In New Haven, CT (coincidently home to one of my best friends) there is a nine year old. His name is Jericho Scott. Jericho plays baseball, and he's damn good. Jericho throws 40 miles an hour and now league officials are telling him he can no longer pitch because it's unfair.
League officials say that it's unfair to the other players, which makes me call shenanigans.
It's the product of the new, "Everybody's a winner" mentality. Which is absolutely absurd. Guess, what life is unfair, you're going to strike out. You're going to fail, you're going to lose games, you're not going to get every job you apply for, every girl you ask out isn't going to say yes. This is what we in the real world call part of life, an unfortunate part of life, but a part of life all the same.
I am by no means a good baseball player. I love the game, but I am at best a streaky hitter and a solid fielder. But I used to play baseball on a draft league team, and we were terrible. I played a motley assortment of positions, but mostly outfield, because I wasn't big enough to have a strong presence in the infield, and I wasn't as good as some of the other guys. The point is I played. I went up to bat and took my cuts and I sat down. I learned about life. Mostly from my Dad who served as coach one year because he happened to be at try outs when they said, "if someone else doesn't step up there's only going to be one team this year."
My Dad has taught me an innumerable amount of things over the years. But one lesson I think I learned the hardest was his philosophy that games, sports, are for everyone. Everyone on our team that year got to bat at every game. Including the last one. I was on deck, there were two outs and Shawn hadn't batted yet. My Dad realized this and just looked at me, and I knew what needed to be done. I walked back into the dugout. That was that. I was upset at the time, but looking back I learned that it's not about winning. Not at that level anyway.
All of that is to say that little league isn't about winning.
It's about fair play. Not about parents trying to recapture their youth, or win that championship they never got. Is it fair that he throws heat like Nolan Ryan in a sandbox? No, but guess what it's not fair that I like to play basketball and I'm not 6'8".
It's about sportsmanship. It's about learning the rules. It's about developing a love of the game. It's about children learning that they should give their best, and how to be part of a team; how to win with honor and loose with grace. It's about learning to shake hands after the game.
Not about winning or losing. Not about telling an incredibly talented individual that they can't play because they're just "too good."
Telling Jericho that he's too good is absolutely absurd. It's no different than telling a running back he's to fast. Or a gymnast that their balance is to good. Now granted, he is astonishingly talented, and maybe he shouldn't pitch. But if he wants to pitch then he should be allowed to.
If this is the generation that we are raising I have serious questions to ask about the state of our society. Baseball is a game. At the end of a game their are losers, but at the end of the day, hopefully everyone learned something. And hopefully we aren't teaching our children that the best way to win, or to get your way, is to throw a fit and walk off the field, but rather to say how can I become better? How can I get that good? Answer: Hard work, perseverance, and proper guidance.
It is my sincere hope that Jericho gets to pitch against kids his own age again very soon. And I hope he sits everyone of them down. And I pray that their parents are there to say, "You did a great job, but it's just a game. Now go shake his hand, look him in the eye, and say, 'good job.'"
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