If I were organizing a men’s softball team today, I’d make a rule: if you were in Little League, you can’t be on this team.
Dig this video of a Little League coach pepping up the kiddies for the game. If your dad, he says, ever told you the goal here is simply to play your best and have fun, then–I quote–“Your dad’s a loser.” Because, he says, the goal is to win: “make the other players cry.”
Dude, my dad on his worst day was worth 50 of you. I am so glad he–and my mother–decided to keep me out of Little League. It’s been my experience that organized sports, rather than bringing out anything good, turns you into an obnoxious little twerp. How many times have I seen that demonstrated in men’s basketball at the Y?
I was told I could play all day if I wanted, as long as it wasn’t in Little League. My mother taught me to hit like Harmon Killebrew. My dad played catch with my brother and me in the evening–after he came home from another strenuous day at the Ford plant. As the years go by, I’m more and more grateful to them for having the wisdom to let children be children.
This other guy–pffft! Begone, varlet.
There are certainly other ways to get youngsters to be competitive — for example, telling them that they’ll have to take knocks, overcome obstacles, and, yes, compete hard in school and their later jobs; that no one is going to make allowances for them later on; and that the stronger they get, and the more focused on goals, the more they’ll be able to protect and defend their families and Nation against those who want to hurt them. But to drive a wedge between boys and their fathers is unconscionable, as is the order to be cruel (“make them cry”) rather than victorious.
Every former Little Leaguer on our softball team was a backbiting prima donna. And none of them could hit worth a damn, either.
In unsupervised play, naturally the players try to win. They don’t need some jackass of a coach for that. And you’re right: competition is always going to be a part of human life. Learn to deal with it. Sometimes you can learn from losing. I’ve played many different sports all my life; and anyone who can’t handle losing… is a loser indeed.
When I played Little League for four years, my younger brother was on the team with me, and my dad and my best friend’s dad were our coaches. They loved us and told us to have a good time and play our best. I was fortunate, I know.
Very fortunate.
I played Little League baseball. Thank the Lord, I didn’t have a nasty, evil man as my coach. We played our best, we did want to come in first. But, not as that jackass of a so-called coach would want us to play.
That clip reminded me of the movie, “The Karate Kid” the master from the evil Dojo, that was his philosophy. Yeah, that was a movie, so sad to see this played out in real life.
Something tells me this is way more common now than it was when we were kids.