June 17, 2005

By Kevin T. Czerwinski / MLB.com

Andy Shipman lost an eye in a tragic accident as an infant. Though the incident affected his sight, it never cost him his vision.

So, as the West Tenn right-hander navigates his way through his third year of pro ball, he does so with a singular goal in mind -- reaching the Major Leagues. And nothing, not even pitching with one eye, will deter him from fulfilling his dream. That's because with Andy Shipman, believing isn't always about seeing.

Shipman, 24, is currently serving as a setup man for the Diamond Jaxx, the Double-A Southern League affiliate of the Chicago Cubs. He's got a 2.67 ERA through 25 appearances this season and while that number may not cause anyone to stop and take notice, it becomes downright remarkable when you consider that Shipman is pitching without a left eye.

"That's the thing that's hard to explain to everyone," Shipman said. "It's easy for them to be amazed. People ask how do you do what you do or play baseball. But for me, it happened when I was 1 and a half. I don't know what it's like to have two eyes. Growing up, I learned everything with one eye so everything is normal. If it happened when I was 10 or 15 years old, it would be a totally different story.

"People that know me know. It's a shock to the guys who never played with me before. Once you're around me, though, and we talk about it, it's kind of over with. Once in a while, people will say it's crazy me doing what I'm doing, but that's about it."

If Shipman seems comfortable with his situation, it's only because he is. If having one eye is cause to be viewed as disabled, then you're not seeing what Shipman sees. He doesn't view himself as being cheated by life, short-changed because of something that happened nearly a quarter of a century ago.

"It's been a long journey, but he's been pretty much like that his whole life," said Jeffrey Shipman, Andy's dad, who recently retired as a chief master sergeant after 28 years in the Air Force. He's easy to get along with and is a good friend to everyone. That's the way he's been his whole life. He doesn't get too upset about anything. He's usually the one pulling me out of the rafters because he keeps such an even keel."

When Shipman was 18 months old he pulled an empty fish tank off a table in the family home at The Whiteman Air Force base in Missouri. The tank shattered with shards of glass cutting Shipman's face. One of those shards went into his left eye, costing him his sight.

Jeffrey Shipman was in Louisiana at the time and couldn't get back to be with his family for several days,, so Sharon Shipman took her son to Children's Mercy Hospital in Kansas City. While the whole event was clearly a tragedy, the first positive glimmer for the youngster came when it was learned that one of the doctors on staff at CMH was working with cutting-edge prosthetics. Shipman was given an Iowa Implant, a glass eye that actually moves like his natural eye, leaving little evidence that it's not the eye with which he was born.

When Shipman got older and his father was transferred to California, he had the good fortune of working with a doctor who helped entertainers Sammy Davis, Jr. and Sandy Duncan with their prostethic eyes.

He has a small tube connected to the ocular nerve where his left eye should be. When he removes the eye, you see a pair of small bumps and it's those two bumps that help him move the eye. Otherwise, Shipman says it just looks like skin, similar to the inside of his mouth.

"I don't even remember any of it," said Shipman, who still has some facial scarring from the accident. "I hear stories about surgery and how I went to the hospital. But I don't remember anything about it. That's probably a good thing. I might be terrified of fish tanks if I did. My parents are better about it, too. I talk to them about it.

"My mom will talk to me, and I tell her she can't blame herself. She didn't have anything to do with me crawling out of my room and pulling that thing on myself. It was a horrible thing and it happened, but it could have gone so many different ways. I could have been upset and hated my parents, but I don't have anything against them. They've done everything they could to make sure I was comfortable and treated equal."

So Shipman set out in life as any other youngster would, growing up, going to school and learning how to play ball. His parents never made a big deal about his eye and neither did he. Shipman says he received "a little grief" about his situation in elementary school, but after that it wasn't a big deal.

By the time he reached high school, it wasn't even an issue. Shipman says, though, that the girls in high school were fascinated by it, asking him to show them his eye. The boys, however, were "grossed out."

Shipman also played basketball in high school. Though he wanted to play football as well, he realized how dangerous that would be, so he stuck with baseball and it paid off as he earned a scholarship to the University of Missouri. Along the way, his eye was never an issue. It even became a source of entertainment at times.

"My coach in high school always wanted, in big-game clutch situations, to come out to the mound with water or something and have me take it out so he could wash it off," Shipman said. "I was supposed to take it out, rinse it off and then put it back. Everyone on the team would be scared of the pitcher with one eye."

The only time Shipman's eye became an issue was during the 2003 draft. Leading up to the draft, all indications were that Shipman, after going 9-4 with a 5.26 ERA in 26 games for Missouri, would be picked in the early middle rounds. But when he didn't get drafted, Shipman says for the first time he was upset.

"Growing up, we didn't want to showcase the fact that he had one eye," Jeffrey Shipman said. "When we talked to his coaches, from Little League on, we didn't want to talk about his eye. Moving forward a whole bunch of years, though, it may have been to our detriment because no one knew. So when we filled out the paper work for the draft, we noted his medical condition and the clubs arbitrarily threw him out rather than basing their decision on his skills."

Red-flagged as being handicapped was only a minor setback, though. Shipman, who is represented by John Shinn, went to play in The Alaskan Baseball League, where he dominated and caught the attention of the Red Sox. He signed with Boston and got into four games with Augusta of the South Atlantic League, going 0-1 with an 11.12 ERA.

Shipman was 1-1 with a 3.14 ERA and 13 saves in 22 games for Class A Sarasota of the Florida State League in 2004 before the Cubs acquired him for Jimmy Anderson. He went 1-1 with a 3.18 ERA and four saves the rest of the way, punching his ticket to Double-A West Tenn this season. His efforts last season earned him the Midwest Professional Baseball Scouts Association's Midwest Minor League Pitcher of the Year Award.

While there was some talk that Chicago didn't know of his condition when it traded for him, Oneri Fleita, the club's director of player development, says such was not the case. Fleita added that Shipman's history suggests he's able to close out games but for now projects him as a possible middle reliever down the road.

"What I'm doing now, I don't think would be affected if I had two eyes," Shipman said. "I might have more pickoffs at first base but catching, throwing, hitting my spots, I don't think that would be affected much. I have my own depth perception, and this is what it's supposed to be like for me.

"My pickoff move is the same when I'm set. I act like I'm looking at the guy, but I'm actually looking at the dirt. We have a pickoff sign with the catcher. We mix up the moves because they don't know I can't see them. Even if they do know, they still don't know if I'm going to try and pick them off or not."

Shipman says he still causes a bit of a stir when people learn of his situation. He estimates he's told his tale a million times, but he's not tired of it. In fact, he continues to have fun with it.

"I went to one of the Major League games during Spring Training this year, and the guys said the day of the trade they were giving Jimmy Henderson grief because he was traded for an A-Ball pitcher with one eye. The first time I went up there [to Major League camp], no one said a word to me. But the second time I went up there, people wanted to see it. Kerry Wood asked to see it. 'Here it is.' What am I going to say?

"Sometimes I'll take it out to show the guys. Certain guys have seen it. It depends on the situation. For me it's not a big deal, but for others it obviously is. People are always afraid of being me being a sensitive guy or being hurt if anyone says anything about it. But I'm the first guy to crack a joke or bring the humor about it. Everyone has all kinds of stuff. They want to touch it or smack it with a Gatorade bottle."

Shipman also jokes about an idea he has for when he reaches the Major Leagues. Baseball has helmet cam and umpire cam and even a camera in the dirt by home plate. He has a new twist to the technology.

"What about eye cam?" he asks. "You can watch the game through my eye ball and see what I see. I'm going to try and hold back on that one for a while, though."

The glass eye Shipman has is brown, same as his natural eye, though he says he's toyed with the idea of getting another color. It's not cheap, however. The eyes cost about $3,200, though the bill is covered by insurance.

Growing up he had to have a new eye made every two or three years and he still has the old ones somewhere at home. Shipman now gets a new eye every four or five years and is scheduled to get a new one this off-season. By then he could be preparing to pitch at Triple-A Iowa or even the Major Leagues.

"The fact that it happened was bad," Jeffrey Shipman said. "But there are too many positives that came out of it. There are too many blessings in our lives, and Andy recognizes that every day. You can go through life with a sour outlook, or you can wake up with a smile."

And Andy Shipman wakes up smiling every day.

Kevin Czerwinski is a reporter for MLB.com This story was not subject to the approval of the National Association of Professional Baseball Leagues or its clubs.