Culture
Behind Timberwolves’ decision to start Joe Ingles so his autistic son could see him play
MINNEAPOLIS — About 35 minutes before the Minnesota Timberwolves were set to tip off against the New Orleans Pelicans on Friday night, an eruption could be heard in the back hallways of Target Center.
It came from the locker room, and the timing seemed odd for a team that was in the doldrums after two straight dispiriting losses to teams that had no business winning in this building. It came from an announcement from head coach Chris Finch, just before the regular game plan meeting started.
As the team gathered around, Finch told them they had the chance to do something special on this night. He wasn’t talking about getting revenge on the Pelicans, who embarrassed them two nights prior. He wasn’t talking about closing the gap on the Golden State Warriors for the coveted No. 6 seed in the Western Conference playoff chase. He was talking about doing something for one of their own and a family that has been through hell.
Finch told his team that he was giving veteran forward Joe Ingles his first start of the season, even though this was a “must-win game.” As the players looked around at each other, he told them why a guy who had appeared in only 18 of the team’s previous 71 games, five of which lasted 3 seconds or less, was suddenly starting for a team that was flailing. He told them that Ingles’ wife and three children were in town visiting this week and that one of life’s little miracles had occurred for them at a game against the Utah Jazz on Sunday.
He told them how Ingles’ 8-year-old son, Jacob, has autism, and how he had never been able to sit through the sensory overload of an NBA game from start to finish. He told them that on Sunday, for the first time ever, Jacob was able to watch the entire game, an incredible breakthrough for him and the family that has fought so hard for him since he was diagnosed at 2 1/2 years old.
There was only one bummer: Ingles did not play in that game. Friday marked the last day the family would be together before mom and the kids headed back to their full-time home in Orlando, where Jacob has a school that he loves and a house that provides him much-needed comfort.
When Finch got word of Jacob’s milestone, he became determined to make sure that the boy got to see his dad on the court this time. Not only did Finch plan to play Ingles against the Pelicans, he told his team that he planned to put him in the starting lineup.
“I figured, if we’re going to do it, let’s do it in style,” Finch said.
The entire team started clapping and cheering, a response so emphatic that the cement block walls that separate the locker room from the arena hallway couldn’t contain the noise. All of a sudden, a team that had lost its swag, as Julius Randle put it after the loss on Wednesday dropped them to eighth in the West, was reinvigorated.
“I would want coach to do the same for me if I was in that position,” forward Jaden McDaniels said.
What followed was a 134-93 victory over the Pels. Randle had 20 points, six rebounds and five assists, Rudy Gobert had 15 points, 11 rebounds and three steals and Anthony Edwards scored 17 points. The most important person on the court that night went scoreless in six minutes, missing all three of his shots, committing two fouls and turning it over once. The most important person in the building, a young boy who was non-verbal early on in his diagnosis but is now in school and growing and developing and blossoming, was able to watch an entire NBA game for the second time in a row. The only difference this time was Jacob got to see his dad play.
“This is the stuff,” Ingles said, “I’ll remember forever.”
This was a major moment for the Ingles family, a line of demarcation in a seemingly endless battle to help Jacob find his way in a world that can leave behind kids like him. It was also a jolt to a team that seemed to be hitting a wall, to a group of players that were maybe feeling a little sorry for themselves when even an eight-game winning streak earlier this month couldn’t put a dent in the narrow lead the Warriors had on them in the playoff race.
“Sometimes you gotta do the human thing,” Finch said. “We always talk about how all these minutes matter, and (Ingles’) minutes mattered for another reason.”
Ten days ago, the Timberwolves were flying high after a 20-point thumping of the Nuggets in Denver. They returned to Minnesota for a five-game homestand filled with struggling teams, giving them realistic hopes that a season full of frustration and inconsistency was congealing at just the right time. They beat the Magic and the Jazz to run their winning streak to eight and were carrying themselves like a team that wasn’t afraid of anyone in the West.
Then came an overtime loss on Monday to the Pacers, who played without Tyrese Haliburton, Myles Turner and Pascal Siakam. They followed that on Wednesday with a loss to the Pelicans, who were beaten by 46 points in their previous game and had the second-worst record in the West.
“The energy is off. It’s funky. We’re not playing with that same spirit or the same confidence,” Randle said after that game.
Finch searched for answers to restore the team’s edge. On Thursday, he spoke of how the team has proved to be “moody” this season, soaring when the shots are falling and the wins are coming and sulking when things aren’t going their way.
“We’ve got to be able to survive our own mistakes a little bit better,” Finch said. “Sometimes guys have the propensity to worry a little bit too much about themselves and how things affect themselves rather than the greater good.”
He emphasized to the group that there was little anyone could do to change their individual statistics this late in the season. The sample size is too large for any of them to see their per-game averages rise or fall in a noticeable way. The only thing they can do to affect their seasons in a positive way is to come together and win some games.
Little did he know that less than 24 hours after having that talk with the team during a film session at practice, he would get word of something that could help him illustrate in ways both powerful and relatable what an approach like that looked like.
Ingles’ wife, Renae, and all three children have spent the entire season at the family’s full-time home in Orlando. The end of Ingles’ career is much closer than the start, so when he signed a one-year, veteran minimum deal with the Timberwolves last summer, they decided the family would not follow him to Minnesota. Taking Jacob out of his comfort zone for nine months did not seem practical or productive.
Joe being gone has put even more of the burden on Renae’s shoulders.
“There’s a little less stress because I can afford to pay for Jacob to get what he needs, but it doesn’t take away the meltdowns in the supermarket,” Joe said. “There’s been so many times that my wife is laying on the floor in public and you can feel people staring at you, you know they’re judging you and commenting about it. But they have no idea what he’s gone through that day or the night before or the situation.”
The school they found in Orlando has been an immense help to Jacob’s development. The progress manifested in a tangible way for this basketball family on Sunday against the Jazz. Typically, Jacob will not last long amid the onslaught of thumping music, strobing lights and mascots running amok. They tried to take him to a Minnesota Wild hockey game earlier this season.
“He lasted three minutes,” Ingles said.
Then came Sunday, when Renae and the kids watched the entire first half without issue. At halftime, they retreated to a family room where the children of players hang out, play video games and pass the time if they do not want to sit still in an arena seat for two straight hours. When they got to the room, Jacob had a request for his mother, Renae told The Athletic.
“Have the timer on and watch the clock so that I don’t miss a second of the action,” he said.
Renae almost did a doubletake. She asked Jacob if he wanted to stay and play PlayStation instead.
“Why?” he said. “I can play the PlayStation at home. I’m here to watch my dad.”
They all returned to their seats and watched the entire second half. Joe kept looking up at his family, expecting the seats to be empty each time. Each time, the three of them were right there, having a blast. The pride overflowed from the thick-skinned Aussie, offering a moment of clarity for how far his son had come.
“There’s a lot to it that people don’t see behind the scenes,” Joe said. “Shoot, with the NBA and the money, (people think) those problems go away, and they don’t. It’s a reality for us every day, and Jacob is doing great now, but there’s still a lot of challenges that we go through.”
Renae has a robust Instagram presence, and she dedicates much of it to advocating for inclusion and educating about life with autism. She said she rarely posts about basketball on her feed, but she could not contain her excitement after the game against the Jazz.
“As a dad, just really proud that he’s worked so hard every day with school, therapy, speech, everything that he has to do to fit in in a not very friendly world a lot of the time,” Joe said, “and fit in to work has hard as he has and now get the benefits of now being able to be with his brother, sister and mom, sit there and watch his dad.”
On Friday morning, while Finch was still looking for ways to snap the team out of the mini-funk it was in, he was made aware that Jacob was going to be back in the arena one more time before they headed back home. It was suggested to him that if the Wolves got a comfortable lead in the game that night, getting Ingles into the game would be a cool moment.
His wheels started turning. He called Ingles into his office.
“Initially, I probably thought I was going to be in trouble for something, so I was trying to think of what I’d done over the last 48 hours,” Ingles said.
Finch talked with Ingles about Jacob, about the eternal ups and downs of autism, about the hope that Sunday provided them, but also the acknowledgment that there was no certainty with how Friday would go. Maybe Jacob would build on that experience and ride another game out the whole way. Or maybe it would be another tough night and Jacob would ask mom to go home three minutes into the game.
Finch soaked it all in and then told Ingles of his plan. He did not want to wait for garbage time to get Ingles some minutes. The Wolves had been playing poorly so there was no guarantee those minutes would come anyway. The coach told Ingles he wanted him to start, just to make sure that Jacob, Milla and Jack all got to see him play.
“Are you sure?” Ingles said.
Ingles knew this was no small gesture from Finch. The Wolves had lost two straight games and were 1 1/2 games behind the Warriors for the coveted No. 6 seed, which would take them out of the Play-In Tournament. These games are too important, and the Wolves had some mojo to rediscover. Ingles did not want to mess with that pursuit.
Ingles had played a grand total of 3 seconds in the previous 10 games and had not played more than 5:13 in the last 14 games. And Finch wanted to start him?
“It’s the reality of our business. People get fired every day,” Ingles said. “You see coaches on three-, four-year deals, players getting traded. It’s a brutal business. The fact that it even crossed his mind shows a lot.”
Finch insisted. He spoke to guard Mike Conley about giving Ingles his starting spot for the night. Conley has always been the most selfless of the Timberwolves players, so it came as no surprise to Finch that his point guard was thrilled with his idea. Conley also played with Ingles in Utah and was intimately aware of the family’s struggles, so there wasn’t a moment’s hesitation.
That the Pelicans were playing without star Zion Williamson, who overwhelmed the Wolves in their game on Wednesday night, was of little solace. The Timberwolves have followed a maddening pattern of playing their worst basketball against teams that were missing their best players.
This was no time for sentiment.
Or was it?
What if a gesture like this was exactly what the team needed? What if a squad that looked a little bit tired, a lot frustrated and, more than anything, completely confused about how things had fallen off so quickly had to touch some grass? What if the best way to get some worn-down players to stop hanging their heads was for their coach to put his neck on the line for a teammate? What if he was trying to show them that he saw them not as just X’s and O’s on a whiteboard, but as human beings with families, and that sometimes there are things far more important than basketball?
Finch did not just start Ingles for ceremony and pull him at the first whistle. He called the first play for Ingles, getting him a clean look at a runner down the lane that rimmed out. Ingles played the first six minutes of the first quarter, but like life with Jacob, this was no fairy tale. Truth be told, Ingles didn’t play very well, but Finch did not pull the plug early, even as they fell behind early.
Once Ingles left, with the Timberwolves ahead 13-12, he did not return to the game. Conley started the second half, and the Wolves pulled away.
“Guys were behind it, and I think it gave us just the right boost that we needed and change of energy,” Finch said. “So it’s not often that you get to do those types of things. But we’re really happy that we could.”
Joe’s son, Jacob, watching his dad make his first Wolves start. 💙 pic.twitter.com/SzuH7cMISA
— Minnesota Timberwolves (@Timberwolves) March 22, 2025
“I’ve watched him build his amazing family and I watched him go through everything they went through, the family,” said Gobert, who played seven seasons with Ingles in Utah. “I was excited and I was excited obviously for his family and to play with Joe, because I think he’s a really, really good player.”
Nights like this are not just big for the Timberwolves or the Ingles family. Finch’s magnanimous decision quickly spread across social media, the kind of organic, flash-bulb moment that can generate even more support for children like Jacob.
Joe and Renae have become tireless advocates for autism awareness. They helped organize Autism Awareness/Acceptance nights when Ingles played for the Jazz and Milwaukee Bucks and are board members for KultureCity, a non-profit that specializes in sensory accessibility and inclusion.
Renae knows that the coverage this moment receives will make hearts swell across the country. But she also wants it to serve as a reminder of how difficult life can be for families like theirs, especially those who do not have the financial resources of an NBA player.
“This truly took years and years of work and practice and getting it wrong and not having it work and trying things and failing at things and so much sacrifice to get to this point,” she said. “So it feels nice this week that Joe and I can feel like we are making the right choices for Jacob and his needs. But it’s not all rainbows. … We still have those days and moments.”
Renae’s voice quivered and tears welled in her eyes as she thanked Finch and the Timberwolves for everything they gave her family on Friday night.
“Tonight was truly bigger than basketball for us and our family,” she said on her Instagram story.
Finch wanted it to be bigger than basketball for the other 14 players on the roster as well. They had been in their feelings over the last four days and needed to snap out of it. A 41-point romp over one of the worst teams in the league doesn’t mean another winning streak is about to commence. It shouldn’t put the Warriors on notice that they are re-engaging in the race. But it did allow for them to step outside of themselves, look at a 37-year-old father and an 8-year-old son and take a moment to understand how good they’ve got it.
Long after the game was over, after media swarmed him at his locker for the first time all season and after he received all the well wishes from teammates, security guards and team personnel, Ingles walked to his car and made the short drive from the arena to his downtown apartment. When he opened the door, his three children were all there to greet him.
All they wanted to do was talk about the game.
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(Photo of Anthony Edwards and Joe Ingles: Brad Rempel / Imagn Images)
Culture
What Happens When We Die? This Wallace Stevens Poem Has Thoughts.
Whatever you do, don’t think of a bird.
Now: What kind of bird are you not thinking about? A pigeon? A bald eagle? Something more poetic, like a skylark or a nightingale? In any case, would you say that this bird you aren’t thinking about is real?
Before you answer, read this poem, which is quite literally about not thinking of a bird.
Human consciousness is full of riddles. Neuroscientists, philosophers and dorm-room stoners argue continually about what it is and whether it even exists. For Wallace Stevens, the experience of having a mind was a perpetual source of wonder, puzzlement and delight — perfectly ordinary and utterly transcendent at the same time. He explored the mysteries and pleasures of consciousness in countless poems over the course of his long poetic career. It was arguably his great theme.
Stevens was born in 1879 and published his first book, “Harmonium,” in 1923, making him something of a late bloomer among American modernists. For much of his adult life, he worked as an executive for the Hartford Accident and Indemnity Company, rising to the rank of vice president. He viewed insurance less as a day job to support his poetry than as a parallel vocation. He pursued both activities with quiet diligence, spending his days at the office and composing poems in his head as he walked to and from work.
As a young man, Stevens dreamed of traveling to Europe, though he never crossed the Atlantic. In middle age he made regular trips to Florida, and his poems are frequently infused with ideas of Paris and Rome and memories of Key West. Others partake of the stringent beauty of New England. But the landscapes he explores, wintry or tropical, provincial or cosmopolitan, are above all mental landscapes, created by and in the imagination.
Are those worlds real?
Let’s return to the palm tree and its avian inhabitant, in that tranquil Key West sunset of the mind.
Until then, we find consolation in fangles.
Culture
Wil Wheaton Discusses ‘Stand By Me’ and Narrating ‘The Body’ Audiobook
When the director Rob Reiner cast his leads in the 1986 film “Stand by Me,” he looked for young actors who were as close as possible to the personalities of the four children they’d be playing. There was the wise beyond his years kid from a rough family (River Phoenix), the slightly dim worrywart (Jerry O’Connell), the cutup with a temper (Corey Feldman) and the sensitive, bookish boy.
Wil Wheaton was perfect for that last one, Gordie Lachance, a doe-eyed child who is ignored by his family in favor of his late older brother. Now, 40 years later, he’s traveling the country to attend anniversary screenings of the film, alongside O’Connell and Feldman, which has thrown him back into the turmoil that he felt as an adolescent.
Wheaton has channeled those emotions and his on-set memories into his latest project: narrating a new audiobook version of “The Body,” the 1982 Stephen King novella on which the film was based.
A few years ago, Wheaton started to float the idea of returning to the story that gave him his big break — that of a quartet of boys in 1959 Oregon, in their last days before high school, setting out to find a classmate’s dead body. “I’ve been telling the story of ‘Stand By Me’ since I was 12 years old,” he said.
But this time was different. Wheaton, who has narrated dozens of audiobooks, including Andy Weir’s “The Martian” and Ernest Cline’s “Ready Player One,” says he has come to enjoy narration more than screen acting. “I’m safe, I’m in the booth, nobody’s looking at me and I can just tell you a story.”
The fact that he, an older man looking back on his younger years, is narrating a story about an older man looking back on his younger years, is not lost on Wheaton. King’s original story is bathed in nostalgia. Coming to terms with death and loss is one of its primary themes.
Two days after appearing on stage at the Academy Awards as part of a tribute to Reiner — who was murdered in 2025 alongside his wife, Michele — Wheaton got on the phone to talk about recording the audiobook, reliving his favorite scenes from the film and reexamining a quintessential story of childhood loss through the lens of his own.
This interview has been edited and condensed.
“I felt really close to him, and my memory of him.”
Wheaton on channeling a co-star’s performance.
There’s this wonderful scene in “Stand By Me.” Gordie and Chris are walking down the tracks talking about junior high. Chris is telling Gordie, “I wish to hell I was your dad, because I care about you, and he obviously doesn’t.”
It’s just so honest and direct, in a way that kids talk to each other that adults don’t. And I think that one of the reasons that really sticks with people, and that piece really lands on a lot of audiences, and has for 40 years, is, just too many people have been Gordie in that scene.
That scene is virtually word for word taken from the text of the book. And when I was narrating that, I made a deliberate choice to do my best to recreate what River did in that scene.
“You’re just a kid,
Gordie–”
“I wish to fuck
I was your father!”
he said angrily.
“You wouldn’t go around
talking about takin those stupid shop courses if I was!
It’s like
God gave you something,
all those stories
you can make up, and He said:
This is what we got for you, kid.
Try not to lose it.
But kids lose everything
unless somebody looks out for them and if your folks
are too fucked up to do it
then maybe I ought to.”
I watched that scene a couple of times because I really wanted — I don’t know why it was so important to me to — well, I know: because I loved him, and I miss him. And I wanted to bring him into this as best as I could, right?
So I was reading that scene, and the words are identical to the script. And I had this very powerful flashback to being on the train tracks that day in Cottage Grove, Oregon. And I could see River standing next to them. They’re shooting my side of the scene and there’s River, right next to the camera, doing his off-camera dialogue, and there’s the sound guy, and there’s the boom operator. There’s my key light.
I could hear and feel it. It was the weirdest thing. It’s like I was right back there.
I was able to really take in the emotional memory of being Gordie in all of those scenes. So when I was narrating him and I’m me and I’m old with all of this experience, I just drew on what I remembered from being that little boy and what I remember of those friendships and what they meant to me and what they mean to me today.
“Rob gave me a gift. Rob gave me a career.”
Wheaton recalls the “Stand By Me” director’s way with kids on set, as well as his recent Oscars tribute.
Rob really encouraged us to be kids.
Jerry tells the most amazing story about that scene, where we were all sitting around, and doing our bit, and he improvised. He was just goofing around — we were just playing — and he said something about spitting water at the fat kid.
We get to the end of the scene, and he hears Rob. Rob comes around from behind the thing, and he goes, “Jerry!” And Jerry thinks, “Oh no, I’m in trouble. I’m in trouble because I improvised, and I’m not supposed to improvise.”
The context for Jerry is that he had been told by the adults in his life, “Sit on your hands and shut up. Stop trying to be a cutup. Stop trying to be funny. Stop disrupting people. Just be quiet.” And Jerry thinks, “Oh my God. I didn’t shut up. I’m in trouble. I’m gonna get fired.”
Rob leans in to all of us, and Rob says, “Hey, guys, do you see that? More of that. Do that!”
The whole time when you’re a kid actor, you’re just around all these adults who are constantly telling you to grow up. They’re mad that you’re being a kid. Rob just created an environment where not only was it supported that we would be kids — and have fun, and follow those kid instincts and do what was natural — it was expected. It was encouraged. We were supposed to do it.
They chanted together:
“I don’t shut up,
I grow up.
And when I look at you I throw up.”
“Then your mother goes around the corner
and licks it up,”
I said, and hauled ass out of there,
giving them the finger over my shoulder as I went.
I never had any friends later on
like the ones I had when I was twelve.
Jesus, did you?
When we were at the Oscars, I looked at Jerry. And we looked at this remarkable assemblage of the most amazingly talented, beautiful artists and storytellers. We looked around, and Jerry leans down, and he said, “We all got our start with Rob Reiner. He trusted every single one of us.”
And to stand there for him, when I really thought that I would be standing with him to talk about this stuff — it was a lot.
“I was really really really excited — like jumping up and down.”
The scene Wheaton was most looking forward to narrating: the tale of Lard Ass Hogan.
I was so excited to narrate it. It’s a great story! It’s a funny story. It’s such a lovely break — it’s an emotional and tonal shift from what’s happening in the movie.
I know this as a writer: You work to increase and release tension throughout a narrative, and Stephen King uses humor really effectively to release that tension. But it also raises the stakes, because we have these moments of joy and these moments of things being very silly in the midst of a lot of intensity.
That’s why the story of Lard Ass Hogan is so fun for me to tell. Because in the middle of that, we stop to do something that’s very, very fun, and very silly and very celebratory.
“Will you shut up and let him tell it?”
Teddy hollered.
Vern blinked.
“Sure. Yeah.
Okay.”
“Go on, Gordie,”
Chris said. “It’s not really much—”
“Naw,
we don’t expect much from a wet end like you,”
Teddy said,
“but tell it anyway.”
I cleared my throat. “So anyway.
It’s Pioneer Days,
and on the last night
they have these three big events.
There’s an egg-roll for the little kids and a sack-race for kids that are like eight or nine,
and then there’s the pie-eating contest.
And the main guy of the story
is this fat kid nobody likes
named Davie Hogan.”
When I narrate this story — whenever there is a moment of levity or humor, whenever there are those brief little moments that are the seasoning of the meal that makes it all so real and relatable — yes, it was very important to me to capture those moments.
I’m shifting in my chair, so I can feel each of those characters. It’s something that doesn’t exist in live action. It doesn’t exist in any other media.
“I feel the loss.”
Wheaton remembers River Phoenix.
The novella “The Body” is very much about Gordie remembering Chris. It’s darker, and it’s more painful, than the movie is.
I’ve been watching the movie on this tour and seeing River a lot. I remember him as a 14- and 15-year-old kid who just seemed so much older, and so much more experienced and so much wiser than me, and I’m only a year younger than him.
What hurts me now, and what I really felt when I was narrating this, is knowing what River was going through then. We didn’t know. I still don’t know the extent of how he was mistreated, but I know that he was. I know that adults failed him. That he should have been protected in every way that matters. And he just wasn’t.
And I, like Gordie, remember a boy who was loving. So loving, and generous and cared deeply about everyone around him, all the time. Who deserved to live a full life. Who had so much to offer the world. And it’s so unfair that he’s gone and taken from us. I had to go through a decades-long grieving process to come to terms with him dying.
Near the end
of 1971,
Chris
went into a Chicken Delight in Portland
to get a three-piece Snack Bucket.
Just ahead of him,
two men started arguing
about which one had been first in line. One of them pulled a knife.
Chris,
who had always been the best of us
at making peace,
stepped between them and was stabbed in the throat.
The man with the knife had spent time in four different institutions;
he had been released from Shawshank State Prison
only the week before.
Chris died almost instantly.
It is a privilege that I was allowed to tell this story. I get to tell Gordie Lachance’s story as originally imagined by Stephen King, with all of the experience of having lived my whole adult life with the memory of spending three months in Gordie Lachance’s skin.
Culture
Do You Know the Comics That Inspired These TV Adventures?
Welcome to Great Adaptations, the Book Review’s regular multiple-choice quiz about printed works that have gone on to find new life as movies, television shows, theatrical productions and more. This week’s challenge highlights offbeat television shows that began as comic books. Just tap or click your answers to the five questions below. And scroll down after you finish the last question for links to the comics and their screen versions.
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