Published: May 13, 2007 05:36 pm            

Defending the integrity of the game

Somerset — I made my way out of the spacious dugout and headed to the on-deck circle.

The grass on the field was a lush green turf that was mowed to perfection. The white chalked foul lines stretched out to the outfield home run fences that must have been at least 500 feet deep.

As I made my journey to home plate there must have been at least 50,000 people in the stands behind me cheering. I looked at the scoreboard, that was probably 100-feet high and 30 feet wide, to see the score was tied in the bottom of the ninth inning.

I stepped into the batter’s box and banged my Louisville Slugger bat against the bottom of my cleats, just like I had seen my favorite major leaguer do on TV.

As I planted my feet towards the back of the box and wagged my bat behind right ear, I starred at the opposing pitcher that stood about seven-feet tall. His warm-up pitches looked as if they were traveling at speeds of over 100-miles per hour.

The year was 1972 and that was my youthful perception as a Burnside Little Leaguer playing in my first all-star game at G.E. Field. I felt like I was Pete Rose playing before a packed house in Riverfront Stadium playing for the 1971 World Series Major League Championship.

The reality was that I was playing at the small G.E., then Little League, Field that had a small scoreboard, two sets of small bleachers that probably seated about 30 people, the fences were about 200-feet in length, the opposing pitcher stood just over four-feet tall and threw pitches in the neighborhood of 35 miles per hour, and the only two people cheering for me were my mom and dad.

On top of that, my team got beat in a 10-0 blowout.

But I never recall that truthful reality of the situation — just the exciting feeling I had as a young baseball player playing in the biggest game of my life.

And no matter what you say, I still believe there was 50,000 people cheering for me to hit that giant pitcher that was throwing 100-mile per hour fastballs.

And believe it or not, most young players have that same perception of their Little League, or Cal Ripken, experiences.

Isn’t that what little league baseball is all about?

Over the past several years covering youth baseball games, I have seen great kids enjoying their baseball dreams and I have seen their parents cheering and encouraging on their little major leaguers.

But I have also seen a few ugly incidents between adult coaches that have led to heated words and physical confrontations.

Granted these incidents are few in number, but just one takes away from the youthful perception of the game.

Like myself, the kids are not going to remember if they won by 10 runs or lost by 20 runs — they just remember the game and the feeling of standing at home plate with all eyes upon them.

So why do we, as adults, try to take the game so seriously and get caught up in heated arguments over pitch counts, inside pitches or wins and losses.

None of that matters.

What matters is the game — not what happens in the game.

So please don’t take away from the kids’ youthful perception of the great game of baseball.

        

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