Then & Now: It’s Still Baseball

Once, I could pitch batting practice from 60 feet and throw nuthin but strikes all afternoon. Now I stand behind an L-screen 40 feet away from the hitter and my pitch to the plate has a hump in it.

Back then, I was a magician with a fungo bat. I could hit foul pop-ups to the catcher and rain high flies at will on outfielders in the next county. Now, in outfield practice, hitting out of my hand, I foul three off, and hit a grounder.

This summer, I am helping to coach the Addison County Babe Ruth team of 13-year-old boys. It’s a combined team from Middlebury and Vergennes — and I’m enjoying getting to know these boys in this baseball setting.

My most serious coaching baseball was the 10 years just after my college playing days, long ago, in the 1970s. I was young and smart and confident in those days: criticism rolled off my back, quite sure that I knew more about the game than anyone else.

Now I have my own kids — I’m Peter’s dad — I am less convinced of my own infallibility. So when parents suggest (some more gently than others) that their children are not being treated fairly in playing time or position in the field or line-up, I toss and turn in bed at night thinking of ways to rectify slights, perceived or real.

I’m hardly coaching by myself. Coach Peter, Charlie’s dad, is a terrific teacher. He’s intense and knows the game, and, unlike me, he’s up-to-date. He’s serious about players’ improvement and commitment, and is exuberant without being negative, unless the occasion calls for it — for example, when a player tosses a helmet after striking out.

Coach Graham, Mitch’s dad, is the “manager” and generally organizes things. An assistant principal in his other life, he’s in charge of the line-up. Rigorously fair-minded, he keeps track of playing time. Linda or Craig, parents of David and Matt, keep a meticulous scorebook, a crucial function, ask any coach.

Their collective competence frees me to “attaboy” to my heart’s content. I’m allowed to coach third when we’re at bat. I make like DeMarlo Hale with signs and try hard not to run our team into outs. Don’t overcoach, I tell myself: when in doubt, let ’em hit. I’m an overweight Johnny Pesky.

In the first game we handed out the uniform shirts and they were orange, Middlebury colors. Vergennes is blue. The Vergennes boys were clearly uncomfortable putting on their rival’s colors, but they did it, and now it doesn’t seem to be much of an issue.

This combined-team concept has been an interesting challenge, but is ultimately a very positive part of our team experience, I think all would agree. The relationships that have been formed, awkwardly at first, will continue to be played out, as these skilled young athletes ascend in their sports careers in local schools.

The boys are learning, I trust, that their adversaries in sports are also their friends, their brothers, whose competitive aspiration is identical to their own. I remember in my own play in school growing up in Lewiston, Maine, the pleasure of seeing familiar faces on the Rumford, Edward Little (Auburn), and Morse High (Bath) teams made the games even more special and exciting.

For the adults, the greatest challenge in coaching kids this age (any age really) is how “competitive” to be. How much should we care about winning? What’s fair? Should everyone play the same number of innings, or should those more skilled (and committed to improvement) play more and bat at the top of the order? What’s the right balance?

There are a variety of attitudes among parents and the players themselves. Ideally, you win some games and everyone plays a lot and has fun and learns the value of being on a team that pulls together.

We do keep score.

Fairness to players is complicated by baseball’s unique nature. The line-up is fixed. You can’t substitute willy-nilly, as in other sports. Batters wait their turn to hit, no matter the situation, and, quite simply, players at the bottom of the order get to bat less often.

We have a roster of 15 boys; there are 21 outs in our seven-inning games. You do the math. The permutations seem endless. Not all parents are ecstatic with the decisions we have made, but we have taken seriously issues of fairness.

Unsurprisingly, but to my satisfaction and pleasure, I have found that it’s still baseball, the same game I played and coached. Our team has won some games, some terrific well-played games, in a strong league, with 12 other teams from Bristol, Shelburne/Charlotte, Burlington, South Burlington, Essex, St. Albans, Missisquoi, and Williston (some communities have two teams).

The boys have had fun, I think, while taking the game seriously. We have some highly skilled young players who enjoy the game in an old-fashioned way. The local high school coaches will be glad to see these players on their teams in a few short years.

Time does fly when you’re playing sports.