Stroke strikes, teaches tolerance

My mother never played sports.
Childhood polio denied her the right to run with the other children on Youngstown's North Side during the 1920's.
My only memory of her is walking with crutches or getting around in her wheel chair. I don't ever remember her walking freely, like the other kids' parents.
I never got it before.
Her physical liability prevented her from many sports-related activities but it never stopped her from her maternal duties.
She was simply the best mother in the world even though she couldn't kick a field goal.
Hits home
Then I suffered a stroke in February and it all came together.
After being a patient for nearly three weeks in the Acute Rehab Unit at St. Elizabeth's Medical Center, and spending about 10 days in a wheel chair, it all came full circle.
My mother's constant cheerful attitude, after being robbed of her ability to walk without crutches cutting into her arms, elevated her one step closer to heaven.
Thank heavens for our tolerance of those with special needs.
I now walk unsteady at times and my left arm is far from fully functional, but recovery is under way.
And, I'm one of the lucky ones.
Since my stroke, I have become more sensitive of those who wish to treat me differently and of those who realize we are all unique.
My speech problem is not contagious; just because a woman needs a walker to get around, she doesn't warrant ridicule. One man's handicap is another's reason to worship.
The day I introduced myself to Mahoning Valley Scrappers manager Chris Bando this spring, I told him of the stroke.
Bando's attitude has been nothing short of professional.
My speech makes me unique to him, just like the color of my hair. Nothing more.
No barrier
Bando talks to me like a sports writer doing my job, not as a man with a physical problem.
I wish I had always been as tolerant.
Special fans, or special citizens just want to be treated the same as everybody else. Nothing more.
It's so easy to cheer for Mia Hamm with her effervescent smile or for Cal Ripken, the post-modern ambassador of baseball.
But my heroes now are the fans willing to invest in sports without ever playing the games themselves. Call them the special spectators.
On Tuesday night, Mike Ball, 13, of Niles took in the Mahoning Valley Scrappers game with his aunt and uncle, Jonell and Chad Johnson, and her son, Caleb McCullough, 3.
It was Mike's second Scrappers game this year and fifth in two seasons.
The Scrappers make sure he sits quite close to the playing field, in the front row of the main concourse.
What separated Mike from the rest of the fans is the spina bifida he was born with.
It's a congenital birth defect that may deny him playing baseball but can't take away his pleasure of watching the game. He spends most of his time in a wheel chair.
No distinction
Mike enjoys seeing baseball just like most teen-age boys do. He's a fan first, and a victim of a horrible disease second.
Mike's brother is a junior varsity soccer player at Niles High School. Need a hint who is the biggest fan of the Red Dragons' team?
Mike's a special fan, but one who just wants to be treated like all the rest.
Coach Bando likely doesn't know Mike Ball. But if he did, the skipper wouldn't single him out because of the wheel chair. He'd just thank him for cheering the Scrappers on.
Here's to special fans, like Mike Ball. They have Personal Seat Licenses but their PSLs come with wheels.
XBill Sullivan is a sports writer for The Vindicator. Write to him at sullivan@vindy.com.