Little League Lessons

What We Learn On and Off the Field

Little league. Been there, done that. I played little league baseball from the age of 6 until the age of 14. I played every position except for 1st base. (I have no idea why I never played first base) My fondest memories were: hitting my first single, double, triple, homerun, and grand slam; striking out my first batter; diving catches in the outfield; stealing 2nd base, 3rd base, and home plate; throwing out a slow runner at 1st base from left field, and going out for ice cream after the games – win or lose.

Looking back now, I find it easier to appreciate the things I learned from playing baseball as a kid. First, I realize that my Mom did a lot for me that I never appreciated, until now. She drove me to every practice and game. She sat in the bleachers and cheered for every swing, hit, miss, catch, or dropped ball. She cheered the loudest when I made a great play or big hit. Win or lose she was there to support me, encourage me, and remind me that winning or losing was part of the game.

Second, I realize that winning and losing are two sides of the same valuable coin. Confused? Hold on, I’ll explain… To be a winner you have to have a passion for winning. You need a burning desire to be number one, the best. Until you’ve had a winning experience you really have no idea what is so great about it. Sure, you may have raced your friends around the playground or had bragging rights for eating the most hotdogs at the school picnic, but that’s not REALLY winning. Winning is knocking in a two-run homerun in the bottom of the last inning. Winning is the feeling of absolute elation you feel as you jog into home plate, crowded with your teammates cheering, knowing that you made the difference between winning and losing. That is a feeling that will never leave you and you might just crave it in the other things you do in life.

So too is the feeling of losing. Losing sucks. Let me repeat that. Losing sucks. As someone else once said “2nd place is the first loser” and I believe them. Once you’ve dropped a fly fall in deep center field, only to watch the winning run tag home. Seen your teammates turn away from you in disgust and curse you under your breath. Then you know the brutal sting of defeat. But there is an upside. Losing is when your true character is tested. Succumbing to defeat, assuming it is what you deserved, is never the answer. Resolving to practice harder and never drop another fly ball again, that’s the right answer. Despite the downside, losing shapes your future just as much as winning, its all in how you respond and react. Like making mistakes, losing is a learning experience, as long as you take the time to look back and try to understand why you lost.

Finally, I learned to have fun playing baseball. On the baseball field, my friends and I were the playing for the fun of the game and nothing else. We had nothing else on our minds except playing baseball in that moment. We were playing a game that our fathers had grown-up playing on the streets of New York City, Boston, or Philadelphia. It was time away from the rules of school, chores at home, and the pressures of growing up in a world that was changing faster than we were.

This was before professional scouts were watching Pee Wee League games looking for the next George Brett, Derek Jeter, or Alex Rodriguez. Now it seems, in some places, the emphasis on winning, and only winning, has overshadowed the fun factor. I feel sorry for the kids that taught that winning is the only reason to play. Hopefully someday they’ll have a chance to look back and see that they learned more from the whole experience than just how to win or lose.

I know from watching the t-ball games at the local multi-sport field that fun is still alive and well on the baseball field. I see the joy in the eyes of every boy and girl as they approach the plate and take their cut at the ball. I see their coaches and parents cheering for them, hit or miss, catch or drop. I see the teams cheering for each other, happy to be away from the classroom and their chores at home. I salute the parents that work so hard to bring the joy of baseball to their little boys and girls of summer. You’re doing a wonderful thing. Parents and players - have a great season!