And the opposing team moves the ball down court, surprisingly leaving the defender with a beaming, ear-to-ear-grin.

Sure, the opponent succeeded. But Matthew put all his energy on the line for his team, and, to him, that's what really matters.

Matthew's dad sees it somewhat differently.

"This is where he has really learned to use his wheelchair," Dave Cummings, of LaGrange Park, said of the game his 9-year-old child loves.

Battling opponents, moving a wheelchair and dribbling a ball at the same time is no easy feat, though the Addison-based Jr. Bulls Wheelchair Basketball team isn't phased by the challenges.

"Kids can do just about anything," said parent Diana Glatchak, a member of the team's booster organization.

The game, when played in a wheelchair, calls for a heavy dose of upper-body strength, which equalizes players who may have limited mobility in their legs. Adaptation is a key factor here: players who can't shoot the ball with upraised arms toss the basketball underhand instead.

And necessity truly is the mother of invention with this highly determined crew.

Matthew has cerebral palsy, and because pushing his own chair is challenging, he's allowed some leeway: other players can nudge his chair from behind to get him closer to the game.

After the boy's thrilling foray into defensive play at a recent tournament, the referee, who was headed down court, grabbed a handle on Matthew's chair and wheeled him back into play. Nobody batted an eye.

In many ways, the team is about things common to all children, and all sports. Kids get a chance to "belong, feel needed, be active and successful," team coach Jodie Swift, of Naperville, said.

But it's also geared to teaching everyday skills, as well. Practices include lessons in maneuvering wheelchairs quickly and precisely, building upper-body strength, and working on memory retention, she said.

Pearl Gannon says the greatest challenge she's found so far is generally not visible to the audience.

"Mostly, the guys think because I'm a girl I can't play very well," the 16-year-old sophomore at Glenbard East High School said, in a matter-of-fact way.

Pearl, who has a neurological disorder, is one of the few players who have lower body mobility. Once the Lombard teenager hits the court, though, she's confined to a wheelchair and any indication that she's using her legs as a physical advantage is a technical foul.

The Addison team started back in 1991 when interest about the Chicago Bulls' adult wheelchair team spawned a basketball clinic for kids. The adult team uses as their home base the courts at Centennial Park, which is where the Northeast DuPage Special Recreation Association is based.

That three-week clinic that attracted six players a decade ago turned into a team, and over the years has helped launch nearly a dozen other teams in suburban DuPage County, as well as surrounding areas.

A tournament sponsored by the Jr. Bulls last weekend attracted eight teams, one of which traveled from Rockford to play.

The gymnasium bleachers were full of parents, siblings and fans of the teams and players. And they were frequently led in enthusiastic cheering and support by 11-year-old Peter Ostling, of Elmhurst, who the team affectionately refers to as their mascot.

Though he's a two-year veteran of the team, the boy will often show up for a game and tell the coach he doesn't want to play that day, feeling the need to cheer instead. No one stands in his way.

It's hard to argue with such genuine enthusiasm, his father, also named Peter Ostling, said.

"It took him a few (games)," he explained, "and then he took over."