Doctors told Anthony Bagliano's parents at birth he would have to do virtually everything with his feet. That prediction serves as a driving force in his life 17 years later.
![bagliano-sideline-portrait-bb.jpg]()
Photo courtesy Barry Booher"I've got this mind-set that I'm going to work hard in everything I do," says Eastlake North High School senior Anthony Bagliano. "I'm going to be perfect in everything I do, and that you have to be independent in everything you do." CLEVELAND, Ohio -- Doctors told Anthony Bagliano's parents at birth he would have to do virtually everything with his feet.
That prediction serves as a driving force in his life 17 years later.
The fact that he does one thing so well with his feet now -- place-kicking for Eastlake North High School's football team -- belies a life and promising future he has built despite arms and hands so underdeveloped he bends over just to scratch his belly.
Born with a condition that has forced him to think outside the box in so many ways, Bagliano turns the perception of disabilities upside down.
"I kind of feel you should make your disadvantages your advantages," he said. "You show the world, I may be different, but I do everything.
"If I can accomplish my goals instead of just laying around and giving up, it shows normal people -- well, we're all normal people -- but I mean people without limitations, that they can reach their goals, too."
So, there it is. The high school senior has figured out that, though he does not consider himself unusual, he can turn his rare condition into an asset to help others, and perhaps, himself.
Bagliano was born with Holt-Oram Syndrome, also known as heart-hand syndrome, which affects upper limbs and the heart at birth. His right arm is less than a foot long and is missing bones and muscle tissue, and his hand has four fingers. His left hand has three digits and is close to the shoulder.
He had four heart surgeries before age 2, including an open-heart procedure to partially close a large hole in his heart. He suffers from first-degree heart block, which affects his heart's rhythm, and while he is not limited now, might one day need a pacemaker.
Doctors suggested to Bagliano's parents he be fitted for a prosthetic arm. He tried a heavy, awkward robotic arm for a while, but tossed it aside when he reached middle school. His parents weren't surprised. Bagliano's father, Henry Bagliano, and mother, Vicki Albert, have fostered in Anthony a sense that there's nothing he can't do on his own.
"My parents never treated me different and didn't baby me, and football developed that even more," Anthony said. "I've got this mind-set that I'm going to work hard in everything I do, I'm going to be perfect in everything I do, and that you have to be independent in everything you do."
Bagliano has developed ingenious ways to perform tasks, from putting on his helmet and socks, to teeing up the football. He excels at the teenage trio of driving, texting and video games. His maroon Galant is fitted with a special steering wheel knob and turn-signal extender. He routinely beats his friends playing "Madden 12" on Xbox -- with his feet.
Bagliano's story recently attracted the experienced eye of Mentor screenwriter and documentary film producer Tony Marinozzi. The North graduate is filming a documentary this fall about Bagliano he hopes will help the youngster win an ESPY Award for Best Male Athlete with a Disability, and the High School Football Rudy, an award given to inspirational players.
"That would be awesome to win those awards, to have other people inspired by me," Bagliano said.
![Gallery preview]()
Marinozzi previously has worked with ESPY winners Kyle Maynard, a former Georgia high school wrestler who has virtually no arms and legs, and Bobby Martin, who does not have legs and played football at Dayton Colonel White High School and spent one season with the Cleveland Vikings semipro team in 2007.
Martin is working on a book with Marinozzi and visited Bagliano two weeks ago, attending practices and a game. He gets around with the help of a skateboard.
"I was just shocked," Bagliano said. "I feel inspired and it's made me work even harder. It really touched my life."
Marinozzi also is helping Bagliano begin a charity -- Kicking for the Cure -- to fund cancer research because Anthony's father and the mother of a teammate both are battling cancer. He is starting small, selling orange shoelaces as a fundraiser.
It wasn't until after some scrutinizing and research by Albert that Vicki Albert allowed Marinozzi to film and work with her son.
"[Marinozzi] actually seems to be very good for Anthony," she said. "He's always praising him and is such a positive person."
Marinozzi is a fast-talking, high-energy motivator who is turning disadvantaged athletes into a cottage industry, developing films, books and other media to promote the athletes. Maynard appeared on "Oprah," wrote a best-selling memoir and lent his name to a fitness company. He and Martin also are paid public speakers. Bagliano, who is well-spoken and thoughtful, could have a future there, as well.
"Those guys have all said, 'What are your options?' The goal they set for themselves, even Anthony, is to be independent. They see taking the cards they are dealt and turning it into a little bit of an advantage," Marinozzi said.
For now, Bagliano is focused on kicking for the 6-2 Rangers after achieving the goal he set in eighth grade to be a varsity kicker. He has made 27 of 36 extra-point attempts this season, including a 6-for-6 performance against Lakeside and an 8-of-9 game against Midpark. He recently threw a key block that resulted in a two-point conversion.
Bagliano does not have the range to kick off and does not kick field goals, though he made a 34-yarder last year on the junior varsity.
Which brings us back to the irony of the original statement of Bagliano's doctors. Bagliano found something he does well with his feet, but even that usually requires arms -- normally an essential part of balance, momentum and follow-through for kickers.
As with most every other task, Bagliano developed a unique and effective style. He leans forward three steps behind the holder -- most kickers take two steps -- and is quick to the ball. The top of his foot cups the ball and he powers through with good lift. It is a combination of soccer style and traditional, straight-on kicking.
"Anthony is a good kicker," said University School's Harry Reu, who is one of the area's top kickers. "I couldn't imagine kicking without arms. I use my arms a lot for balance and strength. It's incredible he can do it. Even after he kicks, he balances on his legs and does a bounce and catches himself and I don't know how he does that."
After games, in line to shake hands with opposing players, Bagliano bends over to meet the lowered hands of opponents. A few look back at him, and others pause and add a pat on the helmet and say, "great game." Then he gathers his practice footballs and gear in a bag and carries the heavy load with right hand, the bag dangling just below his shoulder as he walks off the field.
"I don't think my arms are something I'm missing," he said. "I adjust to the situation. I don't think it separates me from being as good as other people."
On Twitter: @TimsTakePD
Jimmie Johnson at the Charlotte Motor Speedway on Friday. Johnson was in an accident on Saturday night at the speedway, as his car hit head-first into the wall. Johnson walked away and suffered only next-day soreness.
