University of Tennessee Athletics
No Task Too Tough
April 24, 2002 | Men's Basketball
April 24, 2002
By Elizabeth A. Davis
Associated Press sportswriter
KNOXVILLE -- As the Tennessee Vols warmed up on the court before a game during the basketball season, head manager Brandon McCormack stands along the sideline with a clipboard propped between his right hip and elbow.
Sometimes he can sense when people in the audience notice that the right sleeve of his suit is momentarily limp when he takes the clipboard away. Then he quickly tucks his elbow at his hip, a habitual pose.
McCormack, once a standout high school athlete at Bearden who now oversees the Vols' 10 other student managers, doesn't mind people looking.
Born without a right hand and an arm that didn't grow much below his elbow, McCormack isn't trying to hide what's not there.
"People will notice it, and I'll notice them kind of staring at it. But they don't really say too much about it. I think people are more nervous, it doesn't bother me at all," McCormack said.
Doctors believe the umbilical cord got wrapped around his arm in the womb and stunted its growth, he said.
His parents, though, never treated him differently. He decided on his own to start playing sports as a 6-year-old.
"Not having the right hand, he was so determined to prove to you that he could do it," his mother, Karen, said. "I wonder sometimes if he would have been as determined to excel had he had two hands."
McCormack first played soccer and then baseball. Like major leaguer Jim Abbott, who was born without a right hand, McCormack pitched. Abbott's poster hung over his bed.
In middle school, he first played basketball, and later he played football as a guard, center and defensive end.
After a good career at Bearden High, he was recruited by some small colleges like Austin Peay and Emory, but a neck injury ended his football playing days. A UT fan all his life, he chose to attend Tennessee and major in sports management.
"It is kind of crazy because a lot of people didn't think I could do a lot of things, but now I've done a little bit of everything," he said.
His high school basketball coach suggested he try out for manager once at Tennessee. McCormack, now a junior, was interviewed and hired as a freshman and was promoted to head manager last year.
He is in charge of the team's equipment, road gear, and uniforms and helps run practice. During games, he tracks whatever statistics the coaches ask. He helps with drills in the offseason.
"He takes a lot of pride in it. He's really organized," Tennessee assistant coach Chris Ferguson said. "He's almost as important as the head coach."
When Buzz Peterson became coach last spring, he had heard about McCormack and his birth defect before meeting him.
"He's amazing," Peterson said. "You can tease him about it, and it doesn't bother him. He just has a great sense of humor. His personality is unbelievable."
When McCormack plays basketball with the other managers, his shorter limb is more obvious.
To shoot, he props the ball on the nub of his arm and flicks his left hand forward - like most players do - as he releases it.
He played center and forward at Bearden and would use the nub to poke opponents as he was defending the post.
"Some people, it really bothered," he said, smiling. "Some people it was a normal reaction, and they'd try to do something back."
Karen McCormack always braced herself for the day her son would come home dejected because of his arm. That never happened.
He was cut from freshman basketball tryouts, but only because the coach didn't think students should play more than one sport. So McCormack joined three recreation leagues.
"He handled it so well, the kids never did think of him as being so much different," Karen McCormack said.
Menial tasks like tying a shoe and hammering a nail took a while to master.
"I'm not one who wants special attention. I'll take your help, but I'd rather figure it out myself," McCormack said.
But by now, a second hand would get in his way.
He tried several prosthetic limbs and hands, but he never liked them.
His parents got him a heavy-duty prosthesis to help him tackle in football, but "it fell off on the field a couple of times," Karen McCormack said, laughing.
A $40,000 electronic hand that is supposed to be triggered by electrodes in the brain lies under his bed at home, scaring his mother sometimes when she cleans.
Apparently, he also doesn't need much help on the golf course, either. He swings the club with one arm.
"I can't swing it that good with two arms," Ferguson said. "He's going to have his bad shots like everyone, but it's amazing how he hits that golf ball."
