Beavercreek's `Big Al' proud of her size
Commentary
By Tom Archdeacon
DAYTON DAILY
NEWS
Sunday, February 6, 2000
BEAVERCREEK--Her team had been trounced by 44 points and Kandis
May had taken an even worse beating.
Early in the fourth quarter Saturday afternoon, the Springfield
South guard had turned quickly and run full force straight into a
smothering screen set by Alison Bales. Actually, May had a
face-to-belly introduction to the towering Beavercreek center and
the impact sent her crumpling backward like a Mike Tyson KO victim.
Then, two minutes later, May got the ball inside, turned, faked
and tried to shoot over Alison, who didn't just block the shot, but
grabbed it out of mid-air and held it above her head.
After the game--which Beavercreek won, 79-35--May had just one
thing to say: "I didn't know girls got that big!"
How big? Depends on when you put the measuring stick to her. The
14-year-old freshman already stands 6-foot-5 and is still growing.
From the baby born 21 inches long and weighing 10 pounds 11 ounces,
she's grown into a sturdy teen who wears men's size 16 basketball
shoes, has to special order pants with a 38-inch inseam and, when
she tells people she's just a freshman, they often ask, "Yeah, what
college?"
Beavercreek coach Ed Zink referred to her as his "gentle giant,"
but most of her teammates and a lot of the fans affectionately refer
to her simply as "Big Al."
While her grandmother doesn't especially like the nickname,
Alison said she doesn't mind at all: "I'm proud of my
size--especially when it comes to basketball. In school I might not
be the most popular girl there, but on the basketball court that all
changes. It's like a different world. I kind of have an advantage
and Big Al kind of fits."
After Saturday's game, no one would agree more than the
Springfield South team. Alison came off the bench late in the first
quarter and needed just 8 seconds to block the first of her six
shots. Playing less than half the game, she ended up with a
team-high 14 points.
Her finest moment came at the end of the first half, when she
swatted the shot of a South guard straight against the wall behind
the basket. The victimized guard quickly tried to inbound the ball,
only to have Alison snatch that pass out of the air, too.
In fact, on the day, Alison's only problem seemed to be keeping
the end of her specially made jersey tucked in her shorts. "Just
like her clothes," said her dad Charles Bales. "They make things for
tall girls and they make 'em for big girls ... but not for big, tall
girls. That's a problem for Alison."
The big and tall combo is worse for opponents. Earlier last week
Bales led Beavercreek's upset of once-beaten Chaminade-Julienne with
15 points and 6 rebounds. Even in a loss to Mason, she gave heralded
Michelle Munoz--daughter of Cincinnati Bengals Hall of Fame lineman
Anthony Munoz--fits, blocking a couple of shots and defending her
well.
Zink said Bales has been slowly--and steadily--adjusting to
varsity play: "She's learning to get more aggressive."
That's part of the problem of being young and big, said Dr. Mary
McCarthy, Alison's mom and trauma director at Miami Valley Hospital:
"People always assume big kids are older. They expect them to act
older, too. Alison's just 14--and, in some ways, a young 14."
She's innocently fascinated by the fuss that's made over her
basketball potential. As a fourth-grader, she was playing with the
fifth grade Dayton Lady HoopStars team. She was also a stalwart of
the Beavercreek Stars teams and in two seasons at Ankeney Junior
high, her seventh- and eighth-grade teams went a combined 34-0.
She's already gotten more than two dozen inquiries from colleges,
most of them, her parents say, letters asking her to tell the school
(like the schools don't already know) something about herself.
What the colleges will learn is that Alison is an articulate girl
with some real charm. She's a mix of brains--she got all A's last
grading period--and brawn. Her dad--6-foot-3 and 340 pounds--was an
offensive lineman for Texas Christian University and also a
basketball player of some note. Her 5-foot-11 mom--who kept her
maiden name--was Stanford educated.
Alison was their first of four children--one of their 10-year-old
twin sons is already 5-4, 188 pounds and in a size 11 shoe--and as
she grew, a pediatrician told them they could stunt her growth by
putting her on birth control pills. The extra estrogen would close
the growth plates. "Who wants their little girl on birth control
pills?" Mary said with a shrug.
Except for some early knee problems related to growth spurts,
Alison has had no health problems related to her size. "In
basketball they value you for your height, so this sport has been
great for her self-esteem," Charles said. "Back when I was a kid,
girls over 6-feet may have kind of slouched because they were
embarrassed about their height. Now there are more opportunities.
It's a different time. Alison's only problem is buying clothes."
She shook her head: "And getting rides in some cars. But at least
I always get to ride shot gun."
She talked of problems with some cramped airplane seats, shower
heads that were so short she had to practically do the limbo and
bathroom mirrors that left her looking at her neck, not her face.
Several years ago when the family moved here, Charles--who also
is an accomplished cabinet maker--redesigned their home. "He made
all the sinks and cabinets at least 6 inches taller for us," Mary
said. "Some of our friends come over and say they walk around our
house and feel like they're in the land of the giants."
Charles smiled at that. The refitting was done for Mary and him,
not so much the kids back then. "I had no idea it was going to be
like this," he said. "I mean, I never thought there'd come a day
when I wouldn't be able to look at my daughter, eye to eye."
Like that Springfield South guard, he didn't know "girls got that
big."