COLUMN: League has offered ‘miracle’ of  joy, opportunity

There might never have been a “miracle” if Alex Morton had not asked his father why he couldn’t play baseball like all of his friends.

He was 7 years old. Alex wanted to wear No. 10 and thump his glove at third base like his hero, Chipper Jones.

But Alex was in a wheelchair. He was born with spina bifida, a birth defect in which the spine fails to close properly.

Dan Morton had no idea what to do to make that happen. But he promised his son they would find him a home plate. Somewhere. Somehow.

And they did. Every Saturday spring morning for two years, the Morton family made the 140-mile round trip past dairy farms and piney woods to Conyers, the birthplace of the Miracle League. The field there was dedicated 25 years ago this month, and appropriately named the “Field of Dreams.’’

In the Miracle League, every child on the field is disabled.

These young people face physical and mental challenges every day, not just at a baseball game. The weight they carry through life is heavier than any bat in their bat bags.

Some were born with Down syndrome, cerebral palsy or muscular dystrophy. Others are autistic, have learning disorders and visual or hearing impairments. Some were born without arms or with no movement in their legs. 

Every time Dan and Ginger Morton returned home with Alex, they refused to hit the brakes on their dream to bring such a program to Macon. They knew there were hundreds of special needs children in the area who would love the opportunity to have a league of their own.

The community rallied behind their efforts and, 20 years this spring, the Miracle League of Macon threw out its first pitch at its new home at West Macon Park. After playing on an existing T-ball field for three years, league officials were able to dedicate an accessible ballpark with an artificial playing surface and dugout mobility.

Boys and girls ages 5-19 were no longer on the outfield fence looking in.

Kids just want to play baseball.

And many of them still want to keep playing ball … even when they are no longer kids.

Alex will be 30 in October. And his buddy, Ben Marsh, turned 35 last month. Not long after their eligibility expired, a “competitive” league, where the score is kept and outs are recorded, was created for the older players who don’t want their “careers” to end.

Ben, who has cerebral palsy, plays for the Dodgers. Alex is, of course, on the roster for the Braves. They are leaders in the dugout for the only two teams in this “old-timers” division. They play each other every Saturday –  a whopping nine times during the season. This past Saturday morning, the Dodgers held on for a 20-19 victory. You would have thought they had won the World Series.

Ben and Alex are the only remaining players from the Miracle League’s opening day rosters of 20 years ago. So you might say they are likely first-ballot Hall-of-Famers.

Alex graduated from Tattnall Square Academy and Middle Georgia State University. He does production work for local radio sports personality Bill Shanks and is a statistician for Mercer’s baseball team.

He still plays third base and wears Chipper’s No. 10. Until this season, his walk-up music was the Ozzy Osbourne song “Crazy Train,’’ just like Chipper’s, although this year he switched to “Just Gettin’ Started” by Macon’s own Jason Aldean.

In 2009, Diane Alford, executive director of the Miracle League, arranged for Alex to meet Chipper before a home game at Turner Field. Alex will never forget meeting his idol, who played for the Class Macon Braves in 1991, his first full season in the minor leagues.

Chipper may be Alex’s hero, but Alex is one of mine. And so is Ben, who has been a “miracle” his entire life. 

That same year Alex got to meet Chipper, Ben was 19 and a junior at Rutland High School. He became the first player in Miracle League history to hit a home run over the fence. 

Today marks the 16th anniversary of that legendary round-tripper. It was a tape-measure (150 feet) shot to left-center field. (Ben does not embellish the story, although legend has it clearing the bridge over Interstate 475 and is probably still rolling down Thomaston Road.)

Ben was born on March 11, 1990, just a few weeks before the opening day of baseball season, but long before he should have been on any lineup card. 

He arrived three months premature and weighed 1 pound, 8 ounces.  He spent 20 weeks in the neonatal intensive care unit. When he left the hospital, the headline on the front page of the local newspaper called him a “Miracle Baby.’’

When Alex and Ben aren’t on the playing field, they are in the press box behind home plate, announcing the game over the P.A. system. It is their way of giving back to the league that has meant so much to them. 

They both have aspirations to become broadcasters. And they know there is nothing more thrilling for the players than to hear “walk-up music” and the sweet sound of their names crackling over the speakers. It makes them feel special.

They grew up hearing their names at the ballpark. And they’re still hearing it after all these years.

Alex said he wants to play for another 10 years as long as he and the others are able.

“It gets tough with some of our physical conditions,’’ he said. “But we do the best with what we’ve got and go from there. I wouldn’t trade my experiences I’ve had out here for anything in the world.’’

Dan has never referred to Miracle League players as having “special needs.’’ He calls it “special abilities.’’

Alex said his father has talked to him about possibly taking over and being in charge of the league when his playing days are over.

It would be fitting for the young man who asked the question that got it all started to keep providing the answer so others can play, too.

Ed Grisamore has made an effort to spend at least one joyful Saturday morning at the Miracle League park every baseball season for the past 20 years.