Gilroy
– He swims. He plays the drums. He likes hanging out with his
buddies and loves any type of video game.
He held a steady job at the outlets and now has moved on to a
second store. He held a steady girlfriend and now knows the
heartache that comes with breaking up.
Gilroy – He swims. He plays the drums. He likes hanging out with his buddies and loves any type of video game.
He held a steady job at the outlets and now has moved on to a second store. He held a steady girlfriend and now knows the heartache that comes with breaking up.
Robert Mendez, a junior at Gilroy High, isn’t all that different than any other 16-year-old male living the teenage life. The same interests. The same classes. The same occasional drama.
So he needs a little help while eating or brushing his teeth or getting dressed. So he spends nearly every waking hour in a wheelchair. So he was born with no legs and no arms.
So what.
“I don’t want people feeling sorry for me, because I don’t feel sorry for myself,” said Mendez, a quad amputee since birth. “I always try to look at the positive side of things.
“If you always look at the negative side, what is that good for? You’d always be down about something.”
Mendez rarely gets down about anything.
“Never has really,” said Kathy Visperas, a GUSD employee and his one-on-one paraprofessional since kindergarten. “He’s constantly upbeat.”
“I remember he was such a happy baby,” recalled his father, Bob Mendez. “He was always smiling … never crying. He’s pretty much always been like that.”
It’s that kind of attitude that continues to inspire a countless number of people in this community, including the entire varsity roster of the Gilroy High football team, a program Mendez has been involved in for the last three years as a manager.
He never misses a practice. Never misses a game. Never misses a team meal.
“He’s as much a part of the team as anybody,” senior safety Jared Kaczorowski said. “Robert has been there since the start and we know if he’d had the chances we had, he’d be in the same spot. He’s an inspiration to us.”
He’s not only an inspiration, though. He’s a friend and a teammate. He’s just another one of the guys.
Mendez and the rest of the juniors on the team are a particularly close-knit group.
“We’ve all hung out since we were young,” junior tailback Justin Sweeney said. “We’re friends. He’s no different than anyone else.”
That means, of course, that he gets teased – just like anyone else.
He’ll crack on them about a bad play. They’ll crack on him about his height. He’ll run over their feet whenever they get new shoes. They’ll briefly turn off what they call “the little red kill switch” on the back of his motorized wheelchair.
Sound brutal? Insensitive, even?
Mendez knows better. He wouldn’t want it any other way. After all, he said he’s the one who tells backup quarterbacks Chris Velasco and Nick Tovar that “they’d be my backup, too, if I had arms and legs.”
“Every other guys gets heckled,” Mendez said. “I like that. If they weren’t doing it, I’d probably think I wasn’t part of the team.”
He’s part of the team – there should be no doubt about that.
When several of the Mustangs traveled to a San Jose State football game last fall, they packed up his wheelchair in the back of somebody’s truck like they always do.
At the game, however, he wasn’t allowed to place his chair anywhere near where the guys were sitting. And that wasn’t acceptable to the players.
“We didn’t want to leave him there, so we just picked him up and brought him with us,” senior cornerback Shea Lemos said. “He sat on my lap for half the game and then with (linebacker) Joe Cano.
“If he was uncomfortable, he would just sit on the seat and we’d put our arms out so he could lean on us.”
That’s just how it works with Mendez and his teammates. He can do most things on his own, but when he’s at the team meals, the players will quietly break up his food and help him eat.
When they can tell he’s getting a little chilly at practice, somebody will make sure to put a jacket around him. When they can tell he’s feeling a little left out over at his isolated spot on the team bus, a few of them will make sure he’s part of the conversation.
“A lot of times teenagers think of themselves first,” Gilroy head coach Darren Yafai said. “But Robert and his buddies have all grown up together and they all take care of each other.
“No one ever looks around to see who should help him, either. Somebody always just automatically takes it upon himself.”
That fact doesn’t go unnoticed on Mendez.
“They’ve treated me well,” he said. “They’re good guys and I appreciate them. I hope they know that.”
GHS offensive coordinator Tim Pierleoni said Mendez returns the appreciation in full.
It’s more than just helping run drills in two-a-days. Or wearing a headset and sharing his advice during the games.
“What he’s brought that people don’t see is the caring part,” Pierleoni said. “The guys on this team care about each other, and they don’t mind showing it. And Robert helps with that tremendously. I truly believe that.”
Pierleoni won’t get much of an argument from the Mustangs. According to Lemos, moments like the Mendez-to-player “shoulder-pound” – as opposed to the popular “fist-pound” – gives everyone on the sidelines “an extra boost.”
“He brings the team together,” Lemos said. “It’s unfortunate he’s unable to play, but he’s definitely the heart and soul of this team.”
He’s also a part of just about everything they do, including the non-stop PlayStation sessions of Madden football.
Sweeney called Mendez “one of the best Madden players there is,” and even junior cornerback/video game king Jay Raven conceded he’d lost to him a time or two.
In case you’re wondering, Mendez lies on the floor and places the controller under his chin. According to his dad, this dates back to when he started playing Super Mario Brothers at the age of 2.
“And he knew what he was doing,” Bob Mendez said. “Whatever Robert has done, he’s caught on fast.”
The list is long and includes swimming, skiing, playing the piano and – in addition to selling shoes at Puma – typing up company documents with the help of a wand and a mouthpiece.
“You’ve always got to be active,” the younger Mendez said. “Life would be boring if not.”
His life is anything but boring. In addition to helping out with the GHS baseball team and announcing at several Mustang sporting events, Mendez has also helped coach a Gilroy Little League team for the past two summers.
That experience has convinced him to pursue a future career in coaching – most likely in the sport of football.
“Obviously I can’t play,” Mendez said, “so this is the closest thing possible.”
Much to his delight, it seems the first door was cracked opened just a few days ago. After the varsity team’s playoff win at Independence Saturday, longtime freshmen assistant coach Rich Bloom asked Mendez if he’d like to help coach next season.
Nothing is finalized, but the move seems likely to happen.
“At first, you might see Robert as disadvantaged or being dealt a bad hand of cards,” Bloom said. “But once you get to know him, you lose that part and he becomes a smart, intelligent young man who knows a heck of a lot about football.
“I know he’s an inspiration to me and an inspiration to a lot of people in this city.”
As for Mendez, he admits to playing the “what if” game on the rarest of occasions. Maybe he could have starred on the football team. Maybe he could have led his team to a playoff victory. Maybe …
That’s about as far as it gets, though.
“I’m happy and healthy and everyone in Gilroy has been so helpful,” Mendez said. “What do I have to complain about?”
As the holiday season approaches, Mendez said he’s got plenty to be thankful for.
“First, I’m thankful for life, because the No. 1 gift is life,” he said. “And I’m also thankful for everything I can do. Yeah it’s unfortunate I can’t play, but there’s a lot of people that can’t do what they wanna do. I’m just thankful for everything else.
“And I’m thankful for all the people here who have helped me along the way. I don’t think I’d be the same without them.”
Judging from the sentiment his name evokes from teammates, classmates and strangers alike, at least one thing seems quite clear.
Without Mendez, Gilroy wouldn’t quite be the same, either.
