Remembering When 'He's Great!' Was More Than Enough
Everyone needs to be told that they’re OK, that somebody really likes them, that they’re good at what they do.
Everyone needs to hear those sort of uplifting things from both friend and stranger because, regardless of what kind of gumption we’re made of, we all have days—or weeks—when we are down on ourself, on others, on life in general. But no one ever cheers up when someone tells you to. It’s akin to not feeling much better when someone tells you not to be depressed anymore. It takes more than a “cheer up!” order to snap you out of the doldrums.
Someone has to tell us we’re somebody special—and mean it.
Democratic presidential candidate the Rev. Jesse Jackson, regardless of what you think of his politlcal views, knows how to make folks feel good. And anyone who entered the Conval High gym depressed shouldn’t have left the same way after hearing the candidate’s adrenalin-producing sermonette that Thursday.
But there was one in particular in the large crowd who could have used a special boost, and the Rev. Jackson searched him out—with the help of nearly 800 Conval students. Jackson wanted to know if Conval had a good basketball team, and when he was given an emphatic “Yes!”, he wanted to know who was on the team.
Guard Gerald Kelley, stuck in a recent slump, couldn’t have been closer to the lectern even if Jackson had arranged it that way ahead of time. But Gerald wasn’t anxious to stand up and face not only candidate Jackson but some bright TV lights (which he squinted at and backed away from), and dozens of odd-shaped microphones.’’
Finally, slowly, the standout playmaker on Conval’s tourney-bound basketball team rose to his feet. Loud cheers and whistles from the crowd.
“Are you good?,” Jackson asked from the platform. There was a hidden smile, but no response.
“I said, are you good?”, the candidate grinned. Still nothing from Gerald.
“He’s great!” yelled a student from the corner of the gym. More cheers and whistles.
Two words. Two words which carried more clout than all the cheers and whistles a player hears during the normal course of a ballgame.
Two nights earlier at Bishop Brady, Gerald was in the midst of his scoring funk. It was written on his countenance, and though he mustered enough spunk to dish off several key assists late in the game, “GK” was someone who needed a boost.
Though not thrilled with the idea of being interviewed by the Rev. Jackson in front of hundreds of friends and thousands of strangers, Gerald nevertheless began to respond to the situation. He became more relaxed, and laughed when everyone else did, and smiled more freely.
And just when Gerald thought Jackson was through…the candidate called him up to the lectern:
In front of the whole world, the Rev. Jackson said, “Gerald, you’re my main man!
A much bigger smile…
…What transpired some four hours later was a Gerald Kelley metamorphosis. His teammates and Conval basketball fans saw the player he was before the pre-Brady swoon—tough, scrappy, refusing to quit, and possessing a deadly outside shot which produced 29 points in a big win over once-beaten Monadnock.
Conval teammates and supporters will look back on a great win against Monadnock on the last day of the regular season, which gave them momentum for the state state tournament. They will point to super team play, and never-ceasing desires, and determination to defeat one of the state’s finest teams.
But add to that list a visit from a charismatic political candidate, which inspired a friend in front of 800 others to yell that “he’s great!,” which inspired the candidate himself to encourage the slump-plagued guard before the whole world, “Gerald, you’re my main man!”
No one had to tell “GK” to cheer up. They picked him up instead.
