A System Designed to Fail.
It is 11 PM on a Tuesday. Maria sits alone at her kitchen table, the glow of her laptop illuminating the dark room. Her 14-year-old son Leo was injured in a car accident three months ago. The doctors say he'll never walk again.
Leo used to live for basketball. It was his identity, his community, his escape. Since the accident, he hasn't left his room except for physical therapy. The spark in his eyes is gone.
Maria heard somewhere that wheelchair basketball exists. Tonight, she's determined to find it for her son. She searches. And searches. She clicks through broken links, outdated websites, and dead email addresses. Phone numbers lead to voicemails that are never returned.
She finds a program 200 miles away. The registration form asks questions she doesn't understand—classification levels, equipment requirements, insurance waivers she's never seen before. She has no idea how to get a sports wheelchair or what one even costs.
At 1 AM, Maria closes her laptop. Leo stays on the sidelines. Another kid who could have been saved by sport slips through the cracks of a broken system.
The Discovery Failure
The front door is hidden. Critical information is scattered across outdated, non-mobile-friendly websites, making it impossible for a worried parent to find answers.
The Education Failure
The rulebook is written for experts. Beginners are left with fundamental questions about rules, equipment, and classification, creating a massive barrier to entry.
The Economic Failure
The price of admission is a five-figure wall. A single piece of equipment can cost more than a car, stopping countless families before they even start.
Kids Left on the Sidelines.
This is a solvable crisis of access. We were built to solve it.