Countless young boys want to be professional baseball players when they grow up. A very countable number of those will actually make it. This is indisputable and universally understood. What is less accepted is why. Most people have bought into the common wisdom that so few ball players succeed because the game is so difficult, and while that is true it is not the real reason. The vast majority of ball players never play Major League Baseball because it is not what they want from life.
It is a sad fact that parents spend so much of their time, effort and money setting their child up for a lasting career in baseball. It’s not sad to spend the time, effort and money. It’s sad to do those things for the wrong reasons. The game is not bad. In fact, I believe that baseball has unique lessons to learn that cannot come as completely from any other sport experience. It is sad is that the early years of a player’s baseball experience is solely focused on preparing him for a later career that may not happen. We all want to teach our young players how to play the game well, but our primary focus should be teaching the life lessons that baseball has to offer.
Every baseball player must learn to throw, catch and hit correctly. Those are repeatable, mechanical actions, and they must be executed reliably and consistently in order to achieve success. There are actions and process within the game that are practiced and drilled to develop confidence and ensure consistency. The same is true of any sport, pastime or profession.
On the other hand, not every sport, pastime or profession ends in failure as easily or as often as baseball. If a player is to succeed at this game, he must learn to reject failure and move forward. This aspect of the game, probably more than any other, is celebrated by coaches and players. It is the perfect example of what this game can teach.
Perhaps more importantly, though, are the simpler lessons. People are rewarded when they are mentally and physically prepared to perform. We all do better when we study and practice. Visualization of a task at hand helps us meet the task and succeed. All of this is true in baseball and in life. Any coach that doesn’t draw the parallels between baseball and other life experiences is failing as a coach.
I blogged earlier about coaches who treat their teams like PlayStation games, trying to move each player on the field in real time as if it were they who were playing the game. The argument can and has been made that young players don’t process information quickly enough to be successful on the field within the context of the game. I don’t dispute that. At the same time, young players are not stupid. They can process a mistake made and learn from the experience.
As in life, we learn best by making mistakes. As a coach, I let players make mistakes. It’s the best way for them to grow as people. And if they are meant to play baseball later in life, they will grow more completely as ball players as well.
Thursday, July 30, 2009
Wednesday, July 29, 2009
Just Let Them Play
I see it all the time. I saw it again this past weekend. There are far too many “coaches” in youth baseball who wish that they were on the field playing.
My 11U team competed in a tournament and played a team from La Mirada, California. I mention the city only for point of reference. This team could have been from anywhere. The reality is that this happens a lot.
And before I get too far along on this rant, let me be the first to say that we meet many, many great people in baseball. It’s a wonderful sport with interesting people and rewarding experiences. The majority of players are great kids. Most of coaches are polite, hard-working, under-appreciated people.
But there are those who lack the perspective they need to teach our youngsters, and the fellow I ran into this past weekend is one of those. His type is the most bothersome of “coaches” in youth baseball. He roamed foul territory just outside his dugout and continually yelled instructions to his players on defense: “Take two steps back” and “remember to go to first” and “left, right, left” and “your elbow needs to be up when you make that throw” and on and on and on. All the things he should be repeating in practice, he repeated during the game.
Late in the game I asked the manager of the opposing team where he found his coach. I had a hunch about the guy, and it was quickly proven. “He’s very intense,” the manager told me, as if that was an excuse. “He’s that way all the time. Even when he eats a burger.” It turns out the guy played “pro ball” for eight years.
It’s extremely rare to run across a former major-leaguer coaching in youth baseball. On the other hand, it is common to find coaches (some getting paid) who played professional baseball at a minor league level. I’ve long since stopped being impressed by my peers who are former minor-leaguers. Not because they are necessarily bad coaches. In fact, many are very good. I’m just not impressed any longer because I’ve met so many of them.
But here is the point … Some of these former players are coaching and managing games as if they are sitting in the living rooms playing PlayStation baseball. If they could move their young players around the field with controllers, they would. I don’t know if they are bitter because they didn’t go as far in the game as they wanted. Perhaps they can’t let go of that feeling. Whatever the case, their players will not learn to think for themselves or synthesize their instruction unless they get to play the game on their own.
In the end, it all works out. With the help of their parents, players move from team to team until they find the right fit. Some players learn well when given continual instruction. Some don’t.
One thing is certain, though. The game is more fun when it’s played and not worked. Work during practice. Play during games.
My 11U team competed in a tournament and played a team from La Mirada, California. I mention the city only for point of reference. This team could have been from anywhere. The reality is that this happens a lot.
And before I get too far along on this rant, let me be the first to say that we meet many, many great people in baseball. It’s a wonderful sport with interesting people and rewarding experiences. The majority of players are great kids. Most of coaches are polite, hard-working, under-appreciated people.
But there are those who lack the perspective they need to teach our youngsters, and the fellow I ran into this past weekend is one of those. His type is the most bothersome of “coaches” in youth baseball. He roamed foul territory just outside his dugout and continually yelled instructions to his players on defense: “Take two steps back” and “remember to go to first” and “left, right, left” and “your elbow needs to be up when you make that throw” and on and on and on. All the things he should be repeating in practice, he repeated during the game.
Late in the game I asked the manager of the opposing team where he found his coach. I had a hunch about the guy, and it was quickly proven. “He’s very intense,” the manager told me, as if that was an excuse. “He’s that way all the time. Even when he eats a burger.” It turns out the guy played “pro ball” for eight years.
It’s extremely rare to run across a former major-leaguer coaching in youth baseball. On the other hand, it is common to find coaches (some getting paid) who played professional baseball at a minor league level. I’ve long since stopped being impressed by my peers who are former minor-leaguers. Not because they are necessarily bad coaches. In fact, many are very good. I’m just not impressed any longer because I’ve met so many of them.
But here is the point … Some of these former players are coaching and managing games as if they are sitting in the living rooms playing PlayStation baseball. If they could move their young players around the field with controllers, they would. I don’t know if they are bitter because they didn’t go as far in the game as they wanted. Perhaps they can’t let go of that feeling. Whatever the case, their players will not learn to think for themselves or synthesize their instruction unless they get to play the game on their own.
In the end, it all works out. With the help of their parents, players move from team to team until they find the right fit. Some players learn well when given continual instruction. Some don’t.
One thing is certain, though. The game is more fun when it’s played and not worked. Work during practice. Play during games.
Wednesday, July 15, 2009
Baseball mommies and daddies (I differentiate mommies and daddies from parents) can be very entertaining. Players, coaches and parents can all learn from baseball mommies and daddies. That’s why talking about them is a recurring theme here.
I ran into a baseball mommy the other day at a day camp held by the local university. She was torn between leaving and hovering. In the end, she decided to tell me how good her son could be at baseball if only he would buckle down and take it more seriously. I pointed out that her boy was just 8 years old.
Of course she hadn’t forgotten how old her son was. The problem she had was reconciling his chronological age with the fact that he had “played up” the previous season, as if playing up was a sign of maturity. Mommy logic dictated that her player was ready for “the next level” and he should behave as such.
I talk with a lot of mommies and daddies who are driven to find ways for their players to play up. In some cases, these kids are forced to play on teams two years older. I recall a daddy who wanted his 8-year-old to play on the same 11U team as his 10-year-old because the younger boy was the player with a “real future.” I suppose his older son was barely hanging on in a feeble attempt to play up just one year.
Playing up is a concept that has been around as long as there have been young athletes. Greg Maddux played up with his older brother Mike. Hockey, basketball and baseball prodigies have historically played on teams with older players at some point. In some cases, that is how prodigies stretch their abilities. Of course it doesn’t hurt that it makes for good media fodder.
The problem for mommies and daddies is that the vast majority of young players aren’t prodigies. These players can’t and shouldn’t play up. And virtually no player should play up on a regular basis before the onset of puberty.
The first goal for parents is to make sure children under 12 love the game. Unless kids develop a passion for their sport, they won’t play later on in life. It doesn’t matter how much potential they have or what kind of God-given physical ability they possess. Without passion, teenagers will drop their sport as soon as they are introduced to girls, beaches, hanging out, and the myriad of other distractions that come along with high school. I spoke with a mother the other day whose gifted son played football player and made varsity as a high school sophomore, but left the game and dropped out of school the next year because he had no passion for those things.
Nothing a young player achieves in baseball before puberty matters. The ability to pitch a complete game as a 12-year-old is worthless as a 15-year-old. The five homers a player hits in Little League do not translate to five homers in high school. The 30 stolen bases recorded at 11 mean nothing once a boy starts to get long and gangly.
Of course, all of this logic falls on the deaf ears of baseball mommies and daddies. After all, their child is one of the exceptions, one of the prodigies. All math and probability aside, their kid is The Natural. That is why their 8-year-old will play on an 11U team, practice three hours every day, and work out with private pitching and swing coaches.
I ran into a baseball mommy the other day at a day camp held by the local university. She was torn between leaving and hovering. In the end, she decided to tell me how good her son could be at baseball if only he would buckle down and take it more seriously. I pointed out that her boy was just 8 years old.
Of course she hadn’t forgotten how old her son was. The problem she had was reconciling his chronological age with the fact that he had “played up” the previous season, as if playing up was a sign of maturity. Mommy logic dictated that her player was ready for “the next level” and he should behave as such.
I talk with a lot of mommies and daddies who are driven to find ways for their players to play up. In some cases, these kids are forced to play on teams two years older. I recall a daddy who wanted his 8-year-old to play on the same 11U team as his 10-year-old because the younger boy was the player with a “real future.” I suppose his older son was barely hanging on in a feeble attempt to play up just one year.
Playing up is a concept that has been around as long as there have been young athletes. Greg Maddux played up with his older brother Mike. Hockey, basketball and baseball prodigies have historically played on teams with older players at some point. In some cases, that is how prodigies stretch their abilities. Of course it doesn’t hurt that it makes for good media fodder.
The problem for mommies and daddies is that the vast majority of young players aren’t prodigies. These players can’t and shouldn’t play up. And virtually no player should play up on a regular basis before the onset of puberty.
The first goal for parents is to make sure children under 12 love the game. Unless kids develop a passion for their sport, they won’t play later on in life. It doesn’t matter how much potential they have or what kind of God-given physical ability they possess. Without passion, teenagers will drop their sport as soon as they are introduced to girls, beaches, hanging out, and the myriad of other distractions that come along with high school. I spoke with a mother the other day whose gifted son played football player and made varsity as a high school sophomore, but left the game and dropped out of school the next year because he had no passion for those things.
Nothing a young player achieves in baseball before puberty matters. The ability to pitch a complete game as a 12-year-old is worthless as a 15-year-old. The five homers a player hits in Little League do not translate to five homers in high school. The 30 stolen bases recorded at 11 mean nothing once a boy starts to get long and gangly.
Of course, all of this logic falls on the deaf ears of baseball mommies and daddies. After all, their child is one of the exceptions, one of the prodigies. All math and probability aside, their kid is The Natural. That is why their 8-year-old will play on an 11U team, practice three hours every day, and work out with private pitching and swing coaches.
Thursday, July 9, 2009
The Measure of an Athlete
The core of sport is competition. Teams compete against other teams. Athletes compete against other athletes. We continually play games against like-minded and equal-willed competitors to measure ourselves and our abilities. Those athletes who avoid or reject competition are destined to live a life outside of sports.
I was lucky enough to be chosen to coach a select baseball team of young athletes. Some of these boys will play for their respective high schools. By the looks of some of them, I will not be surprised if they play baseball beyond high school. It’s a nice looking squad and I am truly honored.
One of these young men (we’ll call him Fred) had commitments that conflicted with the first few practices of this team. During that time, we drilled the players and tried them out at a variety of positions. A number of players were so smooth and polished at their professed spots that they took the inside lane at winning those positions. In fact, most of the defensive spots were close to set by the time Fred joined us.
In fairness to Fred, I asked where he thought he might be able to contribute best to the team. We drilled him along with the other players who were vying to start at those positions. Fred came close to winning a start at first base, but he fell just short. His defensive and hitting mechanics were smooth, but another player was stronger and more consistent. In the end, Fred became a substitute.
Players compete for positions on teams. This process is ongoing and iterative. Teams form an original line-up based on internal competition. Then they adjust those line-ups as players get better or prove to be worse. We measure our players and their abilities in an effort to make our teams as successful as we can.
Fred decided to leave the team. He felt our selection process was unfair. He chose to quit rather than fight for a starting position.
Fred’s choice is similar to those made by athletes every day. Some athletes quit their chosen sport when they are young, while others leave when they are older. The Darwinian aspect cannot be ignored. In the end teams get better because they have a stronger group of players, and players get better because they compete against consistently better athletes. All of this is a bit sad because we would like to see everyone play, but reality is not that way.
The measure of an athlete is what sport is all about.
I was lucky enough to be chosen to coach a select baseball team of young athletes. Some of these boys will play for their respective high schools. By the looks of some of them, I will not be surprised if they play baseball beyond high school. It’s a nice looking squad and I am truly honored.
One of these young men (we’ll call him Fred) had commitments that conflicted with the first few practices of this team. During that time, we drilled the players and tried them out at a variety of positions. A number of players were so smooth and polished at their professed spots that they took the inside lane at winning those positions. In fact, most of the defensive spots were close to set by the time Fred joined us.
In fairness to Fred, I asked where he thought he might be able to contribute best to the team. We drilled him along with the other players who were vying to start at those positions. Fred came close to winning a start at first base, but he fell just short. His defensive and hitting mechanics were smooth, but another player was stronger and more consistent. In the end, Fred became a substitute.
Players compete for positions on teams. This process is ongoing and iterative. Teams form an original line-up based on internal competition. Then they adjust those line-ups as players get better or prove to be worse. We measure our players and their abilities in an effort to make our teams as successful as we can.
Fred decided to leave the team. He felt our selection process was unfair. He chose to quit rather than fight for a starting position.
Fred’s choice is similar to those made by athletes every day. Some athletes quit their chosen sport when they are young, while others leave when they are older. The Darwinian aspect cannot be ignored. In the end teams get better because they have a stronger group of players, and players get better because they compete against consistently better athletes. All of this is a bit sad because we would like to see everyone play, but reality is not that way.
The measure of an athlete is what sport is all about.
Monday, July 6, 2009
Politics, Favoritism, Fatalism and the Self-Fulfilling Prophesy
In youth baseball, there is much for a parent to get worked up about. There’s much for a player to get worked up about, too. Many times, the parent and the player are not on the same page and that’s a good thing. There are few tragedies greater than when a player gives up his dream because he was influenced by his parent’s fatalism.
I cannot say with any accuracy how many times a parent has used the words “politics” and “political” when describing youth baseball. Many parents of high school students have told me that their teenager was rejected from the baseball team because of politics. Even more parents have said that their young player didn’t make the Little League or PONY all star team because of politics. And from time to time I hear a parent or grandparent say their child is a substitute on the local club team because of politics.
Politics is an attempt to change things by providing favors. There is no value judgment associated with politics. It is a reality of government and everyday life that is neither good nor bad. Politics can be both and neither. If I want my neighbor to do something for me, I’ll probably do something for him. Politics happen every day, in every walk of life, and affect to nearly everybody.
As in life, politics play a role in youth baseball. I have swapped favors for coaches many times in hopes of getting better field times. I am exceedingly friendly with umpires, not in hopes of getting a bad call in my favor but in hopes that I get help when I need it. It’s sadly possible that an individual child may lose a place on an all star team when another child undeservedly takes a spot as a favor between parents. The same could conceivably happen at the high school level. Do these things happen because of politics? Maybe.
I have occasionally chosen less-gifted athletes for teams because of politics. I can recall one player who worked as hard to help me set up and tear down practice fields as he did to improve his game. I remember a player who went out of his way to congratulate teammates after good plays and encourage teammates after mistakes. I can think of players who thanked me for my efforts, asked for extra practice and made a point of asking questions. These kinds of players are much more valuable to me than the home run hitters who alienate other players and act as if they are the stars of the team. Is that politics? You bet it is.
At an interpersonal level, politics is simply favoritism swapped for favoritism. Humans cannot help but show favoritism to people they like. Everyone does it. Some people benefit from it and others suffer.
What this means to a young player is that youth baseball is no different from every other aspect of his life, and he better understand the process. In addition to improving his game, mastering several defensive positions, becoming a better hitter and running the bases well, a young player should learn to be a good teammate, be polite and supportive, arrive early to help his coach setup, stay late to help clean up, be attentive at all times, ask good questions and offer to wash his coach’s car. Young players should realize that being a great player will make them a great player and sucking up to the coach never hurts.
Like so much in baseball, this is another life lesson.
Parents need to avoid fatalism, especially around their children. In the final analysis, it doesn’t matter if a parent believes his child has no chance of becoming a Little League All Star, making the high school team, or earning a living in Major League Baseball. It is very important, though, that a parent keep those thoughts away from the young player. Young players will only play baseball as long as they have the passion to play and the drive to succeed. If Mom and Dad’s fatalism gets in the way, it simply leads to a self-fulfilling prophesy that nobody wanted in the beginning.
I cannot say with any accuracy how many times a parent has used the words “politics” and “political” when describing youth baseball. Many parents of high school students have told me that their teenager was rejected from the baseball team because of politics. Even more parents have said that their young player didn’t make the Little League or PONY all star team because of politics. And from time to time I hear a parent or grandparent say their child is a substitute on the local club team because of politics.
Politics is an attempt to change things by providing favors. There is no value judgment associated with politics. It is a reality of government and everyday life that is neither good nor bad. Politics can be both and neither. If I want my neighbor to do something for me, I’ll probably do something for him. Politics happen every day, in every walk of life, and affect to nearly everybody.
As in life, politics play a role in youth baseball. I have swapped favors for coaches many times in hopes of getting better field times. I am exceedingly friendly with umpires, not in hopes of getting a bad call in my favor but in hopes that I get help when I need it. It’s sadly possible that an individual child may lose a place on an all star team when another child undeservedly takes a spot as a favor between parents. The same could conceivably happen at the high school level. Do these things happen because of politics? Maybe.
I have occasionally chosen less-gifted athletes for teams because of politics. I can recall one player who worked as hard to help me set up and tear down practice fields as he did to improve his game. I remember a player who went out of his way to congratulate teammates after good plays and encourage teammates after mistakes. I can think of players who thanked me for my efforts, asked for extra practice and made a point of asking questions. These kinds of players are much more valuable to me than the home run hitters who alienate other players and act as if they are the stars of the team. Is that politics? You bet it is.
At an interpersonal level, politics is simply favoritism swapped for favoritism. Humans cannot help but show favoritism to people they like. Everyone does it. Some people benefit from it and others suffer.
What this means to a young player is that youth baseball is no different from every other aspect of his life, and he better understand the process. In addition to improving his game, mastering several defensive positions, becoming a better hitter and running the bases well, a young player should learn to be a good teammate, be polite and supportive, arrive early to help his coach setup, stay late to help clean up, be attentive at all times, ask good questions and offer to wash his coach’s car. Young players should realize that being a great player will make them a great player and sucking up to the coach never hurts.
Like so much in baseball, this is another life lesson.
Parents need to avoid fatalism, especially around their children. In the final analysis, it doesn’t matter if a parent believes his child has no chance of becoming a Little League All Star, making the high school team, or earning a living in Major League Baseball. It is very important, though, that a parent keep those thoughts away from the young player. Young players will only play baseball as long as they have the passion to play and the drive to succeed. If Mom and Dad’s fatalism gets in the way, it simply leads to a self-fulfilling prophesy that nobody wanted in the beginning.
Wednesday, July 1, 2009
The Baseball Resume
It’s a difficult thing to ask a parent to be objective, so I don’t even try. Parent myopia is one thing we all tolerate. It’s easy to find fault in other players while excusing the faults of our own, so expecting a parent to remain completely objective is not realistic. On the other hand, there are behaviors parents should avoid which go way beyond typical parental fanaticism. Some of these actions are stupid and many may be certifiably crazy.
A year or so ago, I interviewed a father who was looking for a team. I needed a player for an 11U team and he believed that his 10-year-old would fit well. We talked for quite a while as I tried to get a feel for the father’s personality – nothing will poison the chemistry of the team and the parents faster or more effectively than a crazy parent. This father assured me that his son was the best third baseman in southern California and had been recruited by teams 40 miles away. One statement left me speechless: This father was laying the groundwork for his 10-year-old son’s college baseball scholarship.
Four years ago, I watched my older son play a Little League game in his first year of Majors and chatted with a mother of another player. Both of our boys were 11 at the time. She was clearly upset that the manager of the team let her son pitch as often as she thought he should. In her opinion, her player was one of the more gifted pitchers on the team and she believed he would excel if he had more chances to perform. This mother confided in me that they would leave Little League at the end of the season because her boy needed to build his baseball resume. They were preparing him for high school. Apparently, without that baseball resume he wouldn’t make the high school team. I’ve run into that mother from time to time over the past few years and have asked how the resume was coming along.
Over the past couple of years I’ve talked with many parents about their sons and whether they were interested in playing on one of my teams. Choosing players is easy. Understanding their parents is far more difficult. The selection criteria parents sometimes use when deciding on a team for their child is interesting. Aggressive physical conditioning regimens, connections to professional or collegiate programs, and rigorous practice and game schedules are valuable to many parents of players between 8 and 12.
None of us know if our children will play organized baseball past 12 or 14 or 16 or 18. Each of those age levels have their own interests, distractions and priorities. We all want our players to stay with the game and love the game, but only great passion for the game will trump all the other things that a teenager can find interesting. So let’s not worry about how far our 10-year-old child will go in baseball. Let’s make it a great time of his life. We can worry about the teenage years when they arrive which will happen soon enough.
A year or so ago, I interviewed a father who was looking for a team. I needed a player for an 11U team and he believed that his 10-year-old would fit well. We talked for quite a while as I tried to get a feel for the father’s personality – nothing will poison the chemistry of the team and the parents faster or more effectively than a crazy parent. This father assured me that his son was the best third baseman in southern California and had been recruited by teams 40 miles away. One statement left me speechless: This father was laying the groundwork for his 10-year-old son’s college baseball scholarship.
Four years ago, I watched my older son play a Little League game in his first year of Majors and chatted with a mother of another player. Both of our boys were 11 at the time. She was clearly upset that the manager of the team let her son pitch as often as she thought he should. In her opinion, her player was one of the more gifted pitchers on the team and she believed he would excel if he had more chances to perform. This mother confided in me that they would leave Little League at the end of the season because her boy needed to build his baseball resume. They were preparing him for high school. Apparently, without that baseball resume he wouldn’t make the high school team. I’ve run into that mother from time to time over the past few years and have asked how the resume was coming along.
Over the past couple of years I’ve talked with many parents about their sons and whether they were interested in playing on one of my teams. Choosing players is easy. Understanding their parents is far more difficult. The selection criteria parents sometimes use when deciding on a team for their child is interesting. Aggressive physical conditioning regimens, connections to professional or collegiate programs, and rigorous practice and game schedules are valuable to many parents of players between 8 and 12.
None of us know if our children will play organized baseball past 12 or 14 or 16 or 18. Each of those age levels have their own interests, distractions and priorities. We all want our players to stay with the game and love the game, but only great passion for the game will trump all the other things that a teenager can find interesting. So let’s not worry about how far our 10-year-old child will go in baseball. Let’s make it a great time of his life. We can worry about the teenage years when they arrive which will happen soon enough.
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