness or disabilities with college teams. He was introduced at midcourt and shown on the big screen.
Get to know Jude, however, and you find out that there’s a lot more going on here than bow ties and hashtags.
Jude Stamper and his father, Nate, center, sing “The Victors,” along with members of the Michigan student section prior to Sunday’s game against Rutgers. (Photo: Dustin Johnston)
The Stampers live in a cozy, modest home in Monroe, Michigan, about 45 minutes southeast of Ann Arbor. The presence of a Saturday morning visitor meant little this weekend. This is a household used to friends and guests blowing in and out. Jude is one of four children, along with Parker, the oldest; and Gabriel and Rowan, the two youngest. They carry jurisdiction over this tight-knit neighborhood with Jude, typically hurtling around in an electric wheelchair, steering a convoy of local kids.
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Jude says he’s fortunate to have a group of siblings and about 10 friends who look out for him and include him. But at the same time, his reality is different. He’s in seventh grade and becoming increasingly aware that he’s growing up. High school is around the corner and Parker, his old sister, is first to say that things are going to be different there. Life gets more complicated. Kids can be meaner, pettier. Whereas he’s led school discussions in bullying at his grade school, things may not be so breezy at a large public high school.
Nate and Courtney, Jude’s parents, are all too aware of this. They’ve served as personal co-pilots for Jude for the last 12 years. They’re at a stage of parenting that’s tough for anyone, but brutally difficult for parents of a special-needs child. It’s almost time to take their hands off the controls.
“We’re getting to the point where, when you have a child with a disability, there’s that fine line of enablement and independence,” Nate Stamper said at the kitchen table, looking across at Jude. “We struggle with that sometimes, still. It’s that fine line, constantly, where we’re helping him grow up on his own, but do so safely, which is almost impossible to do. I have a hard time with it.”
Nate and Courtney talk about all this openly as Jude listens along.
“There’s no reason not to talk about it,” Nate said. “This is our reality. Like it or not, this is what we deal with every single day. So why beat around the bush? We just live and this is our life.”
There have been hard times, like that day playing baseball in the backyard. In order to participate, Jude, then 7 or 8 years old, would hit the ball and another child would run for him. Everyone was having a good time until Nate saw Jude over by the fence, hanging his head. Nate leaned in to see what was wrong. “Dad,” Jude said, “I just want to run.” Life isn’t fair, but that’s especially cruel.
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The goal has always been to build Jude up. That’s why Courtney spun around when she heard about Larry Prout, a 15-year-old from Howell.
Prout was born with spina bifida and endured 90 surgeries, spending most of his life in and out of U-M’s Mott Hospital. In October 2016, Courtney saw Prout on the news, sitting next to Jim Harbaugh in a news conference as the newest member of the Michigan football team. “What is that all about,” she thought. Courtney jotted down the name, Team IMPACT, and went to Google. She gave it a shot and applied.
A few days later, Kiernan McGeehan, Team IMPACT’s Midwest rep, called to say Jude was accepted, but didn’t know which team he’d be placed with. There was a possible team at Wayne State and a possible team at Eastern Michigan. Secretly, they hoped for Michigan. Jude is a lifelong Wolverines fan. His bedroom is a shrine to the maize and blue.
This past fall, as the Stampers waited for their team match, Beilein attended a U-M men’s soccer match with his daughter, Seana (Beilein) Hendricks. They sat with soccer coach Chaka Daley’s family, who were joined by young Aiden Hansen, a Team IMPACT member who is paired with the soccer program. Beilein introduced himself to the Hansens, learned about the program and decided Michigan basketball could use a new member, too.
“It was a totally coincidental meeting,”Hendricks recalls.
Soon after, in late August, Beilein hired Chinedu Nwachukwu as Michigan basketball’s new director of program personnel. Beilein told him one of his first tasks was to contact Team IMPACT and get the ball rolling. Nwachukwu called McGeehan and, just like that, an alliance was formed and lives were changed. “Oh, I have just the kid for you,” McGeehan burst whenNwachukwu reached out.
“That’s how it went down,” Courtney said. “I call it divine intervention. We’re spiritual people. We believe in God. I just feel like he was sort of lining this up and Coach Beilein was inspired. I don’t think there’s any way to deny that.”
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“It’s incredible,” Nate added. “When you start to piece all the pieces together, it’s like, I don’t know —there’s a plan in place here. We’re just part of that plan. We’re so thankful.”
No one quite anticipated what this would become, though. The Stampers were thinking Jude would have a news conference of his own, maybe attend a practice and a few games, maybe meet some players and snap a picture with Beilein.
Not quite.
“Juuuuuuuuude,” Michigan players rumbled on Sunday as Nate pushed Jude’s wheelchair into the locker room.
“How cool is that?” Nate whispered, glancing over and shaking his head. It never gets old.
This is what’s behind the bow ties. Michigan has enfolded Nate into the program. Anytime the Stampers worry they’re imposing or overstepping, they’re told to take a step further. Nwachukwu, who runs point between the program and the Stampers, pushes them to do more. In the beginning, the family was expecting game tickets for Jude and one parent. Instead, there have been tickets for the whole family, and Parker, Gabriel and Rowan can all attend practices with their brother.
Players are going above and beyond. Moe Wagner gave Jude his cell phone number and exchanges text messages. A few players shared their Xbox screen names and play Jude in video games remotely. They all talk on Houseparty, a group video chat app. Isaiah Livers, Duncan Robinson and Muhammad-Ali Abdur-Rahkman have hung out with Jude. Eli Brooks sat with him at the U-M women’s game on Saturday.
Jude watches film with the team and visits the locker room before and after home games. He loves the pregame speeches, especially from assistant Luke Yaklich. “Coach Luke, he takes a lot of pride in his defense, so he always has the best speeches,” Jude said. “He gets fired up.”
Beilein addresses Jude first every time he’s in the locker room. Before Sunday’s game, on the way out to the floor, he stopped to tell Jude: “We love you with everything we got.” Jude welled up.
There have been plenty of tears in his 12-year story, but these are the good ones.
“I really can’t believe sometimes that all of this has happened,” Jude said Sunday, watching the first half at Crisler. He didn’t think too long about it because there wasn’t much time for sentiment. His teammates were out there and this, he said, was a big game. Coming off a loss at Nebraska on Thursday, a couple of the guys asked Jude for advice. He told them: “It’s OK to lose. All we need to do is improve.”
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As the game began, Jude started dropping knowledge. His favorite sport used to be football. Now it’s clearly basketball.
After a slow start, Beilein subbed Jaaron Simmons in for starting guard Zavier Simpson. It was pointed out to Jude that the substitution came earlier than usual. “They’re mixing it up a little,” he replied. “It’s smart. Maybe Jaaron can get them going.”
The offense did indeed get going and, midway through the half, Jude leaned over to say, “We are really getting points from our bench,” an astute observation that the basketball beat writer sitting next to him hadn’t picked up on.
Then came a string of empty Rutgers possessions and a big smile. “We are playing elite defense right now,” Jude said. “Coach Luke is going to be happy about that.”
Jude has always been outgoing and talkative. When he was 3, a doctor told Courtney: “Jude could talk a curvy line straight,” but being an extrovert doesn’t necessarily equate to the self-confidence and self-assurance to navigate growing up. That’s what the Stampers have been trying to build for Jude. That’s what this mighty assist from Michigan basketball represents.
Courtney sees the difference in Jude every day.
“This has changed everything,” she said standing courtside early Sunday. “It’s very overwhelming. It’s hard to put into words. When I say this is like a dream —it really is. I think about it all the time.”
Team IMPACT is a two-year commitment between each program and each child, but both sides have the option to continue the relationship. Since starting on this journey a few months ago, the Stampers have wondered what will happen when their time is up. “Not sure,” Courtney said. “We’ll see.”
Well, they don’t have to wait to find out. Turns out, there will always be space in that locker room.
“Jude isn’t going anywhere,” Beilein said late Sunday. “Whether it’s through Team IMPACT or just as a friend of the program, he will always have a place here. We’re all-in as long as he’s all-in.”
(Top photo: Dustin Johnston)
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