DaytonDailyNews.com

KETTERING — With just over four minutes left in the fourth quarter, the chants began to fill Trent Arena:

"Mat-ty ... Mat-ty ... Mat-ty."

On the Fairmont High School bench, Matty Kauffman — the chunky 5-foot senior with the retro 00 jersey, the daylong smile now bulged by an unfamiliar plastic mouthpiece and those legs that just wouldn't stopping jittering — heard the cheers.

He looked toward the Firebirds' student section and gave his vocal supporters the thumbs-up sign, as if to say, "OK, I'm ready."

In truth, he was more than ready, and leaning over to Jeremy Finn, the JV coach sitting next to him, he said: "Coach, I can't stop my legs from shaking."

He handed Finn his wire rim glasses, and for the second time in the quarter, the coach handed them back: "Not yet, Matty."

It's understandable that Matty was raring to go. He'd been waiting for this moment for four years, ever since head coach Hank Bias had made him the basketball manager, a job that soon grew into something so much bigger.

A kid with Down syndrome and an upbeat personality, Matty became the lifeblood of this team as much as its high-scoring star, Lamar Skeeter.

He became the pal of the players, the animated motivator of the crowd and the coach's caring conscience. "Coach, you don't need to yell at them, you got to be nicer," he was known to innocently, but earnestly, whisper to Bias after a little locker room fire and brimstone. "And no cussing."

Nick Molz, one of the Firebirds' captains, told how Matty might call him the night before a game and give him a "little motivational speech" that he'd first written out on a note pad:

"Sometimes he gives a speech to the team before the game, too. Other times he'll draw some pictures or draw up a few plays for us. Matty does everything he can to help this team."

And Friday night — Senior Night, his last regular-season game ever — he hoped to do the ultimate. He wanted to help the Firebirds against Springfield North by actually playing.

Bias — who'd put Matty on his eligibility sheet at the start of the season just in case such a moment would arise — talked to North coach Eddie Ford about the idea in the past and by Thursday night Matty's fantasies were so fueled, he gave his folks, Tim and Deb Kauffman, special instructions before he went to bed:

"He wanted us to wake him up in the morning by introducing him," Tim laughed.

Deb nodded and in an announcer's voice intoned: "And now ... here he is ... senior Matt Kauffman!!!"

Matty has always given more than he's taken

Matty's first introduction to life was even more breathtaking. In fact, he wasn't breathing at all.

"His heart had just two chambers and a big hole in it, and when his breathing stopped, I had to undergo an emergency C section," Deb said. "Right from the start, Matt had to beat the odds."

By the time he was 8 months old, he'd had two open heart surgeries. At 5, he had a nonfunctioning kidney removed. To date he's had 14 surgeries on his ears.

Yet, Tim soon learned that instead of having a child born with less, he'd gotten a son who had so much more to offer:

"As Matt has grown up, he's the one who nurtures, who loves and helps us experience so much of what is right. He's got a heart of gold. If Deb and I would argue, he'd come up and go, "OK, group hug.' He makes everything better."

Four years ago, Bias must have sensed that when he met Matt — just transferred in from Beavercreek — and asked if he'd like to help with the basketball team.

"It's made him feel like he's part of something special," Deb said. "You don't know how much that means. No matter what the statistics say, we're very far from total integration of kids with disabilities. There's still a lot of prejudice. But what this team has done is just wonderful."

Bias, though, believes Matty is the giver more than the taker:

"Sure we're trying to win games, but there's a bigger picture here. You try to learn some life lessons along the way, too, and Matt has taught us all about human dignity and respect."

No matter what

Although Matty's jersey and shorts weren't quite the same as his teammates, 6-foot-4 junior Drew Sawyer wanted to make sure he looked the part and gave him his warm-up jacket before the team left the locker room.

After escorting his parents and two younger brothers — Nicholas and Jackson — onto the court for Senior Night introductions, Matty went through pregame chest bumps with the starters and then took a seat next to Finn.

During the first timeout, he went through his regular routine — running along the stands beyond the baseline to slap the extended palms of the raucous Firebirds students. Then he high-stepped across each letter of the school name painted on the out of bounds strip. In unison, the crowd called out each lettered step: "F...A...I...R...M...O...N...T"

But by the fourth quarter, routine was replaced by palpable anticipation. As the chants grew louder, Matty told Finn: "I know what I have to do. Coach (Bias) told me I need to box out, have my hands up and rebound."

Finn grinned: "You got it Matty. You're ready."

And with 3:04 left, Bias called Matty, who jumped up, flipped his glasses to Finn and — in a move worthy of Clark Kent turning into Superman — made a beeline straight for the scorer's table.

As he came flying by, Bias snagged his arm. It wasn't time yet, he just wanted Matty next to him. And when Skeeter — who'd just scored 24 points — came out of the game, he headed straight to Matty, pulled their heads together and whispered some instruction.

"I told him to have fun," Skeeter said. "I said no matter what happens, we're all proud of you. We love you."

And with 1:20 left, Bias called time, wrapped his arm around Matty's shoulders and led him to the scorer.

The crowd and the players were chanting Matty's name and when the Firebirds brought the ball down the court, the pass went to Matty on the wing.

The North defenders backed off a step and Matty let loose with a shot that missed. Fairmont rebounded, got the ball back to him and he missed again. But on the third attempt — with 56.4 seconds left — Matty sent a laser shot to the hoop that was perfect.

The place went nuts.

Bias was in tears on the bench. So was Finn.

And when the final buzzer sounded, when Fairmont had won 58-30, the crowd poured onto the court and engulfed Matty.

From the top of the stands, Deb came barreling down the stairs in four-inch heels, tears flowing. Tim's eyes were brimming, too: "This is the happiest day of my life. This is what makes parenting all worth it. To see your son exonerated by everyone, to see him praised by everyone is tremendous."

Eventually Bias took Matty to the dressing room of the North team that had just finished its regular season 0-18. After the rough year, he knew the players didn't have to show the compassion they had and he wanted them to know what they'd done:

"I'll never forget, Matty never will, none of us will. What you guys did tonight was ... was Christ-like. You and your coach are class acts. Thank you very much."

Back in the Firebirds quarters, Matty tried to come to grips with what just had happened:

"I'm just happy we won 'cause we needed this ... I was a little nervous ... I'd never played basketball until I did today, but I think I did my best ... And that shot, I think it was sooo good."

Molz grinned: "It was the best. ... For all of us, this was a once in a lifetime experience. Tonight, we were part of something special."