Will Babbington’s coaching story is the diametrical opposite of societal norms.

Big words, but then this is a big deal because Will, a wheelchair user, coaches non-disabled American footballers.

He obviously hasn’t read the script.

A role model to wheelchair users who love sport but think their route into coaching is blocked by a brick wall, Will has broken those barriers down, reversing back over them for good measure, to send a message out loud and clear: you can do this too.

Will’s story is not unique, but it is the exception to the rule.

I remember reading of a man in Bradford who uses a wheelchair and made history by coaching non-disabled footballers.

Sohail Rehman doesn’t do things by halves – the club in question was Manchester United!

The 23-year-old said he looked at Jose Mourinho and thought, “If he can do it and he has never played the game, then so can I.” So Sohail took his coaching badges and now works with teenage trialists at Manchester United Soccer Schools.

Another heartening example of a disabled sports coach bucking the trend. But what also struck a powerful note were the reader comments underneath the story.

One wrote: “Hopefully, the day when a story like this isn't automatically dubbed ‘inspirational’, or isn’t even a story at all, is fast approaching.”

And another reader commented: “Too many people think that disabled people are also unable to think. I hope for his peers that others take heart at this news.”

We can only hope ‘one-offs’ like these are the drizzle before the deluge.

Intensive care

For Will, his route into coaching was a slow one.

But to understand his reasons for taking the plunge, you must first understand his disability.

“I have an auto-immune condition affecting my muscles, leaving them really weak,” he begins. “I’ve had it all my life, but it got bad enough to need a chair about eight years ago.

During a fraught time for himself and his family, Will lost strength in the muscles all over his body. Fortunately, his condition improved and he embarked on a long process of rehabilitation.

But though his muscles became stronger, he never regained enough strength to walk.

“In theory, I could one day walk again, but in reality, it’s unlikely. It’s purely down to resources within the NHS. Four or five years ago I had intensive physiotherapy. Every week I would have a good few hours and, by the end of the 12 months, I was able to stand and use a Zimmer frame for about 10 metres and things were progressing.

“But then they had staff cutbacks. I was using their facilities a lot and you were only meant to have six weeks of physio and I’d had 12 months. That couldn’t continue. Then everything started to deteriorate again. So, unless I win the lottery, and I can hire a physio every single day, nothing is going to change unfortunately.”

Land of the Giants

Will admits he spent several years in the doldrums before finally shaking himself out of his malaise.

“I was feeling sorry for myself and I became very comfortable with not really doing much as I get tired out very easily,” he adds.

And so began the dawn of a new era. Will did some research into local clubs and started going fencing and playing tennis. But American football was always his favourite sport growing up. He has been a big New York Giants fan all his life – he wears his Giants cap religiously at training sessions – and began to ponder the prospect of dipping his toe into coaching.

“I started thinking, ‘I wonder if I can be more involved in the sport than just playing it?’ And then I read this tweet from an American football academy in Leeds saying they were looking for players. I got in touch and asked if they were looking for coaches as well and they said, ‘Sure, come down.’

“At that point, they didn’t know I was in a wheelchair but it didn’t faze them when I did turn up and, slowly, I started to get more and more involved.”

Leeds Academy of American Football is based at Leeds Beckett University. Will joined them six months after they were formed, when around a dozen children would turn up to the Saturday morning sessions. Now, between 50 and 60 players aged between five and 18 flock to training.

Will also goes into schools and introduces children to the sport, helping coach PE taster sessions and setting up after-school clubs.

He currently manages the under-17s squad, proudly proclaiming: “Despite only being formed officially in January, we made the national finals and finished sixth out of 36 teams.”

Next year he will be taking the under-19s and hopes by then to have passed his Level 2 badge, which is the highest qualification American football coaches can attain.

No stick in the mud

I ask him about the practical problems associated with coaching in a wheelchair, like if he ever gets bogged down by Yorkshire’s wicked weather – literally, three inches down in the mud?

“Fortunately, we train on a 3G surface but it is still pretty difficult getting around on it,” says Will.

“I’m in a manual wheelchair so it’s all under my own power. My arms are one of the areas where I am still very weak so it is tricky but, again, everyone accepts that and they will maybe hold on for an extra couple of minutes in a group, waiting for me to catch them up. If I do need help on the pitch, there is always someone there to help push me.

"The problems are certainly not insurmountable.”

And is his voice of authority listened to as much as the other coaches?

“I think so, yes. There have been no spiked comments and nobody has passed anything on to the other coaches. But it is certainly something that has concerned me and still does to a certain extent.

“After all, the perception of people in wheelchairs isn’t necessarily that they have all their faculties. They may think, ‘Why should we listen to you? You’re not demonstrating it to us.’ But it’s not what you look like, it’s what you know, what you can do to help them achieve.

"We have very good kids who are all well brought up and are respectful of authority. If you can build up that rapport with them, you can show them that, okay, I might not be able to demonstrate a certain skill but I can describe it or get someone else to demonstrate it while I am describing what it is I want them to do.

Will, 35, who is a wide receiver coach and offensive coordinator, says his style of coaching is definitely not based on the American model. You won’t see him whipping his players up into a frenzy or yelling instructions at them while the veins pop out of his neck.

“Even though it’s been around since the late ’70s, early ’80s, the sport is still shiny and new to a lot of people in this country and, especially in terms of coaching, we’re having to give it a British twist,” he says.

“The hype that exists in America just doesn’t work here, our kids aren’t like that. You have to completely change the coaching and bring it within the British system and way of doing things.”

Just do it

As any coach will tell you, whatever their gender, race, nationality or disability, you get out of coaching what you put in. But you have to be in coaching in the first place to reap the rewards.

Will’s message to other wheelchair users is to just go and do it. Once you have dipped your toe in sports coaching, you will never look back. His rallying cry then is simple: help yourself by helping others.

“You’ve got nothing to lose by giving it a go and you never know what may happen, how brilliant you’ll find it. If you find something you’re passionate about, it shouldn’t matter that you are in a wheelchair.