For a guy who has been in a wheelchair for 23 years, Steve Winter could make jokes about his handicap being something other than a number. The easygoing Mesa, Ariz., resident is loose enough to have that sort of self-deprecating humor. However, the 40-year-old Winter takes his golf seriously, which is why he's more like a solid 20-handicap. That's right, even though he is restricted to just one arm and one hand and can't shift his weight during his swing, the self-admitted hacker often posts scores in the 80s that many of us would envy. So, how does Winter do it? With a lot of grit and guts, and a little help from his best friend, Ron Butler, a long-drive specialist and custom club fitter who also lives in Mesa.

"We met on a driving range this spring, and I really didn't know how to approach Steve," is the way Butler remembers his initial meeting with Winter, who was flailing away from his wheelchair at the time.

"I'm bombing away as I always do, and he's kind of watching me out of the corner of his eye," says Butler. "Finally, he got up the nerve and said `Can you help me with my clubs?' I said, `I thought you'd never ask.'"

The 55-year-old Butler is an unusual guy, to say the least. Big and burly, he once played football before he broke his neck; an injury that left him paralyzed for seven weeks and knocked him out of the sport.

"It's why I can empathize with what Steve has gone through," Butler says.

More Than Meets the Eye

Winter says he liked Butler at once.

"Before, everybody had treated me like I was a token wheelchair golfer," says Winter, who gets into the upright position through a hydraulic system in his chair. "It didn't matter who coached me or what I did, every swing was `Great shot!'

"Granted, people are always going to be curious about a wheelchair golfer, and I don't mind that. But Ron treated me different-like I was an athlete again, and that made all the difference. He actually got into my chair and tried to feel and swing like I did. The reality is, he's been a Godsend."

For starters, Butler had Winter switch to a special 4-inch-high tee he had designed, which added about 50-75 yards to his drives. Butler also developed a wraparound glove for Winter made from a regular golf glove and Ace Bandages. Then he grooved Winter's club grips to fit his fingers.

"After about 30 shots, my hand would get really tired," says Winter. "But with Ron's new glove, it allowed me to have a looser grip so I could hold the club in my hand like regular golfers do."

Butler wasn't finished. Because Winter has limited movement, he needed a more accessible way to reach his bag of clubs. No problem, says Butler.

"Me and Home Depot," Butler says of his clamp-like system he devised to allow Winter to rack the clubs at the base of his wheelchair for easy access.

The results have been amazing, which just goes to show what happens when someone really cares. Over the past four months, Winter has lowered his handicap significantly. In addition, through a joint effort with Butler, he has formed the No Limits Foundation to help others with disabilities play the game.

"For some time there have been wheelchair- basketball leagues and tennis leagues, but not that much for golfers with disabilities," Winter says. "Access is part of the problem, as golf courses are sometimes uneasy about allowing wheelchairs on the course.

"But mostly, it's just a socializing thing, and Ron and I hope what we're doing is revolutionary and that eventually it will change how people view golfers with disabilities. We're still in the infant stages and need help, like sponsors. But if we keep plugging away, it will eventually provide more opportunities for people with disabilities to play the game."

At the moment Winter says his biggest obstacles are an occasional course owner wondering if Winter's wheelchair will do damage to the greens, and how he gets in and out of a bunker.

"Once [golf-course personnel] realize that my tires are wide and soft and I don't leave marks on the greens, they're okay with [the chair]," says Winter. "I haven't quite figured out the bunkers yet, because the sand is so soft that the wheels will sink. Right now, I just try and stay out of them."

Changing Seasons

It's quite a dilemma, really, trying to bring attention to a cause without creating a scene. But Winter, who was injured in an accidental shooting on his 17th birthday, is no stranger to adversity.

"When my life changed way back when, I was playing high-school football, basketball, and baseball and was a pretty good athlete," Winter says of his teenage years in Akron, Ohio. "Then I had the spinal-cord injury and everything changed."

"I remember we were in the middle of basketball season, and every day I kept wishing I could heal myself and show everybody that I could play again. It was devastating, but slowly I recovered and got on with my life."

Winter took up golf two years ago but never got serious about it until this past year. Then came his fateful encounter with Butler, and Winter's life made yet another dramatic shift.

"These wheelchair guys who play the game, they're something else," Butler says. "I know that not long ago we were out at Apache Creek [golf course], and Steve and I were playing with another guy in a wheelchair, Mark Flores.

"Well, to make a long story short, this old guy comes up to me in the bathroom and says, `It's so nice you're playing with those poor guys in the wheelchairs.' I just looked at him and laughed and said,`Listen, those poor wheelchair dudes are hitting it 225 straight down the middle.' He says, `You're kidding!'"

Butler does a lot of that,which is why he and Winter get along so well. For instance, when someone asks what keeps Winter from swinging with two arms,Butler quickly responds,"He'd fall out of his chair."

Or, when Butler talks about the difference between his game and Winter's, he can't stop laughing.

"When I hit the ball, people go, `Ooh,'" Butler says of his 350-yard drives. "But when Steve hits the ball,they get religion."

But, whatever the forum, improving one's game can be like salve to an old wound, and golf is taking Winter to stature he never dreamed of.

Like one night when Winter's team won all the money at a weekly tournament. It all came down to a playoff, and it was Winter who hit his 7 iron 128 yards to within 7 feet of the cup for what turned out to be the winner.

"They're starting to call me a sandbagger," Winter says of his "C" status in scramble events. "I've got to be a little careful with that. But at the same time it sure made me feel good."

Contact: The No Limits Foundation, (877) 703-4659 / (480) 228-8321.

Bill Huffman is a former EAST VALLEY TRIBUNE (Ariz.) staff writer.

COPYRIGHT 2004, Paralyzed Veterans of America, by Permission of Sports 'n Spokes. www.sportsnspokes.com