The head man of our local little league called. He knew my son was in the league and wanted to know if I would like to coach one of the teams. Before I could say “Thanks for thinking of me but no thanks”, he said they needed one more coach to fill all the positions. The old guilt trip worked. I was told I would be mailed the rules, a schedule and a list of my players and then I was on my own.
I studied up on the rules specific to our little league organization, such as a limit on the number of pitches a pitcher can throw and a requirement that all players get to play at least 3 innings and others designed to protect the health of the 12 year olds and ensure everyone’s participation. Next I called all my players, talked with them about the upcoming season and then their parents to assure them their kids were in good hands. Not that I was any whiz at baseball but I wanted the experience to be an enjoyable one for their kids.
We gathered one spring Saturday morning at the local park where, I got my first look at our troops. They were a mixture of kids, some were there because their parents told them to be there, some because they thought they could play but were not sure and a few who had obviously been playing catch with their Dad since they were 2. Over the course of that day and several other preseason practices we assessed each player. They were evaluated for their level of ability and their best position. We put our best players at short stop, pitcher and catcher and spread the others around from there.
Tom was one of the boys we knew was a “project”. He had zero athletic ability, zilch, none. He was at least a head taller than all the others and was about 5 years from growing into his body. To say he was a tall, gangly drink of water would be too kind. Because of the aforementioned rule requiring every player be allowed to play at least 3 innings, we had to find a spot for him. Anyone who knows baseball knows there are less hits to right field than anywhere else. So Tom played in right field and we prayed no one would hit the ball to him. We were not only concerned about him fielding the ball but, if he did, where it would end up after he threw it.
Personally, unlike many of the other this-is-more-important-than-life coaches, I was thankful for the 3 inning rule. Kids this age are way too young to be told how great they are as well as they are not good enough. Any kid with the grit to come out and compete, be it sports, ballet or the debate team, deserves a shot. Especially one like Tom, who was subject to no end of ridicule from other kids and yet faithfully showed up to play. Like all the kids we worked with him on fundamentals, encouraged him and talked with him about the importance of his school work. He did not progress much athletically through our season but he was always there, on time and ready to play.
Several years later I read an article about Tom in our local paper. A sports writer had done a feature story on him. It seems as though Tom had indeed caught up with his early growth spurt. He played football in high school, earning all league by his senior year as an offensive lineman. He also excelled in the class room, earning a scholarship to the Air Force Academy. There, in his senior year, he made 3rd team All American as a football player.
The lesson I learned from my experience with Tom was never to discourage kids who are willing to face a challenge and make the effort it takes to be successful despite those who scoff at their efforts. Who knows, with your encouragement and support there is no telling what they might achieve.
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