Youngest Rookie Inspires Crimson

Cole Arledge takes a miserable cut and strikes out during a Harvard baseball practice. It’s been a long day, and the junior catcher throws his helmet down in disgust before walking off the field. A little up the third-base line, he sees a teammate taking his usual unorthodox swings at a ball in the grass. It’s far from perfect form, and despite his bad day, Arledge smiles. He can’t help it when Alex is around.

Three-year-old Alex Wawrzyniak doesn’t resemble the typical Crimson athlete, but he has certainly proven himself enough to earn a roster spot. While other ballplayers might struggle through evening practice after an exhausting day of class, no one thinks to complain when Alex arrives after his weekly chemotherapy.

Harvard’s honorary teammate suffers from Pilocytic Astrocytoma Low Grade Glioma, a form of cerebral tumor. Alex has gone through nine months of intensive treatment at the Dana Farber Cancer Institute following his diagnosis in April 2009.

“The MRI showed four tumors in his spine, like a cluster of grapes, and cancerous cells within his brain, like frosting on a raisin,” says Alanna Lopez, Alex’s mother.

The cancer is very treatable, and the early intervention has spared Alex unknown hardship. But the tumors did not spare his vision. As the low-grade gliomas crushed his optic nerve, Alex succumbed to a life of blindness before ever stepping on a baseball diamond.

“[Baseball] is one sport that I really wanted him to get into if he was going to do sports,” Lopez says. “So this is it. Because he’s blind, I don’t know if he can [ever play]. If anything, this is the closest to a team he’ll ever be.”

But as it turns out, Alex is much closer to the Harvard team than he or his mom could have ever imagined.

The Crimson met its new teammate through Friends of Jaclyn, a non-profit organization committed to pairing children with brain tumors with collegiate or high school teams. Much like the organization’s namesake, Jaclyn Murphy, drew inspiration from the Northwestern women’s lacrosse team during her battle with cancer, nearly 200 young patients have signed up to be matched with programs around the country.

“Our whole mission is to give kids some kind of normalcy in their life, after whatever hardships they’ve gone through,” explains Brandi Gordon, a Boston program coordinator for FOJ and a Crimson softball coach. “We try to provide them with love, support, and friendship through—in [Alex’s] case—30 guys who can be teammates and brothers. He is a part of their family now.”

The program has proven particularly effective in its outreach. Since Hippocratic laws prevent hospitals from disclosing patient illnesses, FOJ finds potential matches mostly through word of mouth. In Lopez’s case, a friend from chemotherapy facilitated the pairing, and as soon as the organization called, she knew it would be a perfect opportunity for Alex.

“It’s kind of like an escape from all his medical stuff,” Lopez says.

And so Lopez makes the 34-mile drive every week from their home in Marshfield, Mass. and plans to do so for each of Harvard’s home games. After all, she would never deprive the team of one of its integral members.

“It’s been awesome to have him around,” Arledge says. “I think that everyone brings something to the team. Some people bring numbers and home runs, some people bring defense, some people bring leadership in different kinds of ways, and then having Alex as part of the team—he really brings inspiration and perspective.”

While scouts might focus on production more than inspiration, anyone inside the program knows just how valuable Alex’s contribution is.

“Our game is a game of failure,” says Gordon. “A lot of times, you strike out or mess up and focus on that. Now that [the players] have something else to think about, a strikeout or an error [doesn’t] mean as much. It puts into perspective what things are dramatic when really this three-and-a-half year old has gone through more than most people ever will.”

It is not so surprising, then, that after Arledge’s whiff in practice, the sting of the punchout doesn’t last long. Watching Alex take wayward swings with unquenchable enthusiasm and a carefree smile, Arledge knows he is witnessing true perseverance and courage—even if Alex can’t pronounce those words.

“He battles with things every day, but he still has the outlook you would expect a three-year-old to have,” the junior marvels. “I gave so much credit to the [Northwestern] team for being great to the little girl, but what I realized is that the team that gets to help the kid out is the lucky one.”

Certainly the Crimson players know that they have the good end of the deal. When practice ends, the ballplayers return to a world of papers and exams, but so too does Alex return to a harsh reality filled with medical tests and debilitating chemotherapy. Life outside the stadium bubble is not always so carefree.

“It’s been a long [journey],” Lopez admits. “It’s very draining, mentally draining. It just takes a big toll out on you, but it’s brought us closer together.”

The Harvard team recognizes this burden and has wholeheartedly embraced the FOJ mission of providing comfort and showing love. In addition to sending messages to Alex’s CareBridge page—a portal for friends to leave words of support—a number of players have taken to calling their young teammate at home, making him feel like a true member of the Crimson family.

“He likes them all,” Lopez says of the baseball team. “But certain names stick out. He likes [junior pitcher] Zach [Hofeld]. And Cole calls almost every night to say goodnight.”

“I want to be able to brighten up his day, but I also want to talk to him on good days,” Arledge explains.

The junior, it seems, has responded most strongly to Alex’s experience. But Arledge takes no credit for going above and beyond to embrace his newest teammate.

“I think that anybody on the team would do it,” he says. “I don’t think it’s something unique that I’ve done. His mom says [calling] makes him happy, and what do I have to do? The walk from the yard to the quad, that’s 15 minutes right there.”

And in these little ways, the Crimson as a whole has rallied around Alex. Above all, Arledge stresses that the team sees its young friend as a full member of Harvard baseball.

“I’ve heard the word ‘honorary teammate’ thrown around,” Arledge says. “When I think ‘honorary teammate,’ I think Whoopi Goldberg and the Globetrotters—like honoring somebody. People really want to bring him in.”

“He has a locker in the locker room,” Arledge continues. “We taped over a name plate and wrote Alex on it. It’s right in the middle of everything.”

What Arledge doesn’t mention is that the locker is his, gladly sacrificed to give Alex a place among his heroes.

This locker symbolizes much of what Alex has come to mean to the Crimson. Right in the center of the Harvard family, the youngster provides a reminder of the world outside.

“I hope the [team] will get out of it as much as Alex gets out of it,” Lopez says. “[I hope it teaches them] to not sweat the small stuff.”

As the Crimson gains perspective from its new pairing, Alex also grows stronger with the team’s constant support. The chemotherapy will never return his sight, but it will give him a chance at a normal life—Lopez plans to enroll her son in preschool this year, where he will prepare for a full education in Braille.

But first, Alex has his work cut out for him. It’s baseball season, and Harvard needs each athlete to be at his best.

“[He’s] our secret weapon this year,” says Crimson coach Joe Walsh with a smile. “If you see someone walking up there to the plate looking for a walk, it could be Alex.”

Even if he takes three swings and strikes out, he’ll walk back to the dugout with his signature grin. After all, it’s only baseball.

—Staff writer Max N. Brondfield can be reached at mbrondf@fas.harvard.edu.