In yesterday’s post, guest blogger Scott Newport gave us a glimpse of the Miracle League, a special baseball program where all the players are safe and every kid is a winner. Today, he takes us further into his wonderful dream, where we meet a little boy having the time of his life participating in the Miracle League.
The Miracle League, Part 2
As I continued to dream, a small boy with an over-sized head approached the plate. This player, a bit small for his age, wasn’t in a wheelchair, but he needed help getting to the plate. The man who walked alongside the wobbly kid must have been his dad. It wasn’t a mystery who his mom was. She was the pretty blond gal in the stands smiling and crying all at the same time. The closer the boy and his dad got to the batter’s box, the more she jumped up and down.
You Can Do It, You Can Do It!
I looked back at the boy. He had a plastic tube in his neck that must have been to help him breathe. He also had a noticeable wet spot on the front of his uniform where it appeared that another tube protruded from his belly, like one of those tubes that a sick child is fed through. His dad, still in his worn-out work boots and dirty jeans, got down on one knee to hand the bat to his son. He communicated to his boy in sign language. I don’t know a thing about the hearing impaired, but it was obvious to me what he was signing: “You can do it, son, you can do it.”
The boy never swung, not even once, as more than ten balls pitched past him. To tell you the truth, I wondered if he even could. Suddenly, the umpire straightened up and yelled, “Run, run, go to first base.” The player and his dad held hands and struggled for first base. It seemed to take forever, but they made it. The umpire ran out to first base and yelled as he waved his arms in familiar fashion, “You’re…. safe!”
“Wow, that was close,” I thought.
Keep Going
But before I could wake from my dream, the first base coach yelled, “Keep going!” as he pointed to second base and started to swing his arm like a windmill.
In the stands, I saw the mother again. She stood up and her voice rose above the rest. She yelled, “C’mon, son, you can do it!”
So off the boy went. His dad continued to help him. It was almost too painful to watch as the simple act of running the bases seemed like such a struggle for the boy. The pair eventually rounded third base and headed for home plate. I was now screaming like the rest of the fans in the stands, acting like a fool as I cheered for the little guy.
His breath was coming hard now. The air sounded raspy as it passed through his tube. He was worn out but he had the hugest smile on his face. He was definitely having the time of his life.
You’re Safe!
The umpire was still out in the middle of the field, almost on purpose, as father and son crossed home plate. He nodded at me, letting me know that it was up to me to call the play.
So I did. I yelled as loud as I could, “You’re… safe!”
Game Called Because of Tears
The boy, so tired by now, turned and looked at me. I recognized the blonde curls peeking out from his helmet. I saw that familiar face. I looked into the eyes of the boy I love and know so well. He was my son. The boy everyone was cheering for was my little guy. The father who was crying and hugging him now was my own reflection.
Once again, I started to wake from my dream, but before I could, the umpire, bless his soul, held up his chubby arms and called the game because of rain. Of course, you all know the flood of drops was not coming from the sky but from me and from all the spectators in attendance that day.
I awoke from my dream, still standing mid-field with my friend and kindred spirit, Steve. As we shared the vision of all that was in store for this baseball field, he said to me: “Yes, Evan will play here someday and he’ll run the bases. He’ll hit a home run and he will know he is safe.”
And that, my friend, is a miracle.
Scott
(Evan’s dad)
Evan Newport lived joyfully for seven wonderful years. God took him home in November of 2009.
Leave a Comment for Scott
If you enjoyed daydreaming with Scott, leave a comment. Or if your child participates in Challenger Little League or a similar sports program, share one of your favorite sports memories. We’d love to hear from you!
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Wow what a great story I know you cherished your time of 7 years with your son and one day you will rejoin with him in heaven as he is on GOD’s ball team now making homeruns daily.
What a delightful peek into Scott’s high school years. Who knows what talent lies below the surface in many students?
Jolene
Scott, you write so well today because you feel deeply about everything you write. Frankly, I thought at first that I was too busy to read this, but you got me! I was in tears by the end. What a gift–to have been the “custodial parent” (spiritually speaking) of Evan during his sojourn here. Your experiences have touched many who have their own struggles. Little did I know in 1973 that a most reluctant writer in my English class, who could care less about punctuation rules, would someday touch so many lives with his words.
Thanks for all the comments. Scott expresses his emotions in a way that touches our hearts as your responses show.
Jolene
This story is a blessing and a reminder of how to be- infused with the passion of living, no matter what our abilities.
Scott Newport came to my school and read this story aloud to a room full of over 200 11 and 12 year-old kids in the spring of 2008. Evan was with him at the time. The kids were completely spellbound. Scott’s story was a timeless gift that will guide their hearts forever.
This was beautiful. I know you cherish the seven wonderful years you shared with Evan. Thank you for sharing.
That was absolutely beautiful, Scott. Consider me a follower of your dreams.
It was raining (tears) here too when I read the story. It’s great to know that Evan is safe now and can run the bases faster than his Dad.