The year was 1974, and Mike Krysiuk was a high school senior who had finally hit his stride. He loved baseball, being in a band with his buddies, and cruising around in his Chevy Chevelle blasting tunes on his 8-track. That spring Mike was finally popular-part of the "in" crowd-the cool jocks who cut classes, got away with it, and always dated the pretty girls. He even made the varsity baseball team but spent the season getting splinters on the bench. When the coach finally called Mike in to relieve the star pitcher, a scout from the Mets who had come to observe the starter got to see Mike close the game with his famous sinker and turn a blowout into a one-run loss for the Wreckers. Suddenly, the major leagues were more than just a dream.

After the game, Mike was elated, and despite his parents wanting him home right away to catch up on the homework he'd been skipping, he decided to go out with his new friends to celebrate. The boys planned a short drive across the border into New York where they could buy some beer at a liquor store. Mike got the seat of honor, riding in the tiny Triumph GT6 belonging to Ted, a James Dean type and the cool crowd's cocky ringleader. They sped away with Mike's six-foot-four frame crammed into the passenger seat—a decision that would change his life forever.

The rest of the story is a family saga of determination, teamwork, and resolute optimism. Mike's remarkable journey reminds us that in a life-threatening crisis the love of parents, siblings, relatives, and friends is invaluable—and likely the key difference between premature death and a new lease on life. Miracles really can happen when you shoot for the sun.