Even as a child, Sarah Nauser seldom could be slowed by the concept of “no.” To the contrary, said her mother, Jamie Sanders: “It was almost like if you said ‘no’ she’d try harder.”
“I always found a way,” said Sarah, beaming, as ever, befitting her “Smiley” nickname.
So the girl who was as radiant as adamant played baseball with the boys from about the time she could run, leading to a softball career at Blue Springs High. When she became consumed with another uniform, she began volunteering for the Blue Springs Police Department by the time she was 15 or 16; she started at the Kansas City Police Academy the first date possible: the day after her 21st birthday.
She was eager to protect and to serve since nothing makes her feel better than to help people. But there was something else that she also calls a “driving force” toward that work: One day, she hoped she could guard the home dugout of the Royals teams she adored even through some woeful years.
Heck, maybe she loved them more not despite the hard times but because of them. They needed her support even more, she figured, and Kauffman Stadium became what she still calls her “happy place” some 40 times a year or more.
That allegiance even was displayed in a photo on Page A1 of The Star from Opening Day 2005: She was wearing the “G” in a “GOROYALS” lineup of T-shirts she had made for softball teammates. Never mind that it had been a weekday game and the picture attracted some attention in school. If she hadn’t been sick, exactly, her mom says with a laugh now, certainly you could say she had “Royals Fever.”
All those times figuratively standing watch over the Royals led to her vision of guarding the dugout becoming a reality four years ago … but in a most poignant of ways: It was her last day in full police uniform after a diagnosis of amyotrophic lateral sclerosis (ALS), the sinister neurogenerative disease that is fatal and has no cure.
Even as the 33-year-old sits in a recliner in her living room tethered to a breathing machine and virtually unable to move, though, the infinitely effervescent woman still doesn’t know or take “no.”
In her ‘spell’
In fact, she will persuade you that this cruel turn has been not just about what she’s lost but also what she’s found: a profound purpose.
Her tender heart and irrepressible spirit help explain why George Brett brought up “my friend” on Monday at the Joe McGuff Golf Classic. The event on behalf of the ALS Association Mid-America Chapter is part of ALS Awareness Month leading up to Lou Gehrig Day on June 3.
Since the day they met when she was on dugout duty, Brett, a longtime champion for the ALS community along with Tom Watson, has stood by his promise to help her in any way he can. He arranged for her to throw out the first pitch a few weeks later and for her to meet with politicians about ALS and stays in touch.
Her dauntless demeanor speaks to why the Royals will wear her T-shirts adorned with “#FIGHTLIKEAGIRL” and “#SARAHSSOLDIERS” on June 3, and why she plans to be at Kauffman Stadium to present Sal Perez with the Lou Gehrig Memorial Award.
(Displayed in the front hall of her home, incidentally, are framed and signed jerseys from Whit Merrifield, Nicky Lopez and a perfumed one of Perez, which wafted about the house before being sealed under glass).
Her way tells you why many Royals and former Royals have befriended her. That includes Mike Sweeney visiting her at home and holding her hand as he prayed with her in centerfield at spring training in what she called “one of the most wholesome, good moments I’ve ever experienced.”
