To: Columbia Pictures, Warner Bros., Disney, Paramount, MGM, etc.
Dear Sirs;
Have I got a feel-good sports movie for you.
This is "Rudy" times 10.
This is a true story, and the trailer goes something like this: A school custodian at a small university makes the school's basketball team. It takes him years, but he actually gets some playing time and finally earns a basketball scholarship halfway through his senior year.
He's not going to make the NBA, but he's already working on an MBA.
Oh, and did we mention this: He has one hand.
Dax Crum, a 6-foot-2 guard at Southern Utah University, was born without a right hand. All he has is a small, stunted digit at the end of his wrist that serves as a partial finger.
Somehow, he has made himself into a solid college basketball player. He has seen action in 10 of 19 games this season, collecting 12 points, 2 steals, 3 rebounds, 8 assists and 7 turnovers in 59 minutes of action. But his recent emergence as a defensive stopper (more on that later) can't be measured by numbers.
The weird thing is, opposing players often don't even notice the hand until the post-game handshake. One rival player grabbed Crum's right "hand" and stopped in mid-shake. Holding up both lines, he held it close to his face, studied it a moment, then looked at Crum and continued moving down the line without saying anything. Other players have been more vocal. "What happened to your hand, man? Or: Holy *#&!, how are you doing that? Or: You aren't the same kid who was out there, are you?
Crum has adapted to his one-handed game so well — shooting, catching, dribbling to his right — that one teammate confessed he didn't notice the hand for the first three days of practice.
Coach Roger Reid was predictably skeptical when he first saw Crum shortly after taking over the school's basketball program last fall. "He wasn't going to just give me a spot on the team, that's for sure," says Crum. The coach gently told Crum all the reasons he shouldn't play basketball — he could devote more time to his MBA pursuits and to his wife, Ashley, his chance of playing was slim, he could use his afternoons to earn more money, etc.
Crum's reply: "I appreciate that, but I just want to play."
Crum had heard all this before, every step of the way. Coaches in Little League, high school, junior college and college all looked at that right stump and told him, as kindly as possible, that the odds were stacked against him making the team.
"Pretty much every coach I had tried to discourage me," he says. "It always takes a while to prove myself."
Raised in the small New Mexico town of Kirtland, Crum grew up in a family of athletes. His father, Richard, was a multi-sport prep star, and all six of his children were good prep athletes.
Richard refused to buy Velcro-strapped sneakers for his son, telling him he couldn't start school until he could tie his shoes. Crum practiced for hours one day until he came up with a method for tying the laces with one hand.
"Everything takes awhile to figure out, like buttoning up shirts, little things like that," he says.
Sports were no different. In baseball, he figured out a method for catching and throwing the ball. He caught the ball with the glove on his left hand, tossed the ball in the air, removed the glove by tucking it under his right arm, caught the ball with his left hand and threw it, all in one swift motion.
He participated in four sports at Kirtland Central High — basketball, track, soccer and baseball. He and Richard, who became a high school teacher and assistant basketball coach so he could help his son, worked year-round practicing whatever sport was in season at the time. In the winter, they practiced basketball in school and church gyms at all hours. In the spring, they arose at dawn to practice the high hurdles, and in the afternoon Crum went to baseball practice.
Crum played on three state championship basketball teams and was named first-team all-state as a senior. He accepted a soccer scholarship to Arizona Western College, but while he was there he walked on and made the basketball team, breaking into the starting lineup as a sophomore. He averaged about seven points a game and became such a defensive force that he was nicknamed "The Pest." When he swatted the ball away from an opponent with his right "hand," teammates said he was "daxed."
Crum turned down two Division I scholarship offers to play soccer at Cal-Irvine and Dayton so he could play basketball at SUU as a walk-on. "It's been tough finding teams that will take one-handed players," he says. Soccer would seem to be a natural for someone with his handicap, but basketball was his first love (he plays soccer for a club team in Cedar City), and he pursued it even though it meant sacrifices.
By passing up scholarship offers, he had to hold down three jobs to support himself and his wife, Ashley. Besides attending practice and class, he worked 35 to 40 hours a week as a campus custodian, an intern at Northwestern Mutual Financial Network, and as a desk attendant at a fitness center. When a scholarship was vacated in January, Reid gave it to Crum, which enabled him to quit two jobs. He continues to work as a custodian, waking up at 5:30 each morning to dust, mop, scrub carpets, clean tables and bathrooms and, on snowy days, shovel walkways.
"The bad days are when it snows," says Crum, who works until 8:30 a.m. and then goes to class.
Crum broke into the starting lineup for two games during his junior season, but a separated shoulder put him on the bench for six weeks, and he never regained his spot. When it appeared he would see little action last year, he elected to redshirt the season. In the interim, he joined the football team as a cornerback and placekicker and completed his undergrad degree in finance. He returned this year to finish his basketball career and begin work on an MBA.
"I told him he could try out for the team, but the chances of him playing were remote," says Reid. "No way I ever thought he'd play."
He won Reid's respect with his hustle and passion for the game, but most of Crum's play was limited to garbage time for the 5-14 T-Birds, at the end of big losses; that is, until he got his big chance against Missouri-Kansas City. Reid tried one player after another to try to stop UMKC's Dane Brumigan, who was en route to a 33-point night.
Reid looked down the bench and saw Crum. "I thought, this guy is playing his tail off every day in practice and guarding people," recalls Reid. "Let's get him in a game."
In 16 minutes of action, Crum brought Brumigan's scoring spree to a halt and then hit a three-point shot himself for good measure. "For 16 minutes he was all over him," says Reid. "He didn't let him breathe."
Afterward, Brumigan told FoxSports.com reporter Jeff Goodman, "Honestly, you can't even really tell he has a disability. You've got to treat him like everyone else. He's playing Division I basketball, and he's a good player. He was right up there with anyone else who has guarded me this year, but he's pretty inspirational. It's amazing."
In the three games since then, Crum's playing time has slipped (nine minutes total). "I'm not done proving myself just 'cause I got my name in the paper," says Crum.
Crum has been an inspiration for others who are trying to overcome similar handicaps. People write letters wanting to know how he manages various tasks. The parents of a 5-year-old handicapped boy say they plan to travel four hours so their son can see Crum perform when the T-Birds play at Western Illinois this week.
"I know this sounds trite," says Reid. "But this is what athletics is about — character, dedication, commitment. What Dax is doing is remarkable."
E-mail: drob@desnews.com

