They’re Fielding New Challenges

For most of the Little League players on this field, just learning to distinguish first base from third will earn them a round of smiles and cheers from the stands.

In the Challenger division of Little League, where kids with physical and mental disabilities learn the basics of the American pastime, the spirit of the game really is more important than winning.

“Challenger was never meant to be competitive,” said Rhonda Van Ekelenburg, the administrator for Challenger Division’s District 62, which meets each Saturday on former Ocean View School District playing fields now operated by Little League.

Van Ekelenburg and her daughter Erica, who was born with Down’s syndrome, joined the division about six years ago, just one year after it was founded.

“When they first start, they don’t even know the bases, they’ll hit the ball and run to third base,” said Van Ekelenburg. “Then, in senior league, they’re hitting home runs. It’s a big deal for these kids to come out here and put a uniform on. It’s great to see them have this opportunity to do Little League.”

The Ocean View Challengers started with about 20 kids who were brought together by a special education teacher. It has grown to include more than 75 children, ages 5 to 21, and recently received an official charter from Little League headquarters in Williamsport, Penn.

The Ocean View team includes players from Costa Mesa, Huntington Beach, Fountain Valley, Westminster and Midway City, Van Ekelenburg said. There are also Challenger teams in Santa Ana, Garden Grove, Irvine and Laguna Niguel, she said.

Lance Van Auken, spokesman for the national organization, said Williamsport officials have sponsored the special divisions since 1989, when advocates started requesting programs for their disabled children. The players follow most of the league’s regulations, but there is no World Series for the divisions because of the noncompetitive nature of the games. Scores are only kept for the most senior teams.

The league now has 790 such divisions that play nationwide and give 22,000 disabled children the chance to learn baseball, Van Auken said.

While able-bodied players concentrate on strategy and speed, the Challenger teams find success on more basic levels. Some children play from wheelchairs or walkers; others have mental development problems. One team has a blind player.

“The biggest thing with these kids is understanding processes,” said Bill Turner, a coach and manager. “There are so many processes to throwing a ball. I have to break it down into real small steps. . . . It’s interesting because by the end of the season they really get to know the ball. Then, the next year, there is always a lot of retraining, but there is always a little progress.”

Turner and the other managers allow each child to play a position, even if that means the pitcher is in a wheelchair and can barely heft a ball. “It gives them the experience of being a pitcher,” he said. “The biggest thing with this league is win, win, win, all across the board.”

Players are not the only participants to leave the games with the glow of achievement. Parents, who are required to be at every game in case of problems, find friends within the often isolated culture of families with disabled children.

And the 100 teenage volunteers recruited from nearby high schools to escort each child around the diamond find they get more from this public service than they expected.

“We’re their friends for the day,” said Karen Morice, a 16-year-old volunteer wearing the turquoise T-shirt that designates her as a coach. “The kids are really enthusiastic and they tell us about themselves. This is one of my favorite projects.”

Many of the parents said they used to feel guilty because of the time they devoted to their other, able-bodied children’s ballgames. Going to the Challenger games means giving all their children equal time, they said.

Don Simpson, a Fountain Valley parent whose 9-year-old has a chronic seizure disorder, is relieved to have found a social outlet for his son. “It’s good for him to be around other kids,” he said. “He doesn’t have many friends.”

The noncompetitive nature of the Challenger games means the kids get to have the same exercise as their able-bodied counterparts, but no one goes home in tears.

“Whether they hit the ball or not, they get to run the bases and they get cheered,” said parent Teri Lopez, who brings her 7-year-old daughter Danielle to play. “It’s the spirit of the game without the stress. It makes them feel like they are in the mainstream of life. You want to keep their lives as normal and productive as possible.”