All-Stars Doesn't Matter

The kids are out of school, the sun is out, and pools are open.  Incredikids wake up late, play on ipads and phones, and spend their lazy days enjoying some time off to just be kids.  For some kids, they will start that (almost) impossible journey towards a small town in Pennsylvania that hosts a major sporting event every August...the Little League World Series.  These Incredikids, the All-Stars from your town, will sacrifice many days and weeks of unfettered freedom to play the game they love for a few extra weeks, or if they are lucky, a few months.  But this post is for the kids that didn't make the team.

My son recently asked me about my playing all stars, and nothing really stuck out.  I had to dig deep to remember the teams I played on. After thinking about it, I remembered that thirty-one years ago, I didn't make my league's 12 year-old all-star team.  I remember finding out I didn't make it, and wondering how could this happen to me?  I was a very good little leaguer, and it was the only time I didn't make an all-star team until my days in the minors.  I remembered being crushed...for about 27 minutes.  My parents were upset, I was upset, but they reminded me of all that I accomplished that year...probably over some tears.  I woke up the next day and it didn't matter as much.  Two days later, I didn't even think about playing baseball for whatever our league was called in one guaranteed tourney.  I spent the summer playing Marco-Polo at the public pool, playing 9 inning games of strikeout on the Wildwood upper playground with Dave and Adam, and playing epic kick-the-can games with the neighborhood kids until moms starting calling "dinner" and we all scrambled home.  We played so hard we just dropped into bed each night hoping these lazy days would last forever.  Baseball was the last thing I was thinking about when we were taking the bus to the top of town, and then having treacherous 3 mile downhill races back home.  All-Stars didn't matter.

The next three years I made the all-star teams in Babe Ruth, and played with kids from other towns at San Leandro Ball Park.  It was fun, I guess, but I was actually a bit jealous of my friends who were free to continue what we did the summer before.  I remember being picked up at the pool and changing in the car while my friends and great times disappeared behind our wood-paneled station wagon while I was dragged to practice.  I'm not sure the game was even that much fun those years since my best buds were not with me.  Sure, I met some cool kids from other towns, but I couldn't name a single one of them today.  All-Stars didn't matter.

As my Incredikid's summer started this week, he and I have been bachelors for the past three days.  Those days, without baseball, have been three of the best days of my life.  We bobbed in the pool to escape the heat, caught a movie, played golf, played catch with the football and baseball, ordered too much take-out, and even went to watch a different little league play a ball game.  We will find out this weekend if he makes the team, and in all likelihood he will.  He and the kids he competes against all season will band together and dream of playing in PA.  It's going to be fun to watch them close the little league careers they started together so many years ago on the hot, and I'm talking face of the sun here, baseball diamonds in our county.

However, if your kid doesn't make your team, remind them that it doesn't matter what you do when you are 10, 11, or 12.  Baseball's can still be thrown in backyards, minor league games are just a short car ride and a few bucks away, and there are plenty of chances to sit down and enjoy the game as father/mother/son/daughter.  Baseball is about listening to Bill King on an AM radio spinning heroic tales of the Swing'n A's on a summer night.  It's about the crack of the bat, trading cards, and backyard whiffle ball games pretending its the bottom of the 9th with 2 outs in the World Series. 

If you kid didn't make the team, he or she will feel bad for a moment.  It's okay to for them to be mad, but this game isn't about all-stars.  Make sure you don't get mad too.  It's not your place, no one is trying to screw your kid over, cut his career short, or harm his reputation.  Maybe your Incredikid is a good at-bat away from impressing the coaches, or maybe he or she is just not good enough...this year at least.  Don't blame the coaches, the league, and for damn sure don't act like he or she should have played harder or better.  It's not about you at all.  This game is about the feel of the glove snagging a ball, the smell of the pine-tar on your bat, and the struggle of trying to master an impossible game.  It's about family, friends, and hot dogs.  All of those things don't require all-star status.  It's okay for a few tears to be shed, but remind your player that baseball is about much so more than a few extra games and another team hat.  All-Stars doesn't matter.

I can tell you from personal experience that your child's high school career, chance of at playing in college, or even getting drafted by an MLB team does not depend on making the 12 year-old all-star team.  Remind your player that baseball is so much bigger than a few weeks this summer, and to never give up on their dreams.  Just for the fun of it, you can tell your Incredikid that no one from my league's all-star team made it anywhere near as far as I did in baseball...all-stars really doesn't matter.

Travel Ball...That Smile Inducing, Weekend Stealing, Well Worth it Time Suck

I'm a multi-sport advocate.  I don't believe in specializing for kids, and I've talked to many coaches at the highest levels and they don't believe it in either.  The only coaches that want year round anything for kids are AAU/travel coaches looking to make money off you, or selfish d-bag high school coaches whose only interest is their record.  We'll visit the concept of specialization in another post.  This post is about playing lots of sports...all at once!

This past weekend marked our first foray into the world of travel baseball.  Incredikid has always shown a propensity for the game.  It was my game, and because of that, I've tried not to push him towards the sport in which I had the most success.  I've said "no" when asked if we could guest play on travel ball teams, told Incredikid I would not allow him to play travel anything...up until now.  I caved, and it was the best weekend ever. 

Incredikid has played AAU basketball, and while it's competitive, it's certainly not a crazy schedule.  They play about as many games as we did in Rec-ball growing up, but they have shiny uniforms, better coaching, and better competition.  They play locally, and get a bit more than they would playing true Rec.  The result...they are way better than we were at that age.  Are any of them going to the NBA because of it?  Heck no, but they have fun, look cool, and think they are budding stars.

However, I had concerns about travel baseball.

First, I was worried about too many games. I had heard what I consider horror stories of kids playing 60+ baseball games a year.  Not only does it violate my rule of play everything you want until you can't play it anymore (its impossible to play 60+ games and play anything else), but it's just a lot of baseball games.  I can remember the great relief after the college baseball season ended (about 60 games in all) knowing I had some time off before summer-ball started.  Just being a student, and not a student-athlete, was a refreshing experience even if only for a month.  Baseball fatigue is a real thing, and it's great to rest arms (and knees for us catchers), and hangout by the Rec Pool on a well-earned break.  For a kid to play 60 games...I just feel it's nuts, but if the kid truly enjoys it, then shoot, if he's not going to play anything else then more power to him (just protect his/her arm please). 

Second, I was worried about being spread too thin.  With winter baseball and basketball, Incredikid is going pretty close to 6 days a week.  The funny thing is, after living it, the parents were the the only ones who got tired.  For example, after 5 days of practice in a row (in one sport or the other), Incredikid asked for "extra-work" at the batting cage on Friday.  This was his only day off last week, and he wanted to go hit?  I dragged myself to go throw some batting practice after work wondering if I was losing it.  Friday night, I walked in to see two uniforms neatly laid out on his bedroom floor ready to be packed in the car. So far so good, instead of playing on the iPad he was laying out his gear, something strange is going on here.  On Sunday morning, when we had to leave the house at 6:30 am to get to the first baseball game (one of two that day), I wandered half asleep down the hall bummed to have to wake him up only to find him sitting in bed waiting for me.  He was ready to get up, get dressed, and get rolling.  Wait...this is the kid that will sleep till Noon if we would let him, and he's up at 6:00 a.m. on a Sunday?  Who is this kid, and what have you done with Incredikid? 

Third, I was worried playing too many games feeling like work.  Playing in the minors was work.  It doesn't sound like it, but playing 29 of 30 days, riding buses, eating on $15 per day, and staying in worse-than-Motel-6's was work.   After my first season of work, I didn't really love the game anymore...it was a job. I don't want Incredikid to feel like any sport is a job.  Sport is fun, and unless you ever get paid to do it, you play purely for joy.  Sure, there are times when fun sports are work.  I hated conditioning, with a passion, during my sports years, but the games always made it worthwhile. Is the preparation part is worth the fun, that's a question you should ask your kid.  I have always thought this was the case with Incredikid, but I got my answer on Sunday night.  Sunday night before bed, after six games, two round-trips to two cross-town venues, changing/eating in the car, and getting up before the roosters he looked at me and said, "that was the best weekend ever."  He literally passed out asleep  minutes later with a smile on his face...I knew then it wasn't work!

We will continue down this path of multi-sports as long as he loves it.  Is it a sacrifice for Superdad and Wondermom?  Yup. We were both exhausted when we got home from game 6 and took early evening naps.  We're already bummed that have only six more years left with him at home, and I'm going to treasure every minute.  Sharing a ride to and from sports, reminicing about a shot, pitch, or swing in the evening while he dreams of tomorrow is just about the best thing ever.

What about Incredikid after the weekend...was he too exhausted?  Well, after we dropped on the couch Sunday, he changed and came bounding down the stairs to go outside and play an "epic" semi-dark touch football game with his buds (there was a heated instant replay discussion about whether a receiver's foot was on the curb or out for the game winner).  So while he might have been whipped, based on the look on his face as he sprinted out the door, he was amazingly satisfied.  That look, of pure satisfaction and joy, will keep me driving, cheering, and early-evening napping for as long as he wants.