When the last wheelchair rugby team in Denver dissolved, it left more than an empty court. It left a gap where purpose, camaraderie, and identity used to live.

I saw that clearly. And I knew it wasn’t just about the sport- it was people needing a place to belong, to rebuild, and to compete for something again.

In the beginning, it was just a small group of players who didn’t want to let the game disappear. We found early footing alongside the able-bodied Denver Barbarians rugby club, an organization with a strong legacy and a standard of excellence. That connection mattered. It gave us something to build from, so if we were going to do this, it had to be done the right way.

The first season was rough. We were figuring things out in real time. As a coach, I was learning how to lead, and as players, we were trying to understand where we fit. We won one game, and even that came by default, but there was something underneath it all that kept us going.

Over time, that turned into identity. What formed wasn’t just a team but something more like a brotherhood. The rugby court is where people built confidence, found independence, and started to move forward again. Wheelchair rugby gave us more than competition. It gave us direction, and eventually, we stopped being the underdogs.

What matters most isn’t just what we’ve done on the court, it’s who we’ve become off of it. Teammates have turned into family, and individuals have learned to navigate life with strength while showing up for each other and the community.

Now, in just our third season, we’re heading to the United States Wheelchair Rugby Association Division III National Championship in Birmingham, Alabama. From one default win to competing for a national title, this didn’t happen by accident. It came from people committing to building something together.

We hope you join the Barbo's family!