Two 'Nova hoops managers breaking down barriers that can isolate the disabled

It was the last practice for the Villanova University men's basketball team before this week's Big East tournament, and sophomore Frank Kineavy was courtside, observing drills, chatting with players and assistant coach Jason Donnelly, who called him "The Man."

When Kineavy teased Donnelly about moving to his native Jersey Shore - spelled out on a laptop board that he uses to communicate - the infectiously upbeat student manager for the Wildcats started laughing so hard that he rocked in his wheelchair and nearly knocked the board across the floor.

You might think Kineavy's success with the high-flying college hoopsters was a one-of-a-kind story, unless you had seen Villanova freshman Nick Gaynor working the floor at a women's squad practice a couple of days earlier - high-fiving the team's stars as they looped past his wheelchair, and drawing the mock ire of his frequent foil, coach Harry Perretta.

"If they have a bad day or good day," said Gaynor, also a student manager, "they can always count on me to put a smile on their faces."

There are many things that Kineavy, 20, and Gaynor, 19, have in common besides cerebral palsy. But none seems more remarkable than their love of people and an enthusiasm that inspires some highly recruited athletes at an American basketball mecca.

"He's more popular than us on campus," laughs Corey Stokes, the Wildcats star senior shooting guard. "Everybody knows who Frankie is. . . . What's beautiful about Frankie is, even though he has physical disabilities, he doesn't complain or use it as an excuse. He uses his abilities to help us get better."

The disorder that the two underclassmen share - Kineavy is unable to speak, write, or walk, while Gaynor has limited motor skills - is central to their Villanova odyssey. But their successes and struggles are much bigger than that. The journey has taken two young men who've felt the sting of being what Gaynor calls "invisible" and brought them smack into the center of the campus.

"He doesn't see Corey as someone to adore; he's just another guy," marvels the students' adviser, Greg Hannah.

Kineavy's father, Sea Girt, N.J., restaurant owner Frank Kineavy Sr., also speaks with awe of watching his son do well at the things that any parent would wish for his child – going off to college and finding his niche in life.

"It's almost beyond our wildest hopes," he said. "To send a child who can't walk and talk to live away from home. . . . We knew he could handle the academics. Our concern was socially."

Both Kineavy and Gaynor are breaking down the barriers that can isolate people with disabilities.

"There have probably never been two guys on campus with such dynamic personalities," said Hannah. "It's how Frankie and Nick are built. . . . [They] want to do the best with the situation they've been given."

Gaynor's season as manager ended Saturday when the University of Louisville knocked the women out of the tournament, while Kineavy enters March Madness on Tuesday night when the Wildcats tip off against the University of South Florida. Though he rarely goes to away games, Kineavy will be courtside at Madison Square Garden.

The looming last buzzer for the Wildcats is a blip in the pair's bigger saga. Besides their coveted positions with the team, the two are subjects of an acclaimed student documentary and a widely seen feature on ESPN. Both made the dean's list last semester.

It took a series of fortunate events to bring Kineavy and Gaynor to the same hallowed Big Five basketball floor.

The severity of Kineavy's spastic cerebral palsy did not limit his activities growing up. "He's always been kind of a star," his father said.

While he couldn't play competitive sports, he knew more than enough to critique the players, and at Manasquan High School he became team manager not just of the basketball team, but of football and baseball as well.

At Villanova's summer basketball camp, Kineavy caught the attention of men's head coach Jay Wright, who suggested the school could be a great place for his special skills and passions.

"He takes notes for me," said Wright, who rarely shares Kineavy's occasionally sharp criticisms directly with the players. "He evaluates the game."

Wright says that what Kineavy has done to overcome his disability can inspire his players. But at the same time, he's also careful to treat the sophomore like his other managers. He doesn't get to be on the court during practices until he's a junior.

Gaynor's ties with the women's team were forged years ago when his father, Villanova admissions director Michael Gaynor, started taking him to games. During his high school years at Great Valley, his disabilities made everyday life a struggle.

"I had a lot of friends, but since I couldn't go out and enjoy myself . . . I had to find something else to occupy my time," Gaynor said.

Still in high school, he began working with the women's team and found a comfort zone.

"I like the girls - they're cuter than guys," Gaynor said. "I've been around them for a long time. They're like sisters to me."

But his most positive impact may well be on the normally high-strung Perretta.

"He's upbeat, which I'm not every day. He's positive, which I'm not," the coach said. "That's even more important than getting towels."

"He always has a smile on his face, cracking jokes," said Devon Cane, the women's sophomore point guard from Springfield. "One time, he came into the locker room and Harry was yelling at us. He started laughing - then Harry started laughing. He calms him down."

While Gaynor lives at home and commutes with his father, Kineavy lives in a dorm with the help of 24-hour nurses. His day begins when Hannah stops by at 7 to wake him. Then Hannah makes sure he gets what he needs throughout the day, from books on tapes to extra time for tests.

But Hannah's broader goal for the two students has been more complicated: to fully integrate them in campus life. They got a boost when students in Villanova's Social Justice Documentary class completed work on a short film about the duo called "Coming Off the DL" ("disabled list").

"We can't make people want to be friends with them, but we can make people aware that they have a desire to have relationships - that's the theme of the movie," said Stephen McWilliams, director of disability services and producer of the film, which has been in seven film festivals. "It's not just access to buildings, but access to hearts."

Even now, that's not always easy. "One of the things that absolutely bugs the heck out of me," Gaynor said, "is people who don't know me might shy away from me - 'Oh, he's in a wheelchair and doesn't have anything to say.' " But if that happens, it's a lot less than it used to.

"The movie has done wonders for me," said Kineavy.

His father is quick to agree. "He's a very lucky kid - I think that's a strong statement when you see a kid who can't walk or talk. He's had a great life."

And there's a lot ahead for Gaynor and Kineavy, even after the season ends. Hannah is working on summer internships with local sports teams, and Kineavy will return to his job with Sea Girt's summer rec program. An '80s music fan, he also has a coming guest spot on Danny Bonaduce's radio show.

Then there's the play he's writing. What's it about?

"Cover the opening to find out," he wrote on his board, and laughed.