Paralympian Porter eyes new goal

To this day, you can hear the anger in Myles Porter’s voice. His words reek of resentment. His tone tells a tale of determination.

“I wanted to be a wide receiver,” Porter said defiantly, thinking back to his days growing up in Fremont, Ohio. “But my high school coach didn’t like the fact that I was blind. He didn’t even give me a chance.”

Whether he was a teenager competing in wrestling, track and football — he played defensive end, by the way — or a now 24-year-old regarded as one of the country’s premier judokas, Porter has been proving people wrong his entire life.

“I don’t like (trash) talkers,” continued Porter, who has since left football behind to pursue a career in judo. “At the end of the day, if you’re going to be a hater, that’s a motivator. If you think I can’t do something, I’m going to prove you wrong.”

Porter was born with an ocular albinism (the lack of pigment in his retinas), resulting in eyesight that equates to roughly 20/200. What most of us see 100 feet away is what Porter sees 10 feet away.

“I’ve done the sport for 25 years and it’s tough for me,” said Olympian Ryan Reser, Porter’s teammate, mentor and close friend. “It always amazes me that he’s so athletic and he is so aware of his surroundings. He can do anything he sets his mind to.”

Can — and has — done anything.

Porter’s judo resume includes a bronze medal at the blind World Championships in March and a fifth-place finish at the 2008 Paralympic Games in Beijing. His next big event is the USA Judo National President’s Cup Championships this weekend in Grand Rapids, Mich.

He wants to add “Olympic athlete’’ to his resume as well.

He competes against athletes with regular vision. Some with perfect vision. Porter is willing to take on anyone.

“I don’t do stuff to fail,” Porter said. “A champion does everything to win. A loser does everything not to lose. And that’s how I play judo.”

It’s always been that way, ever since he first picked up the sport at the University of Toledo. At the time, he was a football player for the Rockets and needed an extra course to remain a full-time student.

So he chose judo, fell in love with it immediately, and within a few years was flying out to the U.S. Olympic Training Center in Colorado Springs, to commit to the sport full time.

“We didn’t know what to expect,” Reser admitted, recalling Porter’s first day of practice.  “But I was kind of taken aback. He came in the first day, wowing everybody with his work ethic, his drive and passion, and his love for the sport.”

Those qualities are critical for any athlete, but even more so for Porter, who must enter every match more prepared and in better physical condition than his opponent. Simply put, he needs every advantage he can get.

“I pride myself on conditioning,” he said.  “Being in shape, lasting all five minutes if I have to.”

Several years ago, Porter didn’t know how long he would last at the Training Center. He was spending much of his time in solitude. He wasn’t speaking to his parents.  He wasn’t even sure if he was going to survive in the cut-throat world of professional judo.

“I was spending 75 percent of the day by myself,” Porter said, his voice slowing down as he relived some of his toughest days. “You get your butt kicked every day. You’re waking up at 6 in the morning to lift. You’re dead tired and you come back to a dark room. All you have is a TV. I didn’t have a cell phone. I hit rock bottom, because I was by myself. I didn’t know if I was going to make it. I didn’t know if I was making people happy enough.

“When I was at home, I was the big fish in a little pond. When I came out here, I was a minnow in the ocean.”

Soon enough, though, Porter became the shark.

Slowly but surely, he began earning the respect of his coaches and teammates. He began growing as an athlete and a person. And in time, he began hearing those whispers transition from “He’s blind.  He can’t do that!” to “He’s not blind. No way he’s blind!”

“We joke all the time that we don’t think he’s blind,” Reser quipped. “He enjoys hearing people say, ‘That guy’s blind? He just kicked my butt!’ ”

In reality, Reser is largely responsible for helping Porter get to this point. Porter does credit his coach, Ed Liddie, for much of his development, but he leaves no doubt that it’s Reser who has been his mentor and role model for the last few years.

The two work out and practice together in Colorado Springs, but they have also traveled the country together. They speak at schools and corporations. They started judo programs for visually impaired athletes. They’re even trying to get on the “Amazing Race” reality TV show.

Clearly, in what is largely an individual sport, Myles and Ryan have become a dynamic duo.

“Myles is the guy that everybody likes having around,” said Reser, an Olympic alternate in 2000 and 2004 who finally made the team in 2008. “He’s the guy that’s always joking around, makes everybody laugh, lightens up the situation. But as a teammate and as a friend, he’s somebody that has been through a lot and knows what it’s like to be a true friend and have true friends. If I ask him to do anything for me tomorrow, no matter what he had going on, he would do that for me.”

That’s the kind of person Porter is — a champion in every sense of the word. Still, he yearns for more.

“To make an Olympic team would be my ultimate goal,” said Porter, who excruciatingly missed out on a berth in the Olympic Trials by one spot in 2008. “It would be hard to put into words.”

More disappointment came Porter’s way on May 1, when he was competing in the title match of the Senior National Championships against Kyle Vashkulat. A victory would have given Porter a gold medal and placed him on the senior world team. Vashkulat ultimately came out on top, but that just made his opponent hungrier than ever.

“I was very disappointed,” he said. “I was the first visually impaired person to ever place in nationals, but you wouldn’t ever have known. I wanted to win it all, bring it all home.  But knowing you have to wait a whole year, and missing out on the world team by two or three points…”

His words began to trail off, the disappointment obvious as ever. Porter had a right to be disappointed in himself. He just shouldn’t expect anyone else to be.

“A lot of people, especially on the Paralympic side, they’ve accomplished so much,” Reser said. “But for him, it’s like there’s no roof. Whatever he’s done, he wants to do more. He accomplished something? That’s great. He’ll cross it off his list and go onto the next thing. It’s a no-fear mentality, and that’s what I am truly impressed by.”

Come to think of it, is there anything Porter can’t do?

“Drive,” he said. “That’s about it. Everything else I can get close enough to see. The only thing they don’t trust me with is a car. The thing is, I’ve seen drivers. I can drive better than half of these people! … I can get away with it, I bet you I could. I’d just follow someone who’s worse than me.”

In a way, it’s ironic that “drive” is the only thing Porter claims he cannot do. Because in reality, that just might be his greatest skill of all.

 

Story courtesy Red Line Editorial, Inc. Drew Silverman is a freelance contributor for teamusa.org. This story was not subject to the approval of any National Governing Bodies.

Tags: Eddie Liddie, Myles Porter, Ryan Reser