Dave Kiley sinks one shot after another on the morning I visit him at Lowe'sYMCA.
It's little surprise, as Kiley is one of America's all-time greatest men's wheelchair basketball players.
He and his wife, Sandy, who have two grown children, live on Brawley School Road. I was lucky to catch up with him at one of his recent practices, where he was launching 300 shots from various angles and then 100 free throws. He works out on weights three or four times a week and does cardio exercises daily.
He's also helping raise $25,000 to make the planned Hope Park at Lowe's YMCA accessible to children and adults with disabilities. About 2,200 volunteers are scheduled to build the park March 10-14.
But the California native often travels the globe as head coach of the U.S. women's Paralympic wheelchair basketball team.
He also coaches the national champion Junior Charlotte Rollin' Bobcats wheelchair basketball team and coaches and plays point guard for a Rollin' Bobcats adult team.
On Thursday, Kiley played point guard for the East squad in the National Wheelchair Basketball Association's all-star game in Dallas, Texas.
Monday, he flies to Osaka, Japan, where women trying out for the 2012 U.S. women's Paralympic basketball team will play Australia and Japan.
"I'm getting in shape to be the best I can be as an example to them," Kiley said of the Paralympic women's hopefuls.
At 56, Kiley said, he trains hard for another reason: The guys he plays are in their 20s and 30s, and "everybody comes out to show me who's boss."
It's usually Kiley who comes out the winner.
He played on the Casa Colina Condors team in California that won a national record 98 straight games.
Kiley has racked up 13 medals, nine gold, in various Paralympic events over the decades, including in basketball, skiing and track.
He's won an unprecedented six MVP awards in NWBA tournaments and was voted most valuable player of the first 50 years of the sport by the International Wheelchair Basketball Association.
Yet, despite all the medals and accolades, Kiley said he considers himself a regular guy who puts God first, family second and hoops third.
He has been a paraplegic since he was 19. He was riding an inner tube in the snow when it crashed into a tree.
His injury was hard to accept the first year or two, he said. But when he did, it opened a new world.
"It was God's plan," Kiley told me. "All I had to do was accept it."
Now, he said, he's doing what he loves best, playing and coaching and making a difference in kids' lives.
He and his family moved from California when he landed his dream job as a therapeutic recreation specialist at Carolinas Medical Center in Charlotte in 1996. He stayed in that job for a decade and said he loves Lake Norman so much he'll never move back West.
He earns income through paid speeches around the world and royalties from the maker of his Quickie All Court wheelchair.
"It's like Michael Jordan with his sneakers contract," kidded his son, Justin "Juice" Kiley, 30, an assistant coach on his dad's teams. "But Michael has a lot more zeroes in his contract."
He also gives speeches for free to local civic groups to raise money for the Hope Park project. Friend James Yates of Mooresville often accompanies Kiley. Yates is a partner in Hutchby & Yates LLC, a Mooresville-based capital management and wealth planning firm, and leads the steering committee raising money to accommodate special needs at Hope Park.
Yates' 9-year-old son, also named James, has cerebral palsy and has benefited from being around Kiley. At his recent practice at Lowe's YMCA, Kiley playfully bumped his wheelchair into young James' chair as they maneuvered about the court.
Yates said his son has paralysis in his right hand and once told Kiley he couldn't control it.
"Yes, you can," Kiley told James, and James worked on the hand so much that he is now able to use it.
Young James used to come to the Lowe's court and just watch others play hoops. Now he plays, and his gait and balance are "90 percent better," Yates said of his son. And it's all thanks to Kiley, he said.
As we chatted, we watched Kiley encourage James on the other end of the court. They moved their wheelchairs around in a nonstop whir.
"Have you noticed?" Yates asked me, looking down the court at Kiley. "He hasn't missed a basket since we've been talking."