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January 12, 2010 05:59:37
Posted By gregwagner
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My ability to play baseball was never about the possible fame or the notoriety that our society places on sports, and pop culture in general. Yes, being able to play baseball would have given me a high quality life, and playing baseball for as long as I did gave me just that.
The strides and gains I have made since finding baseball have been exponential. Growing up, I always believed that my disability dictated the life I live because I hadn’t known any other way. All I had known was how my disability held me back. I could not keep up with my friends and my peers were always above me. That’s how I felt, but baseball showed me how strong I am and how strong I can be.
I am one of the 5 strongest people in my gym. I max out machines and am nearly able to do so with my stroke-effected right arm, as well. I did that the same way that I prepared for my marathon. Running 26.2 miles simply meant putting one foot in front of the other. I started by running a quarter-mile, but one step at a time that quarter-mile grew to 5 miles, which suddenly turned into my being able to run a full marathon in record setting time. I never dreamed that my right side could match the strength of my left, or that I would be able to leg press 1170 pounds…but I can. I got there one brick at a time.
My quality of life did not stop with my ability to play baseball. In fact, my ability to play baseball opened my eyes to my full ability and potential. Realizing that is when I realized I needed to write a book.
I wanted people to realize how my life motivated me and why I live as I do. People deserve to understand that a disability, or any setback in life, is simply an obstacle to be overcome. It’s a barrier that separates those who dream of something from those who truly deserve it. You deserve it because you strive for it. Your confidence drives you towards something and it’s following through on that passion and never giving up on it is how each of us earns what we are striving for. It validates our desire, and any desire that burns deep enough will mold a dream into reality.
That is ultimately what I have learned in living with and overcoming my disability, but there are so many lessons that have marked the life I have been able to live. That is what I wanted to share in my book. My life is uncharted because as long as I have confidence in myself, there is no limit to how far I can reach.
This is my journey though that I have experienced through my disability. Each of us has limitations that we must account for, but they are individual. That is why I say that my disability is no less debilitating than someone with seasonal allergies. It’s an individual battle. Both of us operate and thrive just fine, but if we were to switch bodies I guarantee each of us would be paralyzed by the sensations and limitations that another individual has to overcome daily, instinctively.
That’s a real reason why I love the book that I have written. My disability is an individual sensation, which I constantly describe and explain using terms and experiences that everyone who does not live with my disability experiences daily. Even though you may have no idea what a brain aneurysm feels like, you know exactly how I feel because I have related the sensations with experiences you instinctively, and repeatedly, know.
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January 11, 2010 10:32:59
Posted By gregwagner
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I started playing baseball when I was 9. At the time, Jim Abbott was pitching for the NY Yankees. He pitched without a right hand. I couldn’t use my right hand, so I figured if he could do it, why can't I? I taught myself how to catch and throw with my left hand, and I taught myself how to field too. After catching the ball, I'd toss it out of my glove in the air, drop my glove to the ground, catch the ball with my bare left hand, plant my foot and throw to the base. Sure, I was disabled, but I could do everything that a pitcher is required to do to perform his job. So, can you really say that I was disabled?
I didn’t. My teammates didn’t, but every coach I encountered did. Without outside support at some point across your life, it is very difficult for a dream to become reality. I started playing ball because it was the one activity I could do that put me on an equal playing field with my peers. When I realized how dominant of a pitcher I was, my entire life revolved around baseball. It was the one part of my life where I felt equal to everyone else. Baseball empowered me, which is exactly why I dreamed of playing in the MLB since I was 9.
I relied on myself to make this dream happen. When coach after coach wouldn’t play me because they felt I couldn’t “keep up in the program” or “didn’t have the experience” I needed to be able to play instead of helping me cultivate the talent I had for the one sport I could actually play, I made the personal decision to stop trying to play organized baseball, but I was still determined to see my dream of playing in the MLB through until the end…and that is exactly what I did.
The only coach who believed in me across my life has been my Dad. When I was 12, he built a mound in my backyard and I pitched after school 3 days a week until I left baseball when I was 22.
I quit my college team when I was 20 because I was the only player the coach wouldn’t play. At the time I was overweight. I have been overweight my whole life due to the physical limitations caused from my disability. I started running a year or so later. A quarter mile quickly progressed to a mile, and before I knew it I was running 5 miles a day and trimming down very nicely in the process.
Realizing my physical improvements, I began filming my pitching sessions with my Dad. I compiled segments from these sessions and created a DVD that I sent to all 30 MLB teams. The DVD showed bits from all my pitching sessions to show how I transformed as I lost weight.
No coach ever believed in me, but I always believed in myself. I handwrote letters to all the scouting directors and attached my DVD with the letter. No one was going to help me, so it was my responsibility to see my dream through until the end.
Two days after sending out my DVD, I heard from the Milwaukee Brewers, and from 4 teams in total who wanted to scout me that coming summer. I did everything I could to find a team to play on that summer, but guess what happened when I found a team?
They wouldn’t play me. I had to tell the scouts I wasn’t ready…POOF—dream gone! At least that is what you think. Truth is I smile at what I accomplished because no one believed I could do it. It’s not that I got attention from Major League scouts, it’s that I did not give up on my dream and I discovered the determination that has marked how I live every day. I discovered how to live and what I live for.
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Categories:
aneurysm,
surgery,
marathon,
running,
survivor,
determination,
greg wagner,
motivation,
baseball,
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moving forward,
Jim Abbott,
disabled,
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Children's Hospital,
dream
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