Trust, Respect and Love

Last year coaching, I approached the boys with the 3 things I thought they were going to need to succeed as a team:

Trust
Respect
Love

Boys are interesting creatures, and teaching them these 3 things changed us from a group of guys that were OK to a TEAM. The other thing I did was make them stretch out in a circle. They could look at each other while they were getting ready to play. They could talk to each other. More importantly, there wasn't anyone in the middle of the circle, unless it was me. The team was complete.

While they got ready, I repeated what I told them at the start of the year and at every practice:

1)You HAVE to learn to trust the guys that are on the field with you. You each have a position to play. That is the position I have decided, as the coach you have the best chance of succeeding in. I know there are other positions you want to play. For now, though, where you are is the most important position on the field. Learn that position, watch what the boy playing the position you want is doing to learn from him, and TRUST that everyone is ready to play their position as well as you are going to play yours.

2)Respect each other. This one was tricky - because respecting someone and liking them can be two different things. It helps if they work together, but they don't have to. You can not really care for someone but you have to respect them. Especially as a teammate. We're all different, but that difference requires that we respect each other.

3)Love each other, the team and the game. If the 1st two criteria are met, the 3rd comes naturally. It's important with boys to teach them that there's the Love you have for your family, the Love you may have for another person, and the Love that's required to be successful. It's not all kissing and hugging. Boys have to learn to Love each other without the added pressure of being looked at as queer. It's learning a team handshake, or whatever superstitious thing brings them together.

Lastly, I reminded them that the magic of the game happens between the foul lines. If you're not out on the field, you can't do anything about the way the game unfolds. But once you get out there between the lines, open up and feel the magic. Now the power to succeed is yours.

I have always felt that you almost enter another world when you cross any boundary line and step onto a competitive field. Everyone is watching you. You're no longer a witness but a participant. You now have control over the outcome of the game. Make the most of the time you have between the lines. When you come off the field, you want to know you did your job the best you could.

Memorial Day

I know it's late, but since it was just this past Monday, not too terribly so. I want to say "Thanks" to everyone who has put on a uniform, voluntarily or otherwise, to protect this great land, and the Great Game.

It takes courage, often beyond one's years, to voluntarily enlist to serve our nation. It comes from a belief that we truly are the greatest, freest in the world. No matter your length of service, donning the uniform takes great courage. You know, from that day forward, you now have the responsibility to stand up and protect us from whatever evil may arise.

It was a great weekend - even if we were all off the fields. I enjoyed the Indy 500, and my son got to take in a Texas Rangers v. New York Yankees game. I have to admit I was a little jealous watching it on TV, and not there with him. Growing up is hard on everyone I guess.

All their faces were in front of me

Last night I called two games - a T-ball game, and a Coach Pitch game. Something really funny occured. As I was watching each boy come up to bat, probably more so in the the Coach Pitch game, I saw the faces of all the boys and girls I've coached in the past.

Each one came up and there was an eerie reminder of each little guy that I've pitched to at one time or another. There were a couple that even reminded me of my own son. It was funny to me. As individual as we all are, there are certain traits we pick up that help us in that individuality, but somehow make us similar at the same time.

These guys also reminded me of what I miss when I watch the older boys play.....they're having fun. 9/10's, 11/12's and up really start competing hard. I think bragging rights at school plays into it quite a bit. This isn't parent induced competition - it comes from inside each boy. The problem the older boys have with it is they can't control it yet. They haven't figured out how to compete hard and have fun. An error or blown call causes them to lose their focus, and in turn it lets the team down. The games ended last night and win or lose each player was still the happy little guy he walked in as. That fades too quickly. I'm sure a bag of Dorito's and a cold juice bag is plenty incentive. Instead of pride, the little guys are playing for the snack reward at the end of the game.

Why do parents have to ruin everything?

Last night I was lucky enough to umpire a really good baseball game. The weather was great, and the teams both played as hard as they could. Fittingly, the end was a 12-12 tie. Both teams had equal opportunities to win. But, baseball is a funny game...you need one more out, or one more run, to finish things off, and somehow it just doesn't go your way.

The only black mark on the entire evening? The parents. Coaches telling us how to call the game and parents making fools of themselves in the stands just about made a special moment miserable.

What is it about us that makes us go so crazy sometimes? I remember coaching a team 2 years ago. Much like my son's team this year, we had moved up an age group, and were really struggling to mature as a team. I had serious doubts about being able to complete the season as a complete team. It wasn't the boys it was the parents.



When these boys reach a certain age, baseball practice becomes a "drive-by, drop-off" opportunity for most parents. I had so much respect for the parents that came to practice and watched. Those were the parents who saw the progress, and understood the methods in my madness. The parents that only showed up for games were the ones that crowed the loudest. My response to their questioning how and when I played their child was easily answered: "Come to practice, and you'll understand." Funny even at 11 and 12, when you think you can drop your kid off and he'll be the precious angel he always is at home, that lack of parental eyes watching them is a scary catalyst.

Already this year, I've heard but not experienced, a larger number of coaches and parents being ejected and put on probation for their actions out at the park. What a shame. There are three things you need to remember in Little League - Coaches Coach, Players Play and Parents Cheer. It really is pretty simple. I don't think I could look my son in the face if I were ever asked to leave for my behavior. I'm sure the drive home included a statement like...."It wasn't my fault, that umpire was an idiot." Why? Because a person that can't control himself like that doesn't have the ability to see the faults in his own actions.

I've coached hundreds of games of all types - and I'm most proud of the relationship I was able to maintain with the officials and the parents. By the time the last pitch was thrown, and the last out called - there was always a mutual respect that EVERYONE came together to be a part of the team.

The Flu Bug has left...Now the Rain Must GO!

The great game teaches a great deal about patience. Working through a hitting slump, or trying to find your pitches again are all lessons. Standing in Right Field when the entire lineup of the other team bats right handed.....patience. But this whole H1N1 Flu bug, and the never ending rain has been enough to drive us all a little crazy.

I'm glad the Flu scare was just a scare, and am grateful that not as many people as was feared got sick. Personally, though, I would have much rather have had the kids outside playing. Of course, I guess the baseball gods could see the week and a half of rain we've had here in North Texas coming. So the Flu was as good as any other excuse for holding us up.

Now, though, we're going to be hard pressed to get the season in, before we have to move into Little League tournament time. That's a big deal. I've been lucky enough to participate in that. As a Manager it's a terrifying time, but very rewarding after the dust settles. I'll save that for another post.

Right now it's time to get the boys and girls back onto the fields of glory. Inside the foul lines where all the magic happens.

Waiting out the Rain

Saturday night I did something I've never done, and I have to say I highly recommend it to anyone who wants a special moment of quality time with their child. My son and I went out to catch the Texas Rangers and White Sox. When we got to the park it was raining cats and dogs. We had bleacher seats in Center Field, and the run-off from Home Run Porch was pouring all over the area our seats were in. So, my buddy and I bought some hot dogs and soda, and found a couple of empty seats under the Upper Deck, and just sat and ate and watched the rain.

We got there early, like we always do, for batting practice, so we had about 2 hours to kill. After we ate and talked a little we went to the Legends of the Game Museum, and marveled at the facinating pieces of baseball history they have in there. Ty Cobb's cleats, Lou Gehrig's jersey, Babe Ruth's jersey....pieces of the Great Game's history that are so valuable. Seats from some of the great stadiums of baseball lore, and baseball cards that would make my dad sick with envy.

It was a beautiful cool night in Dallas, the rain stopped and the game started a little late, but by the time it did, my son and I were closer to each other than when we walked in the gate. I hope it turns into one of those memories that lasts for him. I know it will be one I take with me to the great beyond. I got to spend time with the young man that he is becoming and still see a flicker of the little boy he has always been. Being a dad is wonderful and nights like Saturday remind me of that, when I need to be reminded the most.