When Hope Wears a Uniform: A First Pitch to Remember
Out on the mound stood Lewis Anderson, a young boy from Tarboro who has already faced more than most people do in a lifetime. Lewis had recently received the incredible news that he is officially cancer-free. After a long and painful battle, including the loss of one of his legs, he had reached a milestone worth celebrating. And what better way to do that than with the game he loves, in the town he calls home?
Baseball has always been part of Lewis’s world. The River Bandits play just minutes from where he lives, and when the front office learned of Lewis’s recovery, they knew they had to do something special. They invited him to throw out the ceremonial first pitch, a simple gesture on the surface, but one filled with weight, meaning, and hope.
Waiting behind the plate to catch that pitch was someone who didn’t need to hear Lewis’s story to understand it, because he had lived it, too.
Parker Byrd, a collegiate athlete and the first amputee to play NCAA baseball, knows the pain of losing a leg. He knows what it’s like to battle through surgeries, setbacks, and the fear of a future that suddenly looks very different. But he also knows what it means to fight back, to reclaim the game you love, and to use your platform to inspire others.
After the pitch, Parker called it a “full circle moment”—one that hit close to home. “I see myself in him. I can relate to him,” he shared.
For Parker, baseball has always been central to his identity. “Baseball was a lifestyle before my accident. I was consumed by it. There wasn’t much life outside of the game,” he reflected. “But after the accident, it became a vision for me to get back out there. It gave me hope and inspiration and perspective. Being an NCAA athlete now is incredible. Playing for ECU has always been my dream. It’s a gift now.”
That shift in perspective is part of what made the moment with Lewis so meaningful. “It was really cool,” Parker said. “I think that with my story, moments like that are what it’s all about. I’m doing something cool personally, but it’s not for myself. Getting to connect with kids like Lewis, that’s the purpose.”
Parker also shared the verse he turns to when times get tough: Jeremiah 29:11 — “‘For I know the plans I have for you,’ declares the Lord, ‘plans to prosper you and not to harm you, plans to give you hope and a future.’” He encourages anyone walking through pain or uncertainty to hold tight to those words. They were a source of strength in his darkest days—and they continue to guide him as he inspires others through his journey.
In that moment—Lewis on the mound, Parker behind the plate—the entire stadium held its breath. It wasn’t just a pitch. It was a passing of strength from one fighter to another. It was a moment that transcended age, ability, and circumstance.
“It was emotional. Heartwarming,” said the River Bandits’ General Manager. “Lewis is such a huge baseball fan, and the fact that this happened in his own backyard just made it that much more special. It wasn’t just about him overcoming cancer—it was about showing him that he’s not alone.”
The message of the night was clear: never give up, always keep fighting, and God over fear. Those words—God over Fear—resonated across the field and into the stands, a motto that both Lewis and Parker have embodied in their own ways.
For the players, coaches, and fans, the game that followed felt different. Wins and losses suddenly felt smaller. In their place stood something bigger: gratitude, perspective, and the undeniable bond between two young men who refused to let their circumstances define them.
That night in Tarboro, baseball gave us more than just entertainment. It gave us a glimpse of courage in its purest form. It reminded us that while the game may be played on dirt and grass, its true power lies in the hearts of the people who play it—and in the moments that bring a community together to celebrate something far greater than baseball.