Football: Seminole sophomore overcomes heart ailment to get his kicks

As soon as Seminole kicker Reid Layton missed an extra point in last week's home scrimmage, coach Chris Burtch jogged to the sophomore and saw his eyes and the disappointment in them.

Burtch put his left hand on Layton's chest and hoped his fingers could convey assuredness. He tried to say the right words so he could see those brown eyes relax.

Layton's eyelids closed for an extra millisecond to show that he understood.

Burtch would not be able to see underneath Layton's jersey and shoulder pads and the scar on the 16-year-old's chest.

He couldn't see Layton's heart, the one that has aortic stenosis and three open-heart surgeries on it - the first when he was 3 days old, the second at 4 months, and the third at 8 years old.

The heart had a donor's pulmonary valve - Layton's now acts as his aortic valve, which lets oxygenated blood out. That valve was placed inside Layton when he was 8 years old.

That heart has another problem.

The donor valve will not grow as Layton does, so he is going to need another open-heart surgery. The doctors had said it would happen late in his junior high or early in his high school years, but a checkup last Valentine's Day put Layton in the clear this year.

The heart that surgeons reached by breaking through his sternum guaranteed that Layton would not play contact sports.

It especially didn't look like Layton would play sports - period - when he had a stroke after his third surgery and lost the fine motor skills in his right side.

"He was like a little old man," said his mother, Stacy, remembering her son being unable to write his name or pick up a puzzle piece.

But the rehabilitation worked, he slowly got back to full strength, and he continued sharing his story about his heart with others. He gave speeches at conventions and appeared in commercials and videos for the American Heart Association.

The heart near Burtch's hand had been filled with a love for sports since Layton was a child. He rode motorcycles, played basketball and golf, and wanted a piece of football after watching his brothers play.

When Layton was in seventh grade, he was punting after one of younger brother Rance's games. Burtch saw the 40-yard kicks and potential.

Burtch and Layton talked about Layton kicking, and his parents and the doctors gave it the OK. They agreed, though, that no contact would be allowed.

That heart would race in eighth grade during extra points, kicked with a soccer style, and kickoffs, when Layton would kick, grab his tee and run to the sideline.

In his freshman year, he got called up to the junior varsity team because the squad didn't have a kicker.

This year, he is the only sophomore on the varsity roster.

"That's a big responsibility and a privilege," Layton said.

Burtch could not see any of that at that moment during the scrimmage last week, and neither could the crowd, which will gather again when Seminole opens its season at home against Idalou at 7 p.m. Friday.

If fans could see, perhaps they'd remember Layton's story as the season, with all of its ups and downs, controversies and questionable calls, unfolds. They'd see a player who is frightened to fail.

"I never go halfway," Layton said.

Those fans would see how precious a life - and a sport - can be.

No, Burtch could not see any of that after the missed extra point. He could only feel.

Burtch consoled Layton.

"It's going to be all right," Burtch told him. "You'll get the next one."

And that heart answered.

"I put my hand on his chest," Burtch said, "and I could literally feel his heart beating through his shoulder pads."