In the game of baseball, there are three true outcomes. 

When Ty Patrick Flood was at bat in the Williston Park Little League, more often than not there were only two, a walk or strikeout. 

Except for one day, when he made contact down the third baseline. Flood, who was diagnosed with Duchenne Muscular Dystrophy when he was about 5 years old, ran to first before realizing the ball was overthrown into right field. He made it to second, before realizing again the right fielder had missed his middle infielder and the ball sailed into left field.

Ty was at third. He was at home. A home run for Ty Patrick Flood. 

It was probably the first time the other team was cheering for an opponent, as loudly as Flood’s teammates and family, said Ty’s Uncle Thomas on Friday at St. Aidan’s Church on Willis Avenue, where his funeral services were held. 

Flood, 17, died last week.  At a young age, he was diagnosed with DMD, a genetic disorder and muscle disease that progressively debilitates the patient and requires the assistance of a wheelchair for most. 

He was a senior at Herricks High School who had earned a scholarship to Hofstra next year. A native of Williston Park, he was a friend to all. 

Pastor Adrian McHugh as well as Thomas shared words as gripping as they were emotional to the packed pews. Stories were told about Ty’s love for the Islanders, the Yankees and “for some unknown reason, even the Mets,” Thomas said. He was particularly fond of debating, conversing and sharing his knowledge with the world on whatever it was that piqued his interest in that moment in time. 

Ironically enough, it was what Ty was meant to do. 

The name Ty originates from Tadhg, which means philosopher or storyteller in Irish. At family functions, which Thomas said he always loved, Ty was seen as one of the guys and learned to hone his debate skills and expand his vocabulary. His father Timothy was often on the other end of those conversations, for better or worse.

“You could sit and talk to my son for hours on end on all different topics,” Flood told Blank Slate Media. 

 Flood made it clear that Ty did not let his disease define who he was. 

“Ty was a smart and funny kid to be around,” Flood said. “A lot of people recently have said ‘I’m sorry for your loss,’ which is OK, but don’t be sorry for Ty because Ty had a good life. Our family wanted last week to be a celebration of his life and I really believe that was captured.”

Similar sentiments were expressed by his Uncle Thomas, who said his nephew never questioned why he had his illness.

“Ty was smart, so perhaps we should follow his lead and realize we are asking the wrong question,” Thomas said. “We should this morning ask ourselves how Ty was able to live a full life with so many obstacles.”

Simply enough, the answer was “love,” Thomas said. 

The Friday morning funeral service was followed by Ty’s internment at St. Charles Cemetery in Farmingdale, where the teen will rest as he goes to Tír na nÓg, an Irish saying, which Pastor Adrian McHugh explained during his eulogy translates into “land of the young.”

Flood also is thankful to the community and especially Mayor Paul Ehrbar, who said when Ty was transitioning to a wheelchair that the village board of trustees would help with any variants necessary to make the Floods’ home handicap-accessible. 

“Ty was a citizen of Wilson Park. it’s like the people in his community raised him as much as my wife and I did,” Flood said. “This village is a reflection of its mayor as well.”

Ty will be missed by those who knew him. For his family, they’ll have countless memories, including trips to Citi Field which always included hot dogs and a soda in the first inning, chicken wings in the fourth and a seventh-inning stretch met with ice cream in a batting helmet. 

One thing is for certain, however: Ty will not be forgotten.