Friday, August 11, 2006

This May Be Callous

And you may hate me, but I have to make a comment on this.

I feel for the kid and all he went through. I really do. But, I have news for everyone who is upset about this. It's the way the game is played. What the coach did was not compassionate, that's true. But his job is not to make sure that the next kid playing feels good. Even if that kid has cancer. Do I feel sorry for him? Yes. Do I think the coach made the right call? Absolutely. Was it callous? Sure was. But he was playing the game as the game is played. If any other kid had been on deck, I bet he would have made the same choice.

What did the other team expect, anyway? That having a cancer patient in that slot on the order meant they deserve to win?

Someone said, what are we teaching our kids? To pick on the weakest?

In this case, I have to say "no". You're teaching your kids to play fucking baseball, not become a traveling monk and heal the psyche of the sick. Losing is part of baseball and an intentional walk is part of the game. A smart part of the game in that case.

You know what we need to stop teaching our kids? That everyone wins and that you can leave every situation a winner. It's not true, and we're not doing our kids any good by teaching them that it doesn't happen. What's next? Don't pitch to the kids with ADD? Don't strike out the kid with poor depth perception? That kid has esteem issues?

I feel sorry for the kid and his family for the battle with cancer. But, that doesn't mean that he deserves special treatment in the championship game, with the game on the line. That's bullshit. If anything, the kid learned that sometimes you're a hero, sometimes you're not. Even better, read the end of the story. That little guy learned a lot more from losing than he would have from winning. Now he wants to be a better player. Good for him.

But don't insult him and pander to his weakness. Why rub his weakness in his face? Seriously? It's his mountain to overcome and if you remove all obstacles, he will always have weakness. Ask Lance Armstrong.

What if he had driven in the game-winning run? What would we be talking about then? I think those that are trying to protect him from heartbreak, or the opportunity for greatness, are doing him a great disservice.

In fact, I think he's the winner here and I'm extremely impressed with his attitude. He's striving to be a better hitter now. He's not taking defeat as the end. He's rising up, dusting himself off and moving on to greater glory. Too bad the adults around him can't do that.

As Nuke LaLoosh once said, "A good friend of mine used to say, 'This is a very simple game. You throw the ball, you catch the ball, you hit the ball. Sometimes you win, sometimes you lose, sometimes it rains.' Think about that for a while."

8 comments:

  1. Don't hate you man. I think far too many kids don't know how to lose, sick or not. They don't know how to work for what they want, sick or not. It's a baseball game not a movie of the week.

    Now they can hate me too.

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  2. Anonymous6:31 AM

    I just gotta disagree. They should have put pitcher against batter and seen if their pitcher could beat the better hitter. Your not rubbing anyone's weakness in anyone's face when you go and compete head to head.

    The league's about fun and not a whole lot else. This kid will hit the competition ceiling at some point pretty darn soon and that'll be where he stops but in a game of 9 and 10 year olds you can just have fun I think. The bigger thing in my mind is that the coaches dishonored the spirit of competition by taking the easy way out. I have to say, as a competitor, the coaches would have lost a lot of respect in my eyes.

    Just my two cents.

    The Physicist

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  3. Anonymous7:42 AM

    But you can keep saying that. At 16 he was about to top out. In high school he had no chance of playing in college.

    In a normal season game, I would probably agree with you. However, this coach wasn't thinking about the one kid. He was thinking of the 20 that he had worked with, that had worked hard to get to that moment.

    Perhaps it was the easy way out, but I still argue that, while not nice, it was ethical. But I'm still not seeing it as an attack on this kid or an exploit to his weakness. It was a legit call to make. A runner didn't plow him down at home. They pitched the ball to him. And if the kid hadn't had cancer, no one would be talking about it. And peole are welcome to lose respect for the coach, but they've dragged him into the national media spotlight over a decision made in the heat of a little league game not over a decision that he mulled for months that resulted in the loss of lives.

    I still say this kid could have driven in that run. You never know. Being underestimated can sometimes be the thing that drives you. And I still say that he's the one who learned more from the experience than anyone else. He's not making excuses.

    Not that it makes me want to actually watch baseball, though.

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  4. I think it all comes down to intentional walks and that they are crap. It's unsportsmanlike and shouldn't be allowed in baseball, and especially not Little League. Intentional walks are crap.

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  5. I agree. Intentional walks are crap. Let them compete completely...let him have a chance to hit the ball. He wants to be a regular kid. Let him be. It's really hard to believe the coach didn't know about the cancer. And, seriously...if he coached him in basketball, he should know the kid a little bit by now. Enough to know that being given a chance is more important to the kid.

    Winning isn't the point. Being allowed to try, and to fail, is.
    IMHO

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  6. Anonymous7:20 AM

    May I submit the following true story from Dr. Wayne Dyer's book, The Power of Intention, in which he uses an example of physical activity in describing the importance of belonging, one of the most important aspects of human existence. It's a touching story that demonstrates how a simple act of acceptance can make such a tremendous difference in one child's life and in one father's life."

    In Brooklyn, New York, Chush is a school that caters to learning-disabled children. Some children remain in Chush for their entire school career, while others can be mainstreamed into conventional school. At a Chush fundraiser dinner, the father of a Chush child delivered a speech that would never be forgotten by all who attended. After praising the school and its dedicated staff, he cried out, "Where is the perfection in my son, Shaya" Everything God does is done with perfection. But my child cannot understand things as other children do. My child cannot remember facts and figures as other children do. Where is God's perfection?" The audience was shocked by the question, pained by the father's anguish, and stilled by the piercing query. "I believe," the father answered, "that when God brings a child like this into the world, the perfection that he seeks is in the way people react to this child."

    He then told the following story about his son, Shaya.

    One afternoon, Shaya and his father walked past a park where some boys Shaya knew were playing baseball. Shaya asked, "Do you think they'll let me play?" Shaya's father knew that his son was not at all athletic and that most boys would not want him on their team. But Shaya's father understood that if his son was chosen to play, it would give him a sense of belonging. Shaya's father approached one of the boys on the field and asked if Shaya could play. The boy looked around for guidance from his teammates. Getting none, he took matters into his own hands and said, "We're losing by six runs, and the game is in the eighth inning. I guess he can be on our team, and we'll try to put him up in the ninth inning."

    Shaya's father was ecstatic as Shaya smiled broadly. Shaya was told to put on a glove and go out to play in center field. In the bottom of the eighth inning, Shaya's team scored a few runs but was still behind by three. In the bottom of the ninth inning, Shaya's team scored again, and now had two outs and the bases loaded, with the potential winning run on base. Shaya was scheduled to be up. Would the team actually let Shaya bat at this juncture and give away their chance to win the game?

    Surprisingly, Shaya was given the bat. Everyone knew that it was all but impossible because Shaya didn't even know how to hold the bat, let alone hit with it. However, as Shaya stepped up to the plate, the pitcher moved a few steps to lob the ball in softly so Shaya could at least be able to make contact. The first pitch came in, and Shaya swung clumsily and missed. One of Shaya's teammates came up to Shaya, and together they held the bat and faced the pitcher waiting for the next pitch. The pitcher again took a few steps forward to toss the ball softly toward Shaya. As the pitcher came in, Shaya and his teammate swung the bat, and together they hit a slow ground ball to the pitcher. The pitcher picked up the soft grounder and could easily have thrown the ball to the first baseman. Shaya would have been out and that would have ended the game. Instead, the pitcher took the ball and threw it on a high arc to right field far beyond the reach of the first baseman. Everyone started yelling, "Shaya, run to first. Run to first." Never in his life had Shaya run to first. He scampered down the baseline wide-eyed and startled. By the time he reached first base, the right fielder had the ball. He could have thrown the ball to the second baseman who would tag out Shaya, who was still running!!

    But the right field understood what the pitcher's intentions were, so he threw the ball high and far over the third baseman's head. Everyone yelled, "Run to second, run to second!" Shaya ran toward second base as the runners ahead of him deliriously circled the bases toward home. As Shaya reached second base, the opposing shortstop turned him in the direction of third base, and shouted, "Run to third." As Shaya rounded third, the boys from both teams ran behind him screaming, "Shaya, run home." Shaya ran home, stepped on home plate, and all 18 boys lifted him on their shoulders and made him the hero, as he had just hit a 'grand slam' and won the game for his team.

    "That day," said the father softly with tears now rolling down his face, "those 18 boys reached their level of God's perfection"

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  7. This is a tough one. All I know is that when you keep score then it has to become about winning or losing. It's just nature. It's no longer about "just the kids" It becomes about everyone involved - the coaches, players, and umpires. If they were playing scrub ball then this is a non-issue. But they kept score. Therefore someone has to lose. and the weaker team lost. Why did the other coach have the weakest hitter hitting behind their best? Because it was just for fun? No - they were keeping score so it was about winning.

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  8. Anonymous4:30 PM

    In the story about Shaya, that was likely his one and only chance to play. The other kids made his dream come true and it was an incredibly precious gift. Kids can be cruel but they can also humble you by their compassion.

    But this article was about a kid playing on a regular competitive team in a competitive league, not a neighborhood sandlot game. The coach has to think about the whole team and the outcome of the game. What if the kid didn't have cancer? What if he was just the team's worst player and the coach knew it? He'd have done the same thing. If you play competitive sports you have to accept that the other team is not going to make allowances for you - they're in it to win. If you can't deal with that, then you shouldn't play.

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