All Star

THE ALL-STAR

It’s that time of year again, SPRING. Standing on this baseball field in this clear, crisp weather makes me feel at home. My husband and I have been here many times before with our three children; Ronnie, 11, Timmy 10, and Missy 9. Somehow  this time seems very different. Our fourth child, Joey, is waiting anxiously beside me to hear if he made the All-Star Little League team. He practices around the clock and counts the hours until his Saturday game. Quite a few people can’t believe he has such a pitching arm at his age.

As  Mr. McClendon,  my son’s Little League coach,  approached us and said what he said, I just felt the Lord looking down on me. I’m sure He was smiling and saying, “See, Mary, I keep telling you that all things are possible. Just ask and you shall receive!”

The coach’s fantastic news was that my baby had been picked for the All-star team. I was ecstatic! It wasn’t just for the honor of being picked as one of the top players, but because of the long, difficult path Joey had stumbled to reach this big day. Many long hours went into his being such a good pitcher.

Eight years ago, at his birth, the doctors told us that our adorable cherub had a rare genetic disease that we had never heard of before. It was PKU or Phenylketonuria. We were devastated. After agonizing hours of tears and disbelief, we tried to accept this obstacle right in the beginning of our son’s life. Our ignorance was soon replaced by thorough details from experts in the genetics field.  They told us that PKU is a chemical imbalance in the liver. Without and sometimes with the proper diet of no dairy, meat or fish, the child’s brain can be damaged.

              When Joey was six days old, he was placed in The Children’s Hospital of Philadelphia. Extensive testing followed–tubes, needles and isolation. After two long weeks, he was transferred to yet another hospital for PKU treatment. Here, my husband and I could only watch our little guy from behind big glass windows with tubes and bottles connected to his tiny body. We were devastated. God was our constant companion during this entire time just as He had always been. With His help, we tried to find the strength to endure this crisis. As He promised--”Seek and ye shall find”--- we did find the stamina. After weeks of prayer and little sleep, we were able to take our baby home.

For the next seven years, there were many more traumatic experiences. Joey’s diet was very difficult. Eating only vegetables, fruit and a nasty tasting formula took its toll. It was difficult for him to see his older brothers and sister eating things he couldn’t. He questioned why he had to only eat what we put in front of him. It was extremely hard for all of us.

PKU is a very rare disease and discovered by a prick to the baby’s heel at birth. They told us that only 1 in 25,000 are discovered with this disease at birth. 

He made weekly, then monthly visits to the hospital for blood and urine tests. He had seemingly endless physical check-ups, semi-annual psychological tests and brain-wave tests. These were quite a burden for our blue-eyed angel, as well as his parents who never let him out of their sight. But always right there helping us through it all, was the Creator of all angels.

Our Little Leaguer has been to nursery school, speech therapy and kindergarten. The doctors assure us that other than having a slight learning disability, he was doing well. Jesus heard our ‘knock’ and He opened a new door of life to our precious athlete.

Joey has loved sports from the time he crawled on the floor with a little rubber ball. His three older siblings were always available to play any sport with him. My husband always took him to the playground and made outdoor sports a big part of his growing up. He played basketball, football and a little soccer–all by the age of eight. We wanted him to have outlets and things to take his mind off his diet and all the visits to the doctors and hospitals.

But baseball seemed to be his major love. He seemed to be a great pitcher at this early age.

We were at one of his games when he took the pitcher’s mound. He tossed the ball back and forth between his glove and hand and changed body positions a few times. He didn’t seem nervous, just in preparation mode. As he raised his arm to throw the ball, we heard “Strike 1!” Then it was “Strike 2!” and on to “Strike 3!” We were yelling and clapping and then I heard thewoman behind me say to her husband, “That kid can’t be eight years old! The way he throws that fast ball, he must be 11 or 12!” I turned and asked her if she needed to see his birth certificate!

He always loved going to church with the family on Sunday. I wasn’t sure if it was the actual service he enjoyed or the six of us sitting together. After awhile, I realized it was the Sunday breakfast feasts at the local diner after the Mass.

When Joey heard he had been chosen as the All-star pitcher, he couldn’t stop jumping up and down and hugging all of us. I asked him what he thought made him so good. He answered, “God!” I was a little surprised and asked him to explain. He answered, shyly, his little blonde head bent…”Remember when you and daddy told me that every time I need something I should ask God for His help. Well, everytime I pitch, it’s really, my friend, God, throwing one of His fastballs!”

Joey may not fully understand it now, but I know that God’s been pitching for him for nine years!

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LOOKING FORWARD---More than forty years later, Joe is an expert groundskeeper. He is happily married to a wonderful woman, Lucy. He still loves sports and his ‘Friend’ is still pitching for him!

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