- November 25, 2024
-
-
Loading
Loading
Tyler Jacques clutches a pair of one-dollar bills between the index and middle fingers of his left hand — his good hand. He’s standing in line, itching for a chance to send his little league coach, Doug Berryhill, plunging kiester-first into the dunk tank at Palm Coast Little League’s closing ceremonies.
Born premature at just 28 weeks, Jacques, 12, suffered from amniotic banding, a condition which caused his left leg to be amputated and stunted the growth of his right hand. He’s had 13 surgeries to release the right hand to its current state; a 14th procedure is coming up in August.
Still, “he doesn’t let anything bother him, he doesn’t go any slower,” said Jen Etsy, Tyler’s mom. “He still pushes.”
The Palm Coast Observer profiled Jacques in 2011, when he was a 9-year-old minors-A player “riding his mini-motorcycle with no hands” and hoping to get a custom-made glove for his right hand and a blade-like sports prosthetic.
He’s since received both, sort of. The blade has worked like a charm, enabling Jacques to score from first-base on a teammate’s extra-base hit during the majors season. A company provided Tyler with a lacrosse net-like glove, too.
“He didn’t like it,” said Greg Smith, Tyler’s stepdad. “If the ball was coming fast, it would bounce right out.”
So, Tyler’s back to throwing with his left hand, then quickly donning a conventional mitt — ala former New York Yankees hurler Jim Abbott. He’s been learning the technique for three years, and he pitched in two games for the IAFF Orange Cobras this spring.
But Tyler doesn’t hesitate when asked his favorite phase of the game.
“It’s hitting,” he says.
With his development at the plate this season, it’s easy to see why. In his team’s last game, a semifinals loss, Tyler nearly cranked a long ball.
“He got up there,” teammate Hayden Clark recalled. “He had two strikes on him, and he was using my bat, actually. It looked like it was going over, but it one-hopped the fence (about 185 feet).”
Tyler’s gapper didn’t surprise Berryhill. When he strung together a few hits early this season, the coach saw his approach to at-bats change due to boosted confidence.
“He didn’t become a little more consistent of a hitter — he became a very consistent hitter this year,” he said. “He started going up to the plate expecting to get a hit instead of hoping to get a walk.”
The season’s also proved a valuable experience for Tyler’s teammates, who discovered younger than most kids that “disability” doesn’t equate to “can’t” or “worse.”
“It made me work harder, because I didn’t think that people with a disability should be able to be play better than I should,” Clark said, “so I had to work harder to keep up.”
With little league coming to a close, Tyler isn’t switching to offseason mode just yet. He left Monday for a weeklong softball camp in Kentucky run by the Wounded Warriors, many amputees themselves. According to the Associated Press, “on Friday, the kids will play a softball game at Louisville Slugger Field. The 13,000-seat stadium is the home of the Louisville Bats, the Cincinnati Reds' Triple-A affiliate.”
But before all that, he had unfinished business at the dunk tank.
When it’s finally Tyler’s turn to throw, he’s around the target with each of his first few tosses. Close misses. Berryhill — suddenly filled with bravado upon his perch — asks Tyler if he’s willing to wager cutting his shaggy, light-brown hair if he can’t hit the target.
Tyler’s practically silent, save for a muted grunt as he slings the softball-sized batting cage balls. Eventually, he’s exhausted all of the tries he paid for. He can’t hide a modicum of disappointment.
“You get one bonus throw,” the high-school aged girl working the booth informs Tyler, handing him one more ball.
Tyler coils up and delivers. Whoosh. Clang. Spring. Splash. Berryhill is drenched, and a plucky little 12-year-old is beaming.
