Little League Blues

For all the good team sports do for kids, there are the occasional cases where children's well being is sacrificed to adult testosterone. Here's one that happened to me:

At age ten, my family moved from Newark to Springfield, NJ. This was 7 miles in distance, but light years in social economic cultural conditions. In Newark we "hung out", climbed garages, pitched trading cards (and occasionally pennies) played mumbly peg, and stoop and stick ball. I had no experience in organized or competitive team sports.

So in Springfield, I joined the little league, not even knowing the rules of baseball. I was the worst player on the worst team in the lowest level division. But still the rules said I had to play my innings.....this was recreational baseball of course.

Last game of season. We haven't won a game, and are in last place. We are playing next worst team. If we win, we lift ourselves out of the cellar. About 3 innings in, after sitting on the bench (I played second base) coach sits down next to me. Tells me how important the game is. Says, will you squeal if I don' play you, to give this team a chance? Of course what would a 10 year old do. I didn't play (we still lost.)

Some wounds teach us lesson. When I coached recreational soccer, I felt parental pressure to bend the rules so the best players could help us win. I held fast.