Little League Baseball - I'm missing something....

[moez]

So my son's in Little League. He probably won't be a pro... for that matter, he probably will be lucky to make second string in the "pony" league - but he really enjoys it.

Every year it tears me up a little more to watch these coaches berate and demoralize these kids so that they can be number 1. Think about it - nine and ten year olds (many of whom still believe in Santa) getting chewed out publicly for missing a steal sign. Forget about teaching them game fundamentals and teamwork - we gotta win, man.

I think sports are great, they can really teach kids valuable lessons. But, look around at what it's gotten to. I mean, every kid on my son's team goes to personal batting and pitching lessons. Every kid is put under the "come on son, don't let mommy and daddy down" pressure every time they walk up to the plate. What is going on?

I mean, when I was a kid, I can't even recall my (or any) parents coming to games. Now, every parent is at every practice - agonizing over their kid's prowess (or lack thereof).

But what to do? My son wants to play. There seem to be no coaches that aren't trying to compensate for some physical shortcoming.

OK.. I'm done whining - gotta get my 9 year old out there running some wind sprints.... can't have no pussies on this team....

[fertilizeonarbusto]

1. I agree

I love my parents, but when I was about 15 or so, I noticed I played better when they were not around. Oddly enough, I wanted to think that my athletics were about me, not them. Thankfully, they agreed.

[displacedtexan]

2. i raised a classical ballerina...

who changed her major to costuming because she didn't have what it took to get ahead: namely, vicious back-biting and intense intimidation of other dancers. (i'm talking ground glass inside pointe shoes, stealing costumes, and hateful rumors, to cite a few examples.)
in today's world, talent is worth a lot less than combat strategy... even in the world of ballet!
and it started as early as your little league problems. it's everywhere.

[BiggJawn]

3. Let him play as long as he wants to.

When it isn't fun for him anymore, he'll probably tell you "Dad, I don't wanna play anymore. Coach is such a hyper fuck-face..."

I saw the same shit in Catholic school girl's volleyball. My daughter sucked, but I supported her, never got on her.

Nothing makes me sadder than a "Little League Parent" in full roar. Kee-Ryst! WHY do people have to try and live through their kids?

[trof]

4. "organized" sports

Comes right behind "organized" religion on my list of "Things I Can Do Without".

<warning: Geezer rant to follow>
I don't think Little League came along until I was in my late teens.

When I was a kid we had a public park down the street. Had a big sandbox and some swings in one corner (for the "little" kids), the rest was open. Right after school we'd go home, change into our old/play-clothes and head for the park. We played whatever was in season. I can remember any complicated planning that went into this. Somebody always brought a football.

If it was baseball you'd bring your glove and a ball, if you had one. There was always at least one bat. We didn't have 9 or 11 or whatever on a side, just whoever showed up. 6 or 7, or 12 or 14 on a side was OK. If only 3 or 4 came down, we played catch or "scrub", using just one base.

We didn't have a basketball goal, but one of the neighbors did, in the back yard. We played "horse".

The first real team "organized" sports I played was in high school. Grammar school never heard of such.

When and why did the grownups take over? When and how did kids all of a sudden not know how to do a pick-up game after school?
mutter mutter mumble grumph
:shrug:
on edit: p.s. We got in a lot of fights about rules, and inbounds or out-of-bounds, and "YOU CAN'T DO THAT", but I don't remember any blood being spilled and everybody usually went home still friends. Especially if we were stopping off at Skip's house whose mom made the best peanut-butter cookies in the neighborhood. Sounds like Wally and the Beave, I guess.
:-)