What I learned from Little League.

<p>I’ve posted from time to time that things remind me (in a bad way) of my experience in Little League. I thought I’d elaborate.</p>

<p>First, I coached about 10 teams over the years of kids ages 8 to 18, of all ability levels - from “not-sure-which-base-to-run-to” to some high school aged players who are currently starters in Div. 1 college ball. And I loved every minute of the time I spent with the kids on the field. But the fields don’t mow themselves, the game schedules don’t arrange themselves, umpires don’t show up unasked, etc,. It takes more volunteer hours than you can imagine to get the thousands of games I was responsible for played. So I spent a lot of time on a League Board, including a stint as president and chief flak-catcher. And over the years I saw more BS parading as “principle” than I could ever forget. And I observed some patterns and learned some truths about human behavior. </p>

<p>1) Good People will do bad things if they can justify it as serving a noble goal.
2) Good People will act in self-serving ways as to which they don’t want to admit their actual motives - sometimes even to themselves.
3) When a Good Person is motivated to do something bad and/or self serving, they are highly motivated to recast the reason they are doing it as being based on some laudable abstract principle or noble cause, instead of their actual selfish motivation.<br>
3) Anything that’s “for the children” is a noble cause.<br>
5) When Good People do self-serving or bad things under the cloak of a noble purpose, they are impelled to exaggerate and distort reality to reinforce the cloak of an abstract principle at issue and direct attention away from their true motives - again, not necessarily consciously.</p>

<p>How does this pan out in real life? Well, let’s say Johnny’s dad wants to coach the “prestige” team that year. His competition is a long time league coach - Bob - whose own children have grown up. Gossip will start to circulate about the importance of the “bond” between fathers and sons in sports. Dark mutterings will crop up about sexual deviates - why does Bob want to hang around little kids, anyway? Has the league really done a good background check? Hey, legitimate questions, right? All asked for the benefit of “the children”, right? But its not really about That. It’s about John Sr. beating out Bob. </p>

<p>Does Mary want her older son to play on the “cool” team but is worried that better but younger players will get chosen instead? Prepare for a debate about the importance of peer group bonding, appropriate social development, etc. which mandates forming teams by age, not skill. (Or the opposite argument from the dad of a skilled younger player.) Again, legitimate subjects, but not really the point. Prepare to be accused of not caring about “the children” if you disagree - even though it’s really not about them at all. I heard the damndest theories spun about lofty ideals - which always seemed to end up with the source (or the source’s best friend) obtaining some inconceivably trivial advantage. I’ve seen grown men hatch bizarre plots over what spot their kid was in the batting order. I’ve heard vicious rumors circulated about kids who competed with little Johhnie for preference at a given position. When a few innings of a game between 10 year olds had to be played over because one of the coaches messed up his batting order (with, predictably, the result that his best hitter - a girl - batted four times for the other players’ two) the do-over somehow offended the United States Constitution - and lawsuits were threatened - on principle, of course. I’m not kidding. In an older age group a high school coach at a nearby school was fired after a huge uproar sparked by a group which circulated anonymous letters accusing him of all kinds of things - including things I personally knew to be untrue (because I was the person they would have been reported to if they’d happened.) The real problem? The son of one couple who was a legitimate third string player was told that he was - third string at his position. But that was never mentioned, even once. It’s not just Little League - it happens in every arena of modern life, from schools to neighborhood issues to the workplace. But Little League is where I learned the lesson.</p>

<p>And the lesson I learned is that Good People can do bad and/or self serving things, and will, if they can cloak their concerns in the guise of an issue which is based on a noble principle divorced from their personal interests. And I’m not being sarcastic or ironic when I refer to the “Good People.” Many of these folks were friends of mine; almost all of them were legitimately honest, upright citizens - bona fide “Good People.” But somehow when they’re able to convince themselves that it’s not about their personal interests (which just happen to coincide with the proper application of the Noble Cause) they justify to themselves conduct that I honestly think they would never indulge in if they fairly and honestly assessed their own motivations.</p>

<p>So when I see people distorting and exaggerating events to make them appear to fit the mold of a noble cause, I’m inclined to look to see how they are likely to benefit (or how is someone they dislike likely to suffer) from the battle over that principle. Because likely as not, while there will be some factual basis which, if distorted and exaggerated enough, will provide a fig leaf of justification for the struggle, it’s really Not About That. And when that’s the case arguing about That is often a mistake, because when backed into a corner, the Good People will redouble their cloaking efforts. So if you disagree, you are now “against the children” or “for premarital sex” or whatever. And you can never effectively counter that accusation, since “it” really isn’t actually “about” the cloaking noble cause you’re now accused of being against.</p>

<p>That’s what I learned from Little League.</p>

<p>And it would make a darn good book. You must have plenty enough material; I hope you’ll give some thought to writing it. If not a book, a full length magazine article. </p>

<p>If you won’t do it for yourself, do it for the children. :)</p>

<p>

</p>

<p>No–just cynical.</p>

<p>All this sounds so familiar. With two S’s who have been involved in organized sports for the last 15 years, I recognize almost every one of those “good people”. S2 will be a Senior next year. One last year of sports. Will miss the games but not all the behind the scenes stuff.</p>

<p>I think you can change (i) the words “Little League” to “organized child sports” and (ii) the various baseball references to any sport and the OP still rings true.</p>

<p>I have attended multiple sports for my 3 children and learned pretty much the same lessons, sometimes painfully, for my children.</p>

<p>To find the good (or noble) reason for self-serving decisions or actions is basic human nature. I remember back in the 70s having a dinner-table argument with an uncle over something to do with the Vietnam War and military spending. He was an executive in a defense industry and had just made the point that he would be arguing his position even if it didn’t affect his contracts and income. I remember responding something like, “Well, then it’s a nice coincidence for you that what you believe in corresponds so well with what’s good for business.” I used to argue, in a friendly way, with this uncle a lot.</p>

<p>There’s already been a book, btw. Check out “Little League Confidential” by Bill Geist (former columnist for the NYT). Same point, but absolutely hilarious.</p>

<p>My only baseball experience:</p>

<p>I was young, probably in that 7-8 year old range, but I don’t remember exactly. I was with basically all boys, maybe one other girl. This is the type of beginning baseball where the coach pitches underhand, and no one strikes out. You swing until you hit. Well, I couldn’t hit. I would swing and swing and make no contact with the ball. Sometimes I would eventually hit, but sometimes a coach would ask me to sit down and come up again later. I was the only kid who had to sit down without hitting. I was a sweet kid and pretty quiet, but I did feel embarassed being the worst kid on the team. </p>

<p>One day one of the coaches, a kind Native American, worked with me the entire practice. He taught me how to swing and when to swing for the ball. He taught me how to feel the bat when I swung. He didn’t have to help me especially, and I’m sure it was a tiring job, but he did it. One day a little after that my dad was pitching for me in the front yard. I swung and hit the ball, and it hit my dad in the shin. The mark of the seams were imprinted on his leg through his pants and lasted a week. It was one of the times my father was most proud of me, and he has mentioned since then how thankful he is that a kind man took me aside and worked with me when he didn’t need to. </p>

<p>A quick story from the same season: I was sitting on the bench with a group of boys who were arguing about who was the best player on the team. At that age, they were of course arguing for themselves. One of the fathers was standing behind them and said: “You know who I think the best player on the team is?” The boys were eager to find out who until he gave my name. They of course argued that I wasn’t, but I remember the father saying it was me. I knew, of course, that I was not the best player on the team, but I value and remember that father for saying that.</p>

<p>I don’t know whether you can draw any conclusive statements about human nature from my experiences. I certainly wouldn’t. But my only experience with baseball left me feeling good about people, so I decided I’d share.</p>

<p>I loved Little League Confidential. It absolutely rang true to my experience. The really enjoyable part of coaching was the teams with young kids who were just playing for fun. The ugly stuff always seems to revolve around the parents who had unrealistic expectations for their kids, and wanted to rearrange the Universe to match their dream.</p>

<p>My oldest son got so fed up that he dropped baseball and took up wrestling, which had an objective aspect to it that couldn’t be manipulated (at least at our high school.) They had a “challenge” system, where any kid could challenge the top wrestler in his weight bracket to a match at the start of the week. If the challenger won the match, he was the varsity wrestler in that weight class that week - no appeal. It happened a few times, and the other guy had to win a challenge back to regain his spot. Not much a parent could do to work that system.</p>

<p>Girl’s soccer, on the other hand, was, if anything, worse than baseball.</p>

<p>kluge,
From a parent whose sons successfully negotiated Little League, AAU, PAL, and High School baseball, Thanks for all those years you put into it. I know exactly where you are coming from and it ain’t easy. My husband put in some time as well although not as much as you and I saw the pain and hard work it took with little thanks.</p>

<p>I agree that the hardest thing to take was when people (usually parents) do not fight ‘fair’. By that I mean not confronting the real problem which is that their kid isn’t playing where and when they want him to; instead, attacking other players, their parents, the coaches, etc on some other level, like morals, rumors, character. This is the strategy 9 times out of 10. </p>

<p>I wish people could just stand up and ‘be a man’ so to speak, and admit to themselves and others what their problem really is, instead using manipulation, politics, and rumors to destroy other people’s reputations.</p>

<p>This may ruffle some former coach feathers, but something always irked me about dad volunteering versus mom volunteering. When moms volunteer in the classroom — and it is almost exclusively moms in my experience — they understand that they are doing it for the good of the class or to help the teacher but that they aren’t going to see any special favors accorded to their child by volunteering. Their kid isn’t going to be student of the week if they don’t deserve it, or go to the head of the lunchline, or be picked for an award over someone with a higher grade. What I saw in Little League, however, was the implicit belief by the volunteer dads that since they were putting in the time, it damn well was going to be their kid selected for All Stars (B team if not A) and their kids were going to spend the most time in the most desirable positions even if they were no better or more deserving than the kids whose parents were not coaching volunteers. Some examples could only be called egregious: kid selected for the All-Star team even though he broke his arm after the first game of the season and never played another game until the all-star season started and the cast came off. Dad was a former team coach and an assist commissioner in the league. Even the kids became cynical after that one.</p>

<p>Last night I attended my 7- yr old nephew’s pre-Little League game. (I actually have no idea if it’s pre-Little League. All I know is it is not official Little League.)</p>

<p>The Highs:</p>

<p>Parents and coaches were mellow.</p>

<p>Coaches really trying to help all the kids.</p>

<p>Kids seem to be learning the rules of the game.</p>

<p>2 or 3 good players, several kids trying hard.</p>

<p>A nice night to be outside.</p>

<p>A close-by playground where the younger siblings were having a lot of fun.</p>

<p>The Lows:</p>

<p>3/4 of the kids bored - spent most of their time throwing dirt at each other.</p>

<p>No kid-decision making - coaches tell kids when to run, throw, etc., and, since they aren’t really paying attention, the kids also have to be told when it’s their turn to bat.</p>

<p>Adults played two key positions (pitcher and catcher).</p>

<p>The kids have no idea what the score is (nor did they seem to care).</p>

<p>Too many kids standing around doing nothing. (The few renegades, trying to throw around a ball when they were supposed to be sitting on the bench, get reprimanded.)</p>

<p>1/4 of the kids overweight. The “snack” was sugar-filled juice bags, gummy bears and Rice Krispies cakes.</p>

<p>High or Low?:</p>

<p>No arguing kids.</p>

<p>No fights about calls.</p>

<p>No pecking order.</p>

<p>No shortage of players.</p>

<p>Perfectly manicured field.</p>

<p>Fancy equipment and uniforms.</p>

<p>Weenie…I am not sure why having an adult as pitcher was a low for seven year olds. It is hard to play the game with a seven year old pitcher. It would be mostly walks. </p>

<p>I also am not sure why it is a low that they had no idea what the score was. In the very young divisions, the emphasis is not on the score but just learning and enjoying the game. I see that as a plus.</p>

<p>Jazzymom–I unfortunately must disagree about both your points about men and women. In my kids’ elementary school, there was definitely a culture of perks and favors going to kids of PTA officers/classroom moms–awards, privileges etc. Not in all classes, and not all moms. there was a cozy relationship between some moms and some teachers. When my D graduated sixth grade, there were three students of the year from each sixth grade–in the one she was not in, all three went to the kids of the classroom moms.</p>

<p>As far as Dads, I know when my H coached Little League, he always slighted his own kid so as not to have any appearance of favoritism. He coulda gotten S on All-Star team, but didn’t. I’m sure he was not the only one.</p>

<p>Weenie,
It sounds like you were watching a “coach pitch” game which is a teaching level within Little League. Hence they don’t keep score and it’s mostly instructional (go here, throw there). Coaches pitch because the kids aren’t capable of throwing anything that’s hittable and worse case they end up throwing the ball at the batter. In our coach pitch games they would have the kid who was “playing” pitcher stand behind the coach so he could still field balls.</p>

<p>^ I understand all that. I just recall when I was a kid part (OK, a big part) of the fun was winning - and that required knowing the score. I understand all the philosophy about non-competition etc. But are these kids so detached from the game that they aren’t even secretly aware of who’s winning? I’m amazed at that.</p>

<p>I’m sorry. I’m being dumb and nostalgic for the days when kids’ sports were more than about learning the game. You know - when we honed our “debating” skills ;), when we learned about leadership and self-promotion (the good and the bad!), when we were always short for players and you had to run around like crazy to cover every position (never a dull moment), when our snack was a drink out of somebody’s garden hose, when we made do with poor equipment and a couple of trees in the way, when none of the kids were fat, when competitive juices were flowing (even among kids who were BAD - like me!)…</p>

<p>Can it be a coincidence that American kids really aren’t very good ball players? That the good players are coming out of countries without fancy stuff?</p>

<p>Kluge, excellent post.</p>

<p>My teenagers have played baseball, soccer, basketball, wrestling, track, football, and lacrosse as organized sports, and I think your observations are spot-on and can be applied to any of them.</p>

<p>We have had wonderful experiences and we have had very painful ones. There are still a few stage parents and “bought” coaches who hurt my kids (psychologically) that I will NEVER forgive.</p>

<p>And you’re also right - the most political sport our kids ever participated in was girls’ soccer!!!</p>

<p>I always thought the Little Leaguers were a bunch of sissies. They could only play with kids their own age, and rarely had role models of kids older than themselves. They needed adults to settle their disputes for them (hmmm). They institutionalized the scapegoating and stereotyping of the less capable, and provided fewer opportunities to them. They watched a bunch of adults make fools of themselves, and turn winning into everything.</p>

<p>They could have learned a lot more (and most would have been a lot happier) with stickball.</p>

<p>Mini and Weenie, i think you’re nostalgic for a world I sure never experienced. Actually, two different worlds. Weenie wants competition and kids to know when they are losing–my H experienced lots of that. A dynamite Little League player, but between horrific coaches and an overbearing father, he quit baseball rather than throw up before every game.</p>

<p>Mini envisions when everyone could play–that actually is mandated in LL, but certainly wasn’t the norm when I grew up–not a natural athlete, I was not welcome in any game where trying hard wasn’t enough.</p>

<p>On my kids’ LL teams, girls and boys both played, the teams were multi-ethnic, multi-age, and multi-income level. Didn’t matter who you were, you could play.</p>

<p>And I particularly liked the fact that in the instructional, lower levels, competition was not the point. Why do kids need to be trained to care about winning? What is nostalgic about that? For cryin’ out loud, you guys sound like a couple Republicans whining about how kids aren’t tough enough anymore. Let’s make’em cry more as kids; they’ll be tougher soldiers later, right? (edit–no, I know you don’t mean anything like that.)</p>

<p>My H loved coaching the lower levels; it was the competitive level which drove him nuts–maybe cuz he always strove to see things from every kid’s point of view, not just his own.</p>

<p>Kluge, </p>

<p>ditto from the soccer side of things. I did what you did for a long time AND I worked as a ref for a decade on top of it. I also know the point your making here. :wink: </p>

<p>The same things happened in our little league program here too. I always felt it was because when men or women compete against their neighbors they loose perspective cause they 'see" that other coach in the community. In soccer, when ever we had several teams from town end up in the same bracket, you knew you’d have problems, or should I say non problems that meant you were fielding phone calls daily from tattlers. My poor wife had to deal with hours of calls, while I was out at the fields. She wasn’t a part of the program. </p>

<p>It was so much better when teams had to play other towns. Alot of this stuff went away. It is easier to deal with competition when you can’t see the other coach during the week. </p>

<p>In forming the board of directors, we hit a period of nirvanna for awhile. That is I had a group of people with kids in the program that for the sake of the entire community left their kids and teams personal concerns at the door and worked for everybody’s kids. Man it was awsome. We doubled revenues, growth and allmost killed baseball (sorry)as we began a spring fun league. It was about as perfect as a youth sports group could be. We formed touranments, hosted professional soccer games which generated revenues we could turn around and use to create free skills clinics, scholarships and improvements. </p>

<p>Why’d it end? some faces changed out, and the focus moved back to my kid first cause I’m on the board. I was really let down by some “good people” who for some reason, felt justified to behave the way they did. </p>

<p>It’s like herding kittens on a cattle drive, but when everthing alines, it was alot of fun warts and all.</p>

<p>I thought this was about what I learned from playing in LL. Which was try to get out of the way before the ball hits you in the face.</p>