Kyle Erickson, 13, of Acton, has schizencephaly, a rare developmental brain disorder, and is nonverbal and nonambulatory. He uses a power chair to get around.
“He’s quite creative,’’ says his mother, Faith, who adopted Kyle when he was 2. “He likes to run around the bases backwards. He showboats.’’
Kyle communicates through a computer. “He says one of the best things about the Miracle League is that ‘kids can be themselves,’ ’’ says Erickson.
In doing so, they stir your heart. No one who was there will ever forget what Josh White, 11, did once. Josh has spina bifida. When he hit the ball, he got out of his wheelchair and crawled around the bases. Spectators couldn’t stop their tears.
“He crossed home plate with a smile on his face. The crowd went crazy,’’ says league cofounder Richard Shertenlieb.
“Josh does a lot of crazy things out there,’’ says his father, Brian, from Oxford. “He came here a shy little kid and just blossomed.’’
“I’m always doing stuff,’’ says Josh, smiling.
The Miracle League has just finished its fourth season, and has launched a fund-raising campaign to build a suitable field in Acton with a rubberized surface and handicapped-accessible dugouts.
The boys and girls are drawn to the program from near and far, 39 communities in all. They may have Down syndrome, or be partially blind, autistic, paralyzed, or otherwise limited physically. But their hearts are unfazed. Call them ballplayers, and they light up.
Owen Anketell’s legs “don’t work,’’ says his mother, Peggy, from Hudson. Owen, 10, is in a wheelchair. He uses a crutch for a bat, and leans on it as he goes around the bases as fast as he can. “Goin’ Owen!’’ Shertenlieb shouts out.
“Owen tried soccer when he was 3,’’ says Anketell. “It was very competitive. We tried to find something else for him.’’ The Miracle League was it. “Owen loves sports,’’ she continues. “He knows the whole Red Sox lineup.’’
