California Special Olympics Summer Games : A Night of Fireworks, Celebration

It was an Opening Ceremony that David Wolper would have been proud to orchestrate.

There was singing, a parade of athletes in colorful costume, Rafer Johnson and a torch.

But the festivities at UCLA’s Drake Stadium Friday night weren’t a David Wolper production. This bit of pageantry belonged to the more than 2,500 athletes, who are participating in the California Special Olympics Summer Games today and Sunday at UCLA.

Johnson, who carried the Olympic flame up the Coliseum steps in 1984, is president of the board of directors of the California Special Olympics, and the torch was carried into the stadium by a succession of California law enforcement officers and Special Olympians.

While it isn’t difficult to see the shortcomings of these 8- to 70-year-olds, their friendliness and impeccable manners quickly focus attention on their abilities.

“They do and feel the things normal athletes do, whatever normal is,” said Bob Gibson, former president of the North San Diego County Special Olympics.

The crowd at Drake Stadium came to its feet for the Special Olympics anthem and the national anthem, which were sung by the athletes. But no moment did more to demonstrate the abilities of these athletes than the three-song routine performed by the Totally Confident Disabled Drill Team from Los Angeles. The group, which includes a row of partially sighted dancers, deaf cheerleaders and one girl, who was performing the routines with the help of a walker, brought the crowd to its feet without any cue from master of ceremonies Ed Arnold.

For Scott Schickedanz of the Contra Costa County Special Olympics delegation, it was the Fourth of July come early, only better. Oh, there were loud blasts of light and thunder in the sky after Johnson concluded the opening program with the traditional “Let the Games begin,” but the real fireworks came from the participants. And this holiday lasts three days, not just one.

“It’s full of so much fireworks, everything’s just exploding all around me.” Schickedanz said as he waited to march into the stadium where his mother, Carol; father, Bob, and twin brother, Steven, were waiting proudly in the stands, cameras in hand.

“But the people here, and being down here, is more magical than the Fourth of July. There’s more spark and more magic.”

Schickedanz, 24, will be in the bowling competition, where his philosophy is to roll neither gutter balls nor strikes.

“If you’re a bowler, and your average is below 200, like mine (at 84), you have to pick up the spares,” Schickedanz said. “I play a more steady game. I can’t count my chickens too early.”

If Schickedanz were a baseball player, he wouldn’t hit a lot of home runs, but he wouldn’t strike out much either.

But the bowling is pretty much secondary at these Games for Schickedanz. Like most of the Special Olympians, he’s more interested in being on his own for the weekend, even though each delegation has a number of chaperons and coaches, and in seeing Hollywood stars.

For the Special Olympians and their families, the Summer Games are a lot like summer camp, a chance for the athletes to get away from their parents, and a chance for the parents to have some time on their own. But as Gibson explains, it’s not exactly a case of parental neglect.

“It’s not that we want to get rid of them,” said Gibson, whose 13-year-old daughter, Becky, is also entered in the bowling competition. “It’s good for them, too. They have to be totally responsible for themselves, take care of their hair, everything. And it’s not exactly like they’re sorry to be away from us. They make a lot of good friends here.”

The emphasis of the Special Olympics is more on the joy of participation and the reward of a volunteer coach’s hug at the finish line. But the experience also teaches the independence so many of the mentally retarded strive toward.

“I’ll tell you, I love my mom and dad,” Scott said. “I appreciate the things they try to put inside of me, to do things and get out, whether to talk to people or not to talk to people, but I want to be independent.

“I feel like I have to let go. I’m not on my own yet, but I want to be. I would still keep in touch with my parents, but I want to be independent and continue to be productive. That’s my main goal.”

Scott and Steven work in a shop near their hometown of Pinole, producing handcrafted items made from materials such as stained glass and pine cones that are then sold to the community.

“We do it with pride and professionalism,” said Scott. “I think this weekend shows that, too.”

Scott said he went “bonkers” when he received notice in the mail that he would be participating in the state Summer Games, and he said he’s glad his family could join him in Los Angeles, even though Steven couldn’t join him on the Contra Costa County delegation.

But meeting movie stars was the area where Steven had one up on Scott before the games began. Steven, who shares his brother’s interest in bowling and swimming, spotted Scott Baio on the track before the ceremonies when the actor was filming a promotional spot for the International Special Olympics Summer Games. The International Games, held every four years, open the first week of August in South Bend, Ind.

“Scott (Baio) has been in ‘Charles in Charge,’ and ‘Happy Days,’ ” Steven said. “He’s one of my best.”

Said Scott: “He got to do that? I haven’t seen any (movie stars) yet.”

Not until the actual parade began when each delegation was joined by honorary celebrity coaches. No Fourth of July was ever like this for Scott Schickedanz.