The fans scattered throughout the Massaponax High School bleachers on a drizzly Friday night in early November had no way to know what they were watching.
In the waning moments of a middle school football playoff game, Chancellor Middle coach Linwood Tucker turned to his sideline and shouted, “Where are my fifth-quarter guys at?”
One of them was No. 52 Easton Ellia. Ellia’s time on the field is generally limited to the “fifth quarter,” a brief undercard during which seventh graders — many of them playing tackle football for the first time — run a few plays prior to kickoff of the real game.
But with time ticking down on the Mustangs’ season, Ellia jogged out to the defensive huddle before lining up at nose tackle.
To most, the ensuing play — the final one in a blowout — looked something like this: at the snap, Ellia dug in to fend off a double team of blockers. He held his own initially but quickly found himself on his heels and got driven off the line of scrimmage with his right arm pinned down at his side.
It’s not easy to tell that Ellia can’t always get that arm into the sleeve of his jersey without assistance, or that the laces on his slick black Nike cleats are mostly for show, since they’re fastened almost exclusively with Velcro.
That’s because Ellia, who was born with a mild form of cerebral palsy, isn’t looking for sympathy.
“First impression, to be totally honest with you… hmm,” Tucker hedged. “Because this is a very physical sport, so I had my apprehensions about him being hurt and not being able to fall and catch himself.”
Easton Ellia listens to Chancellor Middle football coach Linwood Tucker talk to the team following their playoff game on Nov. 8 at Massaponax High School. (Photos by Joey LoMonaco)
Miranda Ellia and her husband Eric were similarly hesitant when Ethan asked to play middle school football after three years of participating in flag football at the Fredericksburg Field House. Ellia’s form of cerebral palsy is mild, marked mainly by decreased muscle tone on his right side. One of his legs is also slightly shorter than the other.
“And I just told him and my husband, you know, like, what’s the worst that could happen?” Miranda Ellia said. “If he makes the team, he makes the team.”
Easton Ellia not only made the team, but he took part fully in practice and embraced even those drills made exponentially more difficult by his disability.
“We were out throwing passes, and I knew he probably couldn’t get his hands up, but he insisted on getting out there in that line,” Tucker said. “He actually caught a pass with one arm.
“He didn’t ask for anything special, and we didn’t give him anything special, either. To be honest with you, the type of kid he is, he’s smart enough to sense that you’re taking it soft on him.”
At times, Ellia’s insistence on being treated like any other player bordered on stubbornness.
“He insisted on being a center,” Tucker recalled. “I used him as a guard, but he wanted to hike the ball. I think he used his other hand — his good hand.”
The lack of on-field accommodations doesn’t mean that Ellia refuses assistance when necessary. From the start of the season, his teammates were aware of his disability and didn’t need to be asked to help him put his pads on or fasten his helmet.
“He needed help getting stuff done, so we just pitched in and helped,” fellow Chancellor 7th grader Chase Dodson said.
Easton Ellia (52) stands on the sideline with his Chancellor Middle teammates.
Despite the fact that Ellia didn’t receive much playing time this season, Miranda Ellia still found herself holding her breath whenever he left the sideline. She noted that her husband Eric blew his knee out playing high school football.
“I think I’d be nervous regardless if he had a disability,” she said with a laugh. “But because he does, I just am really nervous that something’s going to happen. But I love seeing him out there.”
She also loves the fact that her son stuck out the balance of the season despite some early frustrations and that his teammates are constantly spamming him with Xbox invites.
“Making new friends and building a brotherhood at my school,” Easton Ellia said of the highlight of his first season. “I learned how to be tougher.”
Shortly before the playoff game against Battlefield Middle, Tucker informed Ellia that he’d been selected as one of the Mustangs’ four ceremonial team captains. Flanked by a teammate on both sides — arms locked — Ellia cut an unmistakable figure as he walked out to midfield for the pregame coin toss.
He looked like a football player.
