Tuesday, June 9, 2015
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.
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