The Inspiring Islander
Poquoson senior Austin Boyce, who was diagnosed with autism as an infant, was one of the team's biggest (in every sense of the word) motivators in his farewell year. Photo by Jason Norman
A few years ago, the Boyce family got a phone call that most parents would dread.
A special education teacher was ringing to let them know that their son Austin had just grabbed the teacher and tackled him.
"We were horrified!" says his mother Jeannie. "I was saying, 'I'm sorry, I'm so sorry!' That's not in his nature!'"
But the teacher wasn't thinking expulsion, suspension, or even a silent lunch.
"He said, 'No, it's good! I played football in high school and college, and no student's ever been able to do that to me before!'" Jeannie recalls, grinning. Austin's act had been horseplay - and the teacher wanted the student's next tackling model to be on the other side of a Poquoson High line.
The teacher asked if the Boyces were okay with Austin going out for the junior varsity Islander gridiron squad. They had to think about it.
When Austin was about 18 months old, he suddenly stopped talking. He didn't look people in the eye. Eventually, he was diagnosed with autism.
"We got blindsided," says his father J.T. "It was like walking into a little nightmare. All your dreams of normalcy, as a father, you want to think about your son scoring touchdowns and going to the prom and all that, and then you get hit in the face."
The Boyces traveled around the country looking for treatment. Doctors tried rehab and many alternative therapies. Austin took swimming and tap lessons to help his body movement develop. In middle school, he tried out soccer, then got into weightlifting.
"Autistics generally have trouble socially," J.T. says, "and we felt that if we're going to overcome this as much as possible, we need to throw him into the world and take our lumps now, rather than later."
But the ultimate contact sport might have been too big of a jump for Austin, his parents thought.
"With his attention span, we thought he may get hurt," Jeannie says. The coach assured them that he'd look after Austin, and J.T. came aboard as a coach.
Three years later, Austin completed his final year as an Islander - and his second as a varsity nose tackle.
His teammates counted on him to get them going. Stands full of Islander fans ovated like crazy when he steps onto the field. Cheerleaders chanted his name every time he makes a tackle.
"It's worked," J.T. says. "It's the one time where, socially, he belongs. He doesn't get a lot of playing time, which is fine with us, but when he gets in, he doesn't make mistakes. Everyone cheers for him, and most of the time, I'm crying my eyes out."
While much of the Poquoson community keeps its tears on the inside, it's clear that they feel the same.
"He adds a little emotion to the team," says defensive end. "He always likes to get the team fired up. When we're in the huddle, he tries to get us fired up. He's been a real boost to the team."
And they to him, says coach Elliott Duty.
"Other players relate to him well," Duty says. "They protect him, they watch his back, and they look out for him. He's been a delight to have out here."
Perhaps that's because, like far too many athletes of any age, Austin's learned to measure his team worth independent of the stat books, Jeannie says.
"If he gets in for five plays, he's happy. He might say, 'Well, I didn't get in, but a lot of guys didn't get in.'" she says. "The coaches have been wonderful. Some coaches would say, 'I have a team, they have to mold my team, they need to win,' and wouldn't take him."
There's one special player - nicknamed "The Final Stretch," "The Secret Weapon," and other monikers - who's glad they did.
"I live for the games," Austin says. "The games are the real deal. There's real dangers and real challenges. I'm stronger and more powerful than ever. I can feel that energy and power going through my veins. It's like I'm another person."
Then who, pray tell, are all those people on the stands and sidelines asking for when they shout his handle when he heads into the games?
"They cheer my name, "Au-STIN, Au-STIN!'" he exclaims. "It's super-effective. It makes me stronger and more athletic."
The football field's not the only place her son shows his strength, Jeannie says.
"He's written volumes of science fiction," she says. "He saw Lord of the Rings and liked it, so he put it in space. He spells about 75 percent of the words correctly. We've been editing it, and we'd like to get it published."
Austin's already looking forward to his next career - for the most part.
"I'm going to be a famous movie writer someday," he says. "I've already written Spaceballs II. I love anime, so I put anime in Spaceballs II. (If not for writing) I want to be a video game designer and invent a laser."
But while his post-high school schooling hasn't been determined, there's one aspect of graduation he's not optimistic about.
"Very tough," he says of giving up football. "Who's going to help me take care of my muscles?"
