Play of the day

Nearly five years ago, doctors told Sam’s parents that if he survived, he would be immobile and unresponsive—a vegetable. Then only 3 years old, Sam Seidel had fallen into the family swimming pool. His father Dan had been cleaning it out that March day, a process that had kicked up a lot of dark green debris. The young boy silently slipped into the murk and was underwater for several minutes before his lifeless body was found and recovered. Two doctors from across the street helped try to revive Sam before he was rushed to Our Lady of the Lake.

“I literally threw up in the grass,” says Dan Siedel. “He was on life support for seven and a half weeks.”

After the accident, Dan left his job at Chase, and he now works from home as a financial advisor so he can spend more time with Sam, his wife and two other children. Now 7, Sam cannot run or throw or slide into home, but thanks to the Miracle League at Cypress Mounds, he plays ball every Sunday in season—and he always wins.

These games are a little different from ordinary baseball. On a turf field at the back of a complex that resembles a state-of-the-art minor league ballpark, the young players take the field in wheelchairs and walkers. Volunteer buddies help them at the plate and around the bases. Everyone gets a hit. Everyone is safe.

“I’ve seen parents whose kids are playing on other fields walk over and watch the Miracle League game instead of their own children,” says Seidel. “That’s how powerful it is, giving these kids an opportunity to do something they wouldn’t normally get to do.”

During his first at-bat in early September, Sam Seidel’s white knuckles gripped his weapon tight. His buddy, Mary Shortess, held the bat too, and together they swung away. With his neck craned involuntarily toward the backstop, Sam could not even see the pitch, but when the bat struck the ball, he heard a sharp, familiar cracking sound. His eyes bloomed wide and a massive grin exploded across his face as he felt the impact—the thrill of success.

After rounding the bases, Sam rolled over home plate. Marty patted his shoulders, and Sam raised his skinny fist ever so slightly in the air, a little home run king.

Dan Seidel is so thrilled with Sam’s Miracle League experience that he has been inspired to organize a special-needs basketball league using the indoor court at Istrouma Baptist Church. Through Skip Bertman, a Miracle League supporter, Seidel hopes to reach Shaquille O’Neal and Dale Brown for help.

“I’m 5’8”, never played basketball in my life—I suck at basketball,” Seidel says. “But I want to continue to help impact these families.”

Children with special needs are not the only ones benefiting from the Miracle League, former nurse Brandi Polito’s ambitious and longtime vision that launched last May after years of development and fundraising. The volunteers’ lives are changed, too.

“It’s amazing to watch how the players and buddies interact and learn to work together,” says league director Jeanne-Marie Savoy. “Over time it becomes this fluid motion.”

Last year, Mik Aidt started as a volunteer at Cypress Mounds to earn a Boy Scouts badge. That was before he met his player—before they connected.

It’s not about the badge anymore.

At a game early in the fall season, as Aidt and Owen Dias were just getting acquainted, Dias levied a mighty chop and knocked a foul ball far down the left field line. He stumbled to the ground from the force of the swing. Without hesitation, Aidt helped Dias up from the turf then held the boy by his sides for the next pitch. Steadied by Aidt, Dias nailed a ground ball right up the middle.

What a team.

Mik’s brother Jasen, who also volunteers, has a mild form of cerebral palsy, so Mik has been around someone with developmental challenges all of his life.

“My boys have all grown and learned that no matter what disability a kid has, they still want the same things,” says Mik’s mother Tammi. “They all want to be active and have fun.”

After the game, Aidt congratulates Dias again, and as players and proud parents reunite behind the bleachers, the 13-year-old lingers on the field. He isn’t in a hurry to get home, and he doesn’t have anything else on his mind. He is still in the game. There are a lot of things Aidt’s friends are doing on Sunday afternoons while he volunteers, but the Prairieville Middle School student doesn’t miss any of that.

“This is actually a lot more fun than playing video games,” Aidt says matter-of-factly. “This is about teaching the spirit of baseball. It’s about helping out.”

The Miracle League’s spring season begins in April. For more information, visit miracleleaguecm.org.