Courage conquers partial paralysis
UP's Tommy Renda figured out how to work around his disability as a youngster

The game already was decided when Tommy Renda came in to pitch the ninth inning for the University of Portland baseball team.

A record Joe Etzel Field crowd had watched Oregon State break open a tight game to grab a 10-1 lead on April 24. The 1,002 fans had seen Oregon State hitters erupt in a eight-run seventh inning.

But they had not seen anything in college baseball like Renda, a left-hander from Hillsborough, Calif.

Renda's right arm is partially paralyzed from the elbow down by effects of cerebral palsy. His right hand remains in a perpetual clench, leaving him unable to manipulate a left-hander's glove. Much like his boyhood hero, former major league pitcher Jim Abbott, Renda fields by switching a right-hander's glove onto his left hand.

During his windup, Renda pins the glove to his chest with his right arm. After he releases the pitch, he slips his left hand into the mitt and is ready to field. Renda, 19, has been doing it since he was 6. Instead of dwelling on his disability, he has overcome it to develop a great athletic talent.

Watching Renda that day at Joe Etzel Field, no one was more impressed than Oregon State coach Pat Casey. Casey's son, Jonathan, was standing beside him in the visitors' dugout as Renda warmed up. The Pilots pitcher fascinated Jonathan, who has been developmentally disabled since birth.

"Dad, that's sad," Jonathan said to his father, who stood riveted by Renda.

"That's not sad," Casey responded, "that's great. He's doing what you do, Jonathan, doing as much as he can. What's sad is when people have more and do less."

Casey rooted for Renda as the freshman retired the side in the ninth without a run. Oregon State's final batter, reserve catcher Erik Ammon, smacked a sharp grounder back at Renda. The pitcher knocked down the ball -- one beat after making the glove transfer -- then threw out Ammon at first.

After the game as players shook hands, the 2006 national championship coach asked the lightly used freshman to sign a baseball.

"I thought it took a lot of courage to do what he does," Casey said. "Since (winning) the College World Series, I've signed so many autographs and I thought I want a real autograph for myself. It moved me, what he did. For me, Tommy Renda is someone I admire."

As a child, Renda never focused on what he couldn't do. As a preschooler, he rebuffed his mother when she wanted to button his shirt or tie his shoes. The boy with the balky right hand learned to perform these tasks himself -- even when it involved bending over to draw a shoelace tight with his teeth.

"This kid never has had a bad day," said his mother, Larree. "He has always been positive and figured everything out all by himself."

Renda also is the first in his family to attend college, though his parents -- who grew up in Des Moines, Iowa -- did just fine without higher education.

Larree Renda started working for Safeway as a teenage grocery bagger. Today, she is executive vice president and chief strategist for the grocery chain. Tommy's father, Frank, was a successful builder before turning full-time to investing about eight years ago.

Larree says Tommy inherited his toughness from his father. Frank says Tommy got his brains from his mother.

"The thing about Tommy is we never paid much attention to his disability," said Frank Renda. "He has always thought of himself as normal."

Larree Renda suspected Tommy had a problem when he was an infant. She had to unclench his right fist when she bathed him and noticed he didn't use his right arm. When he was about 8 months old, magnetic resonance imaging revealed he had a spot on his brain that never developed. Years later, the family learned cerebral palsy caused the arrested development in Tommy's right arm.

The boy loved sports, though, and refused to let the impairment derail his athletic dreams. At 6, his parents gave him a traditional black Rawlings left-hander's glove. Because Tommy couldn't handle the glove with his right hand, he taught himself how to field with a right-hander's mitt and make the glove switch instead.

In Little League, he played shortstop and catcher in addition to pitching. He was a speedy tailback on the football team until he dropped the sport to concentrate on baseball. In basketball, he was an effective guard, though everybody in the gym knew he was always going to the left.

When he pitched, his mother worried about his safety.

"When he first started, I would stress out over how is he going to do this," Larree Renda said.

But the little left-hander always found a way.

"It was all I could do so I just figured it out," Renda said. "I can't remember it preventing me from being as good as anyone else."

When he played catcher, Renda would fumble his glove exchange and drop the ball while warming up the pitcher. It was a ruse to bait the other team into trying to steal.

"I had gotten really fast with the glove switch," he said. "Then when they would run, I would throw them out."

Sometimes after watching him warm up, opposing batters would bunt, figuring Renda wouldn't be able to handle the play.

"Those ended up being the easiest outs of the game," he said.

University of Portland coach Chris Sperry first heard about Renda through former athletic director Joe Etzel's sons, who work for a company that helps stage the Safeway Classic, the LPGA tournament held annually in Portland.

Sperry talked to Renda's high school coach at San Francisco St. Ignatius, who believed Renda had the ability to fulfill a dream of playing NCAA Division I baseball. A good student, Renda came to the University of Portland as an invited walk-on.

"The first week all eyes were on him," Sperry said. "But when you spend all day around him, you lose sight of his physical situation. It's just Tommy. . . . There is a real admiration on the team for what he does and what he brings to the field."

Renda also brings a great sense of humor and self deprecation. He will yell to a teammate, "Come on, use two hands on that ground ball!" His teammates call him Bandit, as in one-arm Bandit. They marvel at his abilities and what he has overcome.

"You'd think that might stop somebody," said senior pitcher Sean Sargent. "But Tommy is good at a lot of things. He is a special guy."

At the Pilots' first practice, senior Justin Ehlers thought his new teammate had a broken arm. Ehlers quickly learned, however, there is nothing broken about Tommy Renda.

"He can actually hit and play golf, too," said Ehlers. "He can hit the ball pretty much as hard as anybody else."

"And he can hit the golf ball 240 (yards)," Sargent added, "even though it is mostly a one-handed swing."

Renda sat out last baseball season as a redshirt after undergoing major shoulder surgery, and he has not pitched many innings as he builds himself back up after the operation on his labrum and rotator cuff.

On the mound, Renda is a finesse lefty with a curve and a changeup. Sperry sees him as a situational left-hander who will throw between 83-85 mph out of the bullpen. For his part, Renda said, "I see myself as a regular ballplayer trying to do as well as everyone else."

Abbott has long provided an example. Abbott, who was born without a right hand, pitched 10 years in the big leagues for four teams and threw a no-hitter against Cleveland on Sept. 4, 1993, while a member of the New York Yankees.

When Renda was about 10, a family friend arranged for him to meet Abbott at the Oakland Coliseum when Abbott's team, the Angels, were in town to play the Athletics. Abbott brought Renda to the clubhouse and took the boy onto the field. The two played catch and compared their glove transfers.

Before Renda left, Abbott spoke words that resonated with the boy. "Just remember to work hard and that there is nothing you can't do."

Tommy Renda has spent the years since proving just that.