EVERYTHING
FOR YOUR FAMILY
Editor's Note
|
||||
|
Roger Ebert is a Pulitzer Prize-winning film critic. And, when you watch him on TV, the last image that comes to mind is a sporting star. In fact, as a child, he was a failed athlete. That may sound cruel, but youth sports plays to cruelty. In a review he wrote last year about the remake of “Bad News Bears,” he had this to say about then: “They revived my own childhood memories of Little League, which I hated; it was a meritocracy in which good players were heroes and I was pointed toward right field with the hope that I would just keep on walking. Well, of course it was a meritocracy. Sports involves winning, and winning involves skills. What I could never figure out was how some kids had always been good at sports and others would never be any good, no matter how hard they tried: Kids like me, so near-sighted that the approach of a ball had to be described to me by teammates.” I’ll remember Ebert’s words this month, when I become a Little League manager for a second time. Last year, the coach-pitch division had the best rule of all – you don’t keep score. This year, in Single-A machine pitch, keeping score means that wins and losses become part of the equation. Rather than just stick the kids in right field who remind people of Ebert, we’ll give those who start the game in that otherwise God-forsaken position the honor of being our first hitter – the leadoff guy. I’ll try to follow the path my pastor preaches about everyday life: It’s OK for the child to be afraid of the dark, but you have to worry about the coach who doesn’t see the light. For some time now – since the end of last Little League season – I’ve been rehearsing the parent-night speech that precedes the first practice of a new year. I will explain that, on my team, it’s a group of 12 stars, not three standouts. Team competition, some Little League managers have forgotten, is about finding the strength of the team by fueling the weakest of the bunch. Funny thing about 8-year-olds, the age group that I will oversee this season: It is impossible to know how they’ll turn out. World Series hero? Maybe. Pulitzer Prize winner like Roger Ebert? Possible. I’ll be on the lookout for the child who tries his best; heck, I’ll draft him and I will pump him up and tell him he’s great. Will he believe he’s great? That doesn’t really matter. What a manager should do is work hard at bringing out the smile, and even harder to avoid the tear. |
||||
RSS Subscribe
Digg This ArticleSEARCH THE SITE
