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When the Portland Trail Blazers were in Utah on Feb. 24, there was a special meeting after the game. Danny Berger, a 34-year-old former basketball player at Utah State, reconnected with former NBA player and now Blazers assistant coach Ryan Gomes.

They met years before in Connecticut at a charity golf tournament held by Gomes, but this meeting before the Jazz game carried some added perspective. In tow with Berger was his wife, Taylor, and two kids, 2 1/2-year-old son Logan and 3-month-old daughter Avery.

If it wasn’t for Gomes, Danny Berger likely wouldn’t be here today. No reunion. No marriage. No family. Without Gomes, Berger likely would have died on the basketball court in 2012.

“The more I go on in life, the more I am grateful for him,” Berger said. “I have a family of my own now and a second chance at life. I can’t thank him enough, because ‘thank you’ doesn’t do it justice.”

It was Dec. 4, 2012, and the 6-foot-7 Berger was completing a practice with Utah State in preparation for its game against BYU the next day.

“It was the very end of practice, and we were going through BYU’s plays,” Berger remembered. “I got scored on, and that’s the last thing I remember.”

Berger had gone into sudden cardiac arrest.

Three months earlier, Utah State was among 12 Division I schools that answered an email from Gomes offering to donate an automated external defibrillator (AED). The eight-year NBA veteran had become an AED advocate in 2006, when Stanley Myers, an 18-year-old who played for the same AAU team as Gomes, died while jogging on the Morgan State University campus because of sudden cardiac arrest.

When Myers died, Gomes was in his second NBA season with the Boston Celtics and beginning to form his foundation. He decided he wanted to combat sudden cardiac arrest and vowed to donate an AED to every NBA city. In 2012, after stops with the Minnesota Timberwolves and the LA Clippers, he expanded his reach to colleges, writing to all Division I schools asking if they needed an AED. Twelve schools responded, among them Utah State.

When Berger went down, teammates raced to the AED that had been hanging on the wall for only three months.

There were many who played a part in saving Berger — the teammates who ran to get the AED, the Utah State athletic trainers who used the device and the emergency medical technicians who life flighted him to Salt Lake City — but Berger says if Gomes hadn’t donated the AED, he wouldn’t be here today.

Gomes refers to Berger as “a save” — one of three he knows of because of his donations — and he still remembers getting the call with the confirmation that Berger was going to survive.

“Like, you know that these things save people’s lives, but until you get that call like I got from Danny, that he’s going to be fine, it really becomes magnified,” Gomes said. “It’s still a very emotional part of this for me.”

At the postgame meet in Utah, Gomes said Berger thanked him and told him how often he thinks about him.

“When I heard him say that, it made me really look back and say, ‘Wow, man. I helped someone still be here today.’ And that was very emotional,” said Gomes, now 42. “It really hits home.”


Gomes remembers returning in 2006 to his hometown of Waterbury, Conn., on a high after playing 61 games for the Celtics as a rookie, averaging 7.6 points and 4.9 rebounds. But he also recalls quickly being grounded by the news of Myers’ sudden death at Morgan State.

“I just remember the pain and how the community was devastated,” Gomes said. “No one knew this was something that could happen to a young, healthy adult. He was just outside, running.”

He was engulfed in emotions. He felt fear — countless times he had worked out to exhaustion, could this happen to him? There was also frustration that there was nothing on campus to help Myers in his time of need. And mostly, Gomes said he felt an urge to make a difference.

“It hit me hard. My career was jumpstarting, and I felt like I was in a position to do something,” Gomes said. “I wanted to be a voice for this. I thought I could take the initiative and push awareness.”

He started reading about sudden cardiac arrest and the value of AEDs. His initial vision was to donate one AED in honor of Myers. Unsure of how to launch such an initiative, he remembered reading about Rachel Moyer, a Pennsylvania mom who was a prominent voice in AED awareness. He called Moyer, and everything took off.

Moyer had lost her son, Greg, in 2000 when he collapsed in the locker room at halftime of his first high school varsity game in Pennsylvania. She said it took paramedics 42 minutes to arrive, and when they did, they didn’t have an AED. A second ambulance with an AED arrived 10 minutes later.

“That night, I really believe if he had to leave us, he left us with something to do: and that was get AEDs everywhere,” Moyer said.

When Moyer met Gomes in 2006, the two collaborated and started dreaming. Gomes wanted to put an AED in every NBA city. Moyer wanted to go even further, placing them in schools, police cars and restaurants.

Moyer had buried her son years prior, but didn’t place a headstone on the grave.

“We made a promise that we wouldn’t put a headstone on Greg’s grave until there was an AED in every school in this country,” said Moyer, who works with the American Heart Association.

Gomes said Moyer has become his “second mom” and she helps with his foundation, Hoops for Heart Health, in identifying places of need and working with Zoll, the company that helps provide the donated AEDs. Moyer said Gomes has donated 110 AEDs over the last 20 years.

After his NBA career ended with Oklahoma City in 2014, Gomes played overseas for two seasons. He entered coaching in 2021, where he was the head coach of Overtime Elite for two seasons while also serving as an assistant coach for the Nets’ G League team in Long Island.

Now in his second second year as a player development coach in Portland, Gomes said he sometimes pays the entirety of the cost, which is around $2,000 per device, although organizations sometimes help with what their budget can afford. This month, he presented an AED to Philadelphia nonprofit Philly Got Game, which hosts games for high school- and college-age leagues, and has plans to donate one in New York City before the March 30 game against the Knicks, as well as two yet-t0-be-determined Portland establishments.

His donations have ranged from YMCAs to Boys & Girls Clubs to schools and restaurants.

“I say they are like car insurance: You want to have it, just in case,” Gomes said.


Today, Berger says every week there will be moments when he stops and thinks about Gomes and how his donation helped save his life.

“Just random moments throughout the day or the week where I’m just like, ‘Man, I’m lucky,'” Berger, 34, said. “There’s like an 8 percent survival rate for out-of-hospital cardiac arrest, and I’m one of them. And it was so close to going the other way. So I’m so, so, grateful.”

After sitting out a year, Berger returned to play at Utah State, then transferred to Division II BYU-Hawaii before playing two years professionally in Germany. Throughout, he stayed in contact with the doctor who installed an implantable cardioverter defibrillator in his chest the day of his event. He had majored in business administration, but found himself drawn to the medical field. When the doctor alerted him to an opening at a medical device company in Salt Lake City, Berger jumped at the opportunity.

He is now the territory manager of the company’s cardiac rhythm division.

“I knew after my event that I wanted to get into this space, because it affected me a lot,” Berger said. “So this huge trial in my life has turned into a huge blessing. My career now is an industry that I didn’t even know existed before my event.”

So, it was more than just the normal meet-and-greet after the Portland-Utah game on Feb. 24. It was a thank you, with perspective.

“People have asked me, ‘What do you say to him?'” Berger said when he tells them about Gomes. “And I say, well, I want to thank him, but he doesn’t expect that, and he doesn’t necessarily want that. He’s like, ‘I’m doing it for everybody else.’ But I try to remind him. Because I think sometimes when you are doing the work he does with foundations, it can seem meaningless and not getting the outcomes you want. But I’m a testament that’s not always true.”

Gomes said he feels uncomfortable with the praise because it’s not what motivates him. There are too many areas without the proper equipment, too many lives in jeopardy, so he’s busy looking for the next place to deliver an AED.

“I believe when God gives you something that can change lives, you have to act on it,” Gomes said. “For me, it’s always about helping the next person in life.”

Posted

Behind Timberwolves’ decision to start Joe Ingles so his autistic son could see him play

About 35 minutes before the Minnesota Timberwolves were set to tip off against the New Orleans Pelicans on Friday night, an eruption could be heard in the back hallways of Target Center. It came from the locker room, and the timing seemed odd for a team that was in the doldrums after two straight dispiriting losses to teams that had no business winning in this building. It came from an announcement from head coach Chris Finch, just before the regular game plan meeting began.

As the team gathered around, Finch told them they had the chance to do something special on this night. He wasn’t talking about getting revenge on the Pelicans, who embarrassed them two nights prior. He wasn’t talking about closing the gap on the Golden State Warriors for the coveted No. 6 seed in the Western Conference playoff chase. He was talking about doing something for one of their own and a family that has been through hell.

Finch told his team that he was giving veteran forward Joe Ingles his first start of the season, even though this was a “must-win game.” As the players looked around at each other, he told them why a guy who had appeared in only 18 of the team’s previous 71 games, five of which lasted 3 seconds or less, was suddenly starting for a team that was flailing. He told them that Ingles’ wife and three children were in town visiting this week and that one of life’s little miracles had occurred for them at a game against the Utah Jazz on Sunday.

He told them how Ingles’ 8-year-old son, Jacob, has autism, and how he had never been able to sit through the sensory overload of an NBA game from start to finish. He told them that on Sunday, for the first time ever, Jacob was able to watch the entire game, an incredible breakthrough for him and the family that has fought so hard for him since he was diagnosed at 2 1/2 years old.

There was only one bummer: Ingles did not play in that game. Friday marked the last day the family would be together before mom and the kids headed back to their full-time home in Orlando, where Jacob has a school that he loves and a house that provides him much-needed comfort.

When Finch got word of Jacob’s milestone, he became determined to make sure that the boy got to see his dad on the court this time. Not only did

Finch plan to play Ingles, he was going to start him.  “I figured, if we’re going to do it, let’s do it in style,” Finch said.

The entire team started clapping and cheering, a response so emphatic that the cement block walls that separate the locker room from the arena hallway couldn’t contain the noise. All of a sudden, a team that had lost its swag, as Julius Randle put it after the loss on Wednesday dropped them to eighth in the West, was reinvigorated.

“I would want coach to do the same for me if I was in that position,” forward Jaden McDaniels said.

What followed was a 134-93 victory over the Pels. Randle had 20 points, six rebounds and five assists, Rudy Gobert had 15 points, 11 rebounds and three steals and Anthony Edwards scored 17 points. The most important person on the court that night went scoreless in six minutes, missing all three of his shots, committing two fouls and turning it over once. The most important person in the building, a young boy who was non-verbal early on in his diagnosis but is now in school and growing and developing and blossoming, was able to watch an entire NBA game for the second time in a row. The only difference this time was Jacob got to see his dad play.

“This is the stuff,” Ingles said, “I’ll remember forever.”

This was a major moment for the Ingles family, a line of demarcation in a seemingly endless battle to help Jacob find his way in a world that can leave behind kids like him. It was also a jolt to a team that seemed to be hitting a wall, to a group of players that were maybe feeling a little sorry for themselves when even an eight-game winning streak earlier this month couldn’t put a dent in the narrow lead the Warriors had on them in the playoff race.

“Sometimes you gotta do the human thing,” Finch said. “We always talk about how all these minutes matter, and (Ingles’) minutes mattered for another reason.”


Ten days ago, the Timberwolves were flying high after a 20-point thumping of the Nuggets in Denver. They returned to Minnesota for a five-game homestand filled with struggling teams, giving them realistic hopes that a season full of frustration and inconsistency was congealing at just the right time. They beat the Magic and the Jazz to run their winning streak to eight and were carrying themselves like a team that wasn’t afraid of anyone in the West. Then came an overtime loss on Monday to the Pacers, who played without Tyrese Haliburton, Myles Turner and Pascal Siakam. They followed that on Wednesday with a loss to the Pelicans, who were beaten by 46 points in their previous game and had the second-worst record in the West.

“The energy is off. It’s funky. We’re not playing with that same spirit or the same confidence,” Randle said after that game.

Finch searched for answers to restore the team’s edge. On Thursday, he spoke of how the team has proved to be “moody” this season, soaring when the shots are falling and the wins are coming and sulking when things aren’t going their way.

“We’ve got to be able to survive our own mistakes a little bit better,” Finch said. “Sometimes guys have the propensity to worry a little bit too much about themselves and how things affect themselves rather than the greater good.”

He emphasized to the group that there was little anyone could do to change their individual statistics this late in the season. The sample size is too large for any of them to see their per-game averages rise or fall in a noticeable way. The only thing they can do to affect their seasons in a positive way is to come together and win some games.

Little did he know that less than 24 hours after having that talk with the team during a film session at practice, he would get word of something that could help him illustrate in ways both powerful and relatable what an approach like that looked like.


Ingles’ wife, Renae, and all three children have spent the entire season at the family’s full-time home in Orlando. The end of Ingles’ career is much closer than the start, so when he signed a one-year, veteran minimum deal with the Timberwolves last summer, they decided the family would not follow him to Minnesota. Taking Jacob out of his comfort zone for nine months did not seem practical or productive.

Joe being gone has put even more of the burden on Renae’s shoulders.

“There’s a little less stress because I can afford to pay for Jacob to get what he needs, but it doesn’t take away the meltdowns in the supermarket,” Joe said. “There’s been so many times that my wife is laying on the floor in public and you can feel people staring at you, you know they’re judging you and commenting about it. But they have no idea what he’s gone through that day or the night before or the situation.”

The school they found in Orlando has been an immense help to Jacob’s development. The progress manifested in a tangible way for this basketball family on Sunday against the Jazz. Typically, Jacob will not last long amid the onslaught of thumping music, strobing lights and mascots running amok. They tried to take him to a Minnesota Wild hockey game earlier this season.

“He lasted three minutes,” Ingles said.

Then came Sunday, when Renae and the kids watched the entire first half without issue. At halftime, they retreated to a family room where the children of players hang out, play video games and pass the time if they do not want to sit still in an arena seat for two straight hours. When they got to the room, Jacob had a request for his mother, Renae told The Athletic.

“Have the timer on and watch the clock so that I don’t miss a second of the action,” he said.

Renae almost did a doubletake. She asked Jacob if he wanted to stay and play PlayStation instead.

“Why?” he said. “I can play the PlayStation at home. I’m here to watch my dad.”

They all returned to their seats and watched the entire second half. Joe kept looking up at his family, expecting the seats to be empty each time. Each time, the three of them were right there, having a blast. The pride overflowed from the thick-skinned Aussie, offering a moment of clarity for how far his son had come.

“There’s a lot to it that people don’t see behind the scenes,” Joe said. “Shoot, with the NBA and the money, (people think) those problems go away, and they don’t. It’s a reality for us every day, and Jacob is doing great now, but there’s still a lot of challenges that we go through.”

Renae has a robust Instagram presence, and she dedicates much of it to advocating for inclusion and educating about life with autism. She said she rarely posts about basketball on her feed, but she could not contain her excitement after the game against the Jazz.

“As a dad, just really proud that he’s worked so hard every day with school, therapy, speech, everything that he has to do to fit in in a not very friendly world a lot of the time,” Joe said, “and fit in to work has hard as he has and now get the benefits of now being able to be with his brother, sister and mom, sit there and watch his dad.”


On Friday morning, while Finch was still looking for ways to snap the team out of the mini-funk it was in, he was made aware that Jacob was going to be back in the arena one more time before they headed back home. It was suggested to him that if the Wolves got a comfortable lead in the game that night, getting Ingles into the game would be a cool moment.

His wheels started turning. He called Ingles into his office.

“Initially, I probably thought I was going to be in trouble for something, so I was trying to think of what I’d done over the last 48 hours,” Ingles said.

Finch talked with Ingles about Jacob, about the eternal ups and downs of autism, about the hope that Sunday provided them, but also the acknowledgment that there was no certainty with how Friday would go. Maybe Jacob would build on that experience and ride another game out the whole way. Or maybe it would be another tough night and Jacob would ask mom to go home three minutes into the game.

Finch soaked it all in and then told Ingles of his plan. He did not want to wait for garbage time to get Ingles some minutes. The Wolves had been playing poorly so there was no guarantee those minutes would come anyway. The coach told Ingles he wanted him to start, just to make sure that Jacob, Milla and Jack all got to see him play.

“Are you sure?” Ingles said.

Ingles knew this was no small gesture from Finch. The Wolves had lost two straight games and were 1 1/2 games behind the Warriors for the coveted No. 6 seed, which would take them out of the Play-In Tournament. These games are too important, and the Wolves had some mojo to rediscover. Ingles did not want to mess with that pursuit.

Ingles had played a grand total of 3 seconds in the previous 10 games and had not played more than 5:13 in the last 14 games. And Finch wanted to start him?

“It’s the reality of our business. People get fired every day,” Ingles said. “You see coaches on three-, four-year deals, players getting traded. It’s a brutal business. The fact that it even crossed his mind shows a lot.”

Finch insisted. He spoke to guard Mike Conley about giving Ingles his starting spot for the night. Conley has always been the most selfless of the Timberwolves players, so it came as no surprise to Finch that his point guard was thrilled with his idea. Conley also played with Ingles in Utah and was intimately aware of the family’s struggles, so there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation.

That the Pelicans were playing without star Zion Williamson, who overwhelmed the Wolves in their game on Wednesday night, was of little solace. The Timberwolves have followed a maddening pattern of playing their worst basketball against teams that were missing their best players.

This was no time for sentiment.

Or was it?

What if a gesture like this was exactly what the team needed? What if a squad that looked a little bit tired, a lot frustrated and, more than anything, completely confused about how things had fallen off so quickly had to touch some grass? What if the best way to get some worn-down players to stop hanging their heads was for their coach to put his neck on the line for a teammate? What if he was trying to show them that he saw them not as just X’s and O’s on a whiteboard, but as human beings with families, and that sometimes there are things far more important than basketball?

Finch did not just start Ingles for ceremony and pull him at the first whistle. He called the first play for Ingles, getting him a clean look at a runner down the lane that rimmed out. Ingles played the first six minutes of the first quarter, but like life with Jacob, this was no fairy tale. Truth be told, Ingles didn’t play very well, but Finch did not pull the plug early, even as they fell behind early.

Once Ingles left, with the Timberwolves ahead 13-12, he did not return to the game. Conley started the second half, and the Wolves pulled away.

“Guys were behind it, and I think it gave us just the right boost that we needed and change of energy,” Finch said. “So it’s not often that you get to do those types of things. But we’re really happy that we could.”

“I’ve watched him build his amazing family and I watched him go through everything they went through, the family,” said Gobert, who played seven seasons with Ingles in Utah. “I was excited and I was excited obviously for his family and to play with Joe, because I think he’s a really, really good player.”


Nights like this are not just big for the Timberwolves or the Ingles family. Finch’s magnanimous decision quickly spread across social media, the kind of organic, flash-bulb moment that can generate even more support for children like Jacob.

Joe and Renae have become tireless advocates for autism awareness. They helped organize Autism Awareness/Acceptance nights when Ingles played for the Jazz and Milwaukee Bucks and are board members for KultureCity, a non-profit that specializes in sensory accessibility and inclusion.

Renae knows that the coverage this moment receives will make hearts swell across the country. But she also wants it to serve as a reminder of how difficult life can be for families like theirs, especially those who do not have the financial resources of an NBA player.

“This truly took years and years of work and practice and getting it wrong and not having it work and trying things and failing at things and so much sacrifice to get to this point,” she said. “So it feels nice this week that Joe and I can feel like we are making the right choices for Jacob and his needs. But it’s not all rainbows. … We still have those days and moments.”

Renae’s voice quivered and tears welled in her eyes as she thanked Finch and the Timberwolves for everything they gave her family on Friday night.

“Tonight was truly bigger than basketball for us and our family,” she said on her Instagram story.

Finch wanted it to be bigger than basketball for the other 14 players on the roster as well. They had been in their feelings over the last four days and needed to snap out of it. A 41-point romp over one of the worst teams in the league doesn’t mean another winning streak is about to commence. It shouldn’t put the Warriors on notice that they are re-engaging in the race. But it did allow for them to step outside of themselves, look at a 37-year-old father and an 8-year-old son and take a moment to understand how good they’ve got it.

Long after the game was over, after media swarmed him at his locker for the first time all season and after he received all the well wishes from teammates, security guards and team personnel, Ingles walked to his car and made the short drive from the arena to his downtown apartment. When he opened the door, his three children were all there to greet him.

All they wanted to do was talk about the game.

WWW.NYTIMES.COM

"Sometimes you gotta do the human thing," Timberwolves coach Chris Finch said about the decision in a "must-win...

 

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