‘We Kick Ass – The Movie’ debuted at a local 26-theatre Cineplex Saturday afternoon before thousands of screaming kids. Ticket lines of teenagers and adults meandered for as long as one mile. Originally scheduled to premiere on just one screen, theatre owners added six more screens for the 1 PM showing and by 7 PM all 26 screens were dedicated to this single film. The one-hour and 45 minute movie was identical to Glenda’s DVD and attracted teens from as far away as Green Bay and Chicago. The noise level was constant as screams erupted from theatres each time the Tina Turner’s ‘Simply the Best’ number was played. Outside, there was a constant chant of “we kick ass, we kick ass”.
Matthew gave me a private copy of the DVD, but Rosann and I wanted to see the movie and experience the atmosphere. A special parents and teachers show was scheduled in one theatre at 8 PM and was expanded to three theatres to accommodate demand. Rosann and I screamed like teenagers when Matthew played the saxophone, and we were not alone. The noise emanating from the adult theatres was almost as loud as the kid’s. We probably surpassed the kids when it came to the tears shed during the “she was first to believe” and the “tell your family you love them” segments. We applauded when Matthew admonished students that didn’t do their best at school and urged fellow students to become more involved in the community. By the end of the 1:40 minute movie we were exhausted.
“Can you imagine how it was to see this live?” Rosann exclaimed as the movie ended, forgetting for a moment that I was there. I just squeezed her hand.
“Wow, look at this crowd,” I said as we walked outside. “Where are they coming from?”
A security person overheard me and pointed out that kids were watching it over and over again. “They are buying five tickets at a time and just staying in their seats. We try to move them, but they won’t budge.”
Rosann did the math in her head. 26 theatres, 200 seats each, $10 per ticket, eight showings per day. “That’s $312,000 in ticket revenues per day,” Rosann exclaimed. “Where is the money going?”
“Matthew has set up a non-profit foundation and negotiated contracts where the foundation receives 60% of the ticket revenue, 50% of the concession revenue and 90% of the revenue from souvenirs. Not bad!” I smiled.
We noticed a concession stands selling “We Kick Ass” T-shirts for $15 and DVDs for $25. “Is this legal?” Rosann asked. “Don’t you need permits and licenses?”
“Yes, and that’s why Matthew retained the services of a local law firm. They had five attorneys working full time to make this legal. I understand that “we kick ass” is a registered trademark and the movie rights have been copyrighted. All the work has been pro-bono and the souvenir stands are staffed by volunteers.”
“I would expect that today’s profit will more than pay for the cost of materials,” Rosann added. “I’m amazed at the planning that must have gone into this. Did Matthew do all this?”
“He started putting this together a week ago when thinks looked pretty bleak. Now they’re planning to release the movie nationwide.”
“Phenomenal,” Rosann said quietly. “What are they going to do with the money?”
“Matthew has already started spending it. You don’t realize how many projects the senior class has going.”
I look back at that period in my life and know it was very special. It was a pleasure to go to work every day. The atmosphere was electric. Kids wanted to learn and as a result, teachers were enthusiastic again and wanted to teach. It started the Monday after the pep rally when Mrs. Reynolds, a history teacher just a year away from retirement, apologized to her class. “I know you talk about me behind my back and say that I haven’t updated my class plan in 30 years. It’s true, I haven’t, but from today on I’m going to change. When Matthew said that some of the teachers had stopped trying, I know he was talking about me. Tomorrow …”
“Mrs. Reynolds, it’s our fault, not yours,” a boy from the back of the room said. It was Freddie, her class clown, who always had a smart-alec reply when called upon. His long, scraggly hair was always dirty, but today his hair was cut shorter and combed. He looked so much better. “I realize it must be difficult to try and teach the likes of me year after year, but starting today I’m going to do better. If I don’t do well, it won’t be because I didn’t try.”
“You can count on me too, Mrs. Reynolds,” a boy in the front row volunteered. “Me too,” another said. “I’ll try harder,” a third said. It seemed that promises came from all parts of the room.
Tears welled up in Mrs. Reynolds’s eyes and she started to feel dizzy. Freddie saw what was happening and raced up to help her sit down. “Thank you, I’ll be better now.” Just then the assistant principal walked in and gave Freddie a suspicious look. “Are you okay?” he asked with concern.
“I’ve never been better,” Mrs. Reynolds replied. “Everything is going to be great. Freddie, get a morning newspaper and lead the class through today’s assignment while I go to the teachers lounge to tidy up. Tomorrow, everyone should be ready to discuss a new lesson plan based upon current events.”
Mrs. Reynolds worked long hours to rewrite her entire lesson plan to show the impact that history has on current events. The lesson plan was hers, but the students bought into it. Word spread quickly around school and teachers and students recognized the effort that Mrs. Reynolds was giving. It was also apparent in her walk and her attitude. It seemed like someone had miraculously painted a smile on her face and put a spring into her step.
She was not alone. Teachers throughout the school were excited at how interested the kids had become in learning. It was no longer possible for teachers to show up unprepared. The students were giving 100% and expected nothing less from the faculty.
If the school day could be compared to a gourmet dinner, basketball practice was like dessert or icing on the cake. The kids were a delight to coach. We were winning games now and everyone was contributing, but it was more than just being part of a winning team. The kids were part of something big and they knew it. They wanted to practice and they wanted to get better. Often I was forced to physically pull the boys off the court citing WIAA rules that limited the amount of practice time. Several times I caught players sneaking back into the gym after practice to run the suicide drills that Matthew had shown them after the first practice.
We set up a personal improvement program to work individually with boys on their weaknesses. The big guys worked on coordination drills and setting solid picks before rolling towards the basket. The pick-and-roll was a key part of our offense when opponents played man-to-man defense. The key is for the boy setting the screen to seal the defender with his butt before breaking to the basket. The defender guarding the person setting the pick has a choice to make, either stay with his original man or switch to the other man. Either way, one person would be open.
Andy and Kevin were small guards that were limited because they could only dribble well with their good hand, the right hand. Defenders overplayed their strong side and forced them to the left where they were a step too slow. The two boys spent fifteen minutes each practice going one-on-one against each other, dribbling only with their left hand. It took almost a month before they saw the improvement. One day Andy was dribbling to his right during a five-on-five scrimmage when he suddenly crossed over to his left hand and accelerated through the lane. Erin switched off his man to block the shot, but Andy used his body to shield Erin from the ball and put a soft, left handed lay-up, off the glass for two points. He had done it naturally without even thinking about it. “Way to go, Andy, nice left hand,” I shouted, and got a big smile in return as he trotted back on defense.
We worked hard in practice, but it was fun. Matthew made it fun. We tried to instill the habit of players sliding their feet from side-to-side on defense rather than crossing over, which made the defender susceptible to a change in direction. Two players tried to cover Matthew and ended up on the floor, colliding with each other as their feet got tangled. Four tenth grade girls had wandered into
the gym to watch practice. It gave Matthew an idea.
“It’s almost dancing,” Matthew explained. “Watch how easy it is. Nancy, Joan, Rita, Peggy; please come down here. I need your help.” Thirty seconds later there were four wide-eyed, shoeless girls on the gym floor looking at Matthew for instruction. “Okay, line up about three feet apart and pretend you are guarding me. When I go right, you go left, when I go back, you go forward. Okay?” I still wasn’t sure what Matthew was getting at.
Matthew started slowly, going first to his right and then back to his left. He then went back, stopped quickly and dribbled forward. The girls mirrored his every move. Three minutes later they repeated the drill to the beat of the music and the girls again kept pace. Their spacing and footwork were perfect and this time you could see the lesson that Matthew was trying to convey. The girls were dancing in a way. They were on their toes and sliding their feet, always in balance.
Matthew stopped and congratulated the girls. “Okay boys, it’s your turn. Four of you grab a ball and let’s see what you can do against these defensive wizards.” The other eight boys howled in laughter until it was their turn. After awhile, the laughter died down and the determination set in.
“Thanks, girls, take a break while the boys go one-on-one against each other. Fellows, when you’re on defense, concentrate on staying on your toes and keeping your balance.” I watched and saw some improvement.
“See what I’m talking about. We’re not there yet, but we’re going to get better. Girls, can we count on you to be here next week with eight more girls and maybe someone in a wheel chair for Coach?” The boys were still laughing as we headed to the locker room?
The demands on Matthew’s time were enormous, particularly as the popularity of the ‘We Kick Ass’ movement spread. He was constantly asked to speak at pep rallies at other schools. He accepted an invitation to speak at Milwaukee North, an inner city school that had a student population that was 70% black, 20% white, 10% Spanish and almost 100% poor. North had won a State Basketball Championship three years earlier and we were scheduled to play them Friday, the day after Matthew’s scheduled talk.
The students at Milwaukee North gave Matthew a standing ovation when he walked out to the podium to start the pep rally. Virtually all of them had seen the “We Kick Ass” movie. He held up his hand and waited for silence before starting his speech. “My name is Matthew Wilson, and I kick ass in three ways,” he started as he held up three fingers. The crowd roared with delight. “First, I kick ass on the bas…” He didn’t complete the sentence. Lights dimmed, and the music began with spotlights seeking out Jennifer. The noise level was deafening when spotlights zeroed in on Matthew when he played the saxophone. Jennifer embraced Matthew and left the stage to another standing ovation.
He held up two fingers when the applause died down. “My name is Matthew Wilson and I am a student at Shorewood High School and when I’m a student, I try my best.” The auditorium was quiet. “You cannot learn if you don’t go to class; skipping school is not acceptable. My challenge is this. Tomorrow our schools have a basketball game, but I expect 100% of my classmates to be at school, ready to learn. This is more important to me than the outcome of the game. I challenge the students at Milwaukee North to have perfect attendance tomorrow. Do you accept my challenge?”
There was total silence as students looked at each other. Matthew continued. “When I got to Shorewood some kids thought it was cool to skip school, not study and smart-off in class. We changed that culture. Now, students that occasionally do these things hear about it from their friends. For one day, tomorrow, I challenge you to break that culture. Many of you probably already know someone who plans to skip school tomorrow. If you are really their friend, convince them it’s not cool. Tell them Matthew Wilson doesn’t think the kids at North can have 100% attendance for one day. Prove me wrong.”
“There must be 50 kids not here today,” one teacher pointed out. “How do we get the word out to them in time?”
“Now we’re talking,” Matthew answered. “Let’s appoint a committee right now that is responsible for contacting these kids. How about all varsity football team members not on the basketball or wrestling teams – that’s your committee. Meet after school and start calling. Get the names and phone numbers from the office. If they don’t have a phone or if they aren’t receptive to the idea, pay them a visit.”
“And what if they won’t listen?” a boy shouted.
“You can only do your best, you can’t force someone to do something if they don’t care, but peer pressure is a great motivator. I’ll make you a deal. If you are down to one or two kids, let me know and I’ll talk to them. Okay? Do you accept the challenge?” There were murmurs of assent as the kids warmed to the challenge.
The next morning Matthew received a call at seven AM from the football coach at Milwaukee North. “My kids have done their best, but there is one kid that is refusing to cooperate. Are you still willing to help?”
“Where does he live?” Matthew asked. “I’ll talk to him.”
“I have to warn you; this kid is 6’4”, 250 pounds and is one mean boy. He lives with his mother in a rundown house on 4th street. Last night he threw two of my players out of the house.”
Thirty minutes later Matthew knocked on the door and introduced himself to the boy’s mother. “Mrs. Jones, I need to talk with Anton for a few minutes and convince him to go to school this morning.”
“Have at it, Anton won’t listen to me. I tried to tell him the kids were counting on him. Be careful though, he’s sleeping and he isn’t in too good a mood when he wakes up.”
Five minutes later Mrs. Jones heard a loud crash from the bedroom and knew that her son had done something to that nice boy. She was surprised when she opened the door and saw her son pinned against the wall with his feet dangling six inches off the floor. That skinny white boy had thrown him through the wallboard and Anton’s arms were pinned to his side between two studs. “There’s no need to worry, Mrs. Jones. Anton and I just had a little disagreement about what he was going to wear to school this morning.” Matthew dropped Anton at school and watched as 600 kids applauded as Anton walked up the steps.
Our team won the basketball game by 12 points, but both teams were winners. Milwaukee North had 100% attendance and edged out Shorewood which had one person counted as absent. Matthew didn’t get to school until 9:05 AM and missed the cut-off by five minutes. I always wondered why it took Matthew so long to get to school after he dropped off Anton.
Saturday morning Matthew and two dozen volunteers showed up with new wallboard, shingles, wood and paint to help Anton fix the hole in his bedroom wall, plus a few other items around the house that needed repair. Two parents, a carpenter and master plumber, supervised the work. A local roofing contractor volunteered his crew. The parents, contractor and all 24 kids were back Sunday afternoon to finish the repairs and sod the lawn. Significantly, there were twelve workers from each school. The kids had so much fun that they decided to do more projects together every month.
“Look at that,” a girl said as she admired the completed work. “It gives me goose pimples to think what we accomplished in two days.”
“Why couldn’t we do this a couple times a month?” a boy from North asked out loud. “We could get other schools involved and do jobs all over the city.”
“Why not organize a city-wide jobs program and target one weekend. We could get a lot done if every school had 100 volunteers. What do you think, Matthew? Is it possible?”
“It’s a great idea, but it won’t be easy. The kick ass fund has the money for the materials and supplies if you kids are willing to do the work. Are you up to it?”
A chorus of ‘yes’s’, and ‘we can do it’, was the response from all 25 kids, including Anton.”
“I’ll help you get organized, but you kids need to take charge. We’ll need a captain and co-captain from each school to coordinate volunteers and organize work grou
ps. There are 24 high schools in the county so we need to get everyone together.” This was the start of a county-wide rehab program that became so successful that school districts from across the nation used it as a blueprint.
Chapter 13 - Regular Season Ends