Three-sport high school athlete Riley Quinn is much more than a one-armed wonder

MOUNTAIN VIEW, Calif. — A spirited debate brewed along the Saint Francis (Mountain View) sideline on whether to go for it on fourth down or attempt a potential go-ahead 39-yard field goal.

The Lancers trailed visiting Riordan 23-22 last month and a little more than two minutes remained.

"Stop! Stop!" chimed in senior two-year starter Trill Hebert. "Riley can make it. Let's just put it on Riley's foot."

The coaching staff turned to senior starting safety and part-time kicker Riley Quinn, who was sort of minding his own business. He glanced back assuredly with a look that said "as if."

"I'll make it," he said.

Of course he would. The three-sport athlete and straight-A scholar has been figuratively splitting the uprights of his young, accomplished life ever since he had that little speed bump to overcome at birth.

He was born without a left forearm and hand due to an amniotic band breaking early during his mom Cheryl's pregnancy. It wrapped around his left arm and neither the family nor doctors knew about it until he came out.

The Quinns had two older children, but a third had died three years before Quinn's birth at the age of 2.

"So long as Riley was breathing we could handle anything," Cheryl said.

But could the world handle the competitive spitfire that was Riley Quinn?

The Quinns threw him into the athletic world along with his football-blocking brother Kyle and softball-flinging sister Allison, and Quinn soared without hesitation or inhibition.

It helped that his parents had good genes — his father Chris ran track in college and Cheryl was a four-sport athlete in high school — but Quinn's passion came from within.

"Riley always had that inner drive and fire," Chris said. "He's wired a little different than the rest of the family. He's definitely got some piss and vinegar.

"Honestly, if he had both hands, he might just be a typical good athlete. Not having that hand just made him work that much harder and made his passion burn that much deeper."

Sports fed that passion — and he played all of them: kickball, football, basketball, baseball, soccer, tennis and golf. The two-handed world obviously had an advantage, but soaking in such a notion would only prove poisonous. He combated it with his natural furor, love for competition and unyielding work ethic.

"The idea that I am handicapped has never entered my mind," Quinn wrote on his college essay. "Instead I use what others may call a physical disability as my driving force and motivation to excel at everything I do."

Ultimate compliment


Excelling at Saint Francis isn't easy. Academically, Quinn's 4.35 GPA isn't close to valedictorian material, and athletically, the Lancers play out of the West Catholic Athletic League, considered the top athletic league in Northern California.

Saint Francis alums include numerous professional athletes, such as current major leaguers Daniel Nava and Daniel Descalso, and NFL players Rhett Elllison and Will Ta'ufo'ou.

Quinn isn't pro sports material, but he is an energy guy and defensive stopper on the basketball team and a relief pitcher for a perennial national baseball power.

The gridiron, however, is where Quinn truly shines. The 6-foot, 180-pound senior has racked up 112 career tackles in two seasons as a hard-hitting, ball-hawking safety. He's also intercepted four passes and returned one for a touchdown.

The Lancers (6-4) are the top seed in the Central Coast Section Division II playoffs and host Mt. Pleasant (San Jose, Calif.) (9-1) on Friday night.

"Wrapping up is sort of hard to do with one hand," Quinn said. "And catching the ball is challenging if it's not a good spiral."

Outsiders watch Quinn's on-field field exploits both quizzically and with amazement. Teammates have just come to expect it, which may be the ultimate compliment.

"We don't think of him or see him as anything but a normal guy," said senior linebacker Steven Dinneen. "He's just so inspiring by himself. The fact he doesn't have that arm doesn't effect him. It's not who he is. He doesn't allow it to define him."

Said Saint Francis head coach Greg Calcagno: "He's just a very good football player and leader. He's a kid who could have an excuse of why he doesn't succeed, but he's never used it. He's a 4.35 student, he gets it done in the classroom, and he's a captain, a leader. … He's just one hell of a player and young man."

Getting it done Despite seeing Quinn as a peer, there are times teammates and coaches take a step back and imagine what it would be like to play with one arm tied behind their back.

"Every once in a while he'll make a play on the field and I'll say, ‘I have no idea how he did it,'" Calcagno said.

Said Dinneen: "I mean, let's face it. He's a great athlete. I've seen him do things on the basketball court and I'll say, ‘Did he really just do that?' He does stuff out here that's spectacular. The fact that he makes these tackles without an arm is amazing. He's really something special."

It's not just those wearing Saint Francis brown and gold saying so, either. Last season, Serra coach Patrick Walsh watched Quinn seal Saint Francis' victory over the Padres with an interception.

Walsh said watching Quinn make a one-hand grab was secondary to all his other contributions on the field.

"He's the type of kid you'd like to work for someday," Walsh said. "I'm an outsider, but you can just see and feel his heart and passion and energy and character. That kid is a true leader."

Humble and altruistic too, says Saint Francis baseball and football team manager Beca Perez.

"He always asks how my day is going," she said. "He always asks about me, which is nice from a person like him." 

Dinneen said he knew Quinn was a leader the moment he met him in ninth grade.

"He's just a great guy," he said. "He's one of the nicest guys around campus and everyone loves him. He never lets anything get in his way. If there's something to do or accomplish, he's going to get it done."

Like tying his shoe or playing catch.

Rhythmic thud Though Quinn seeks no empathy, he admits living with one hand has never been easy.

Instead of playing video games as a youth or "staring blankly at cartoons," he would spend hours trying to master basic athletic endeavors.

"I can still hear the rhythmic thud of a baseball slamming against the garage wall as I transition the glove from my left armpit to my right hand while the ball is airborne," Quinn wrote in his essay. "Even more vivid is the frequency in which I would have to bend over to fetch my glove after I botched this rapid transfer.

"I truly believe my constant, and sometimes frustrating struggle to develop basic skills is what molds my character."

He held on to something his grandfather told him — "There is more than one way to skin a cat," — to develop functions most take for granted. Like tying his shoes.

Quinn utilizes the bones in his left elbow to station the lace while his right hand ties the knot. Try tying a knot with one hand.

"It's really a process of trial and error," Quinn said.

Which is all tied in to Quinn's relentless pursuit to reach his potential.

"When he gets home after a very long day, he goes right to his room to finish his homework," Chris said. "My wife and I have pretty good work ethic. But he blows us away."

Quinn isn't all work and no play. In fact, his sense of humor has helped greatly with his plight.

Friends nicknamed his half-arm "Marty" and Quinn has run with it. He recalls once-awkward but now-humorous moments involving "Marty," like a sixth-grade championship basketball game when he was called for double-dribble.

"How in the world is that possible?" he told the referee. "I remember being teed off. I was so mad I didn't know what to say."

He was speechless two years ago at Serra when a basketball referee called Quinn for a two-hand push foul. Quinn tapped the ref on the shoulder, didn't say a word, but eye-balled "Marty" as if to say "Again, not possible."

The referee didn't change the call.

Stub bump And the Saint Francis coaches didn't change their minds against Riordan, when they sent Quinn out to attempt the field goal.

Even though he was exhausted (he made 10 tackles in the game) and hadn't warmed up, Quinn found a way — like he always does. He got it done.

He drilled the 39-yard field goal, the Lancers prevailed, 25-23, and for the first time after any game, Quinn said he was moved to tears.

Not because he helped win the game, or that for once everyone was focused on another body part other than "Marty" — his foot. But because three days earlier, he had been offered a full-ride scholarship to play football at the University of San Diego. He's seriously considering Ivy League schools which have also reached out to him but can't offer athletic scholarships.

The thought of a university reaching out for his services was just too sweet to keep in.

"It was just a really good week and it all hit at once," Quinn said. "It was sort of a validation that all my hard work had paid off and, frankly, that I was good enough to play at the next level."

Assistant Saint Francis coach and former NFL lineman Dwaine Board knows plenty about the next level and thinks Quinn can play there. He helped train Quinn in the weight room during the offseason. He's known the Quinn family for years.

"He attacks workouts like everything else — 100 percent," Board said. "Seems like he never gets tired. Never seems gassed. He wears a prosthetic when he lifts and he's really strong, especially his lower body.

"I've seen the next level a lot in my lifetime and I think he can play there. When he's not in a football environment he's real quiet and laid back. But when he steps on the field he's got a fire in him. He wants to compete and he wants to be the best. That's what it takes to play this game."

Quinn received more unexpected affirmation from a much smaller source 30 minutes after his game-winning kick. It was even more powerful.

Showered and relaxed, he went back to the field to socialize, only to find an 8-year-old girl named Emma waiting to talk to him. He had never met her before.

Like Quinn, Emma had a right arm and a matching "Marty."

She bombarded Quinn with questions and he answered every last one. His final one basically echoed a message that Jim Abbott, the famed one-armed Major League pitcher, passed on to Quinn during a chance meeting.

"Believe in yourself, find your own way, and use the talents you've been given," he said. "Great things can happen."

With that the two toasted "Martys" with a stub bump.

"When I was younger, when I was told I inspired people, I'd kind of fight it," Quinn said. "I didn't want to just inspire but I wanted to prove that I could hang with all the kids out there.

"Now I embrace it all. Moments like meeting Emma put it all in perspective. If I can help someone out there, I'm glad to do it."