I'm not cut out for this....
I have determined that I am not the kind of Club or Travel Baseball mom that I’m supposed to be. I was not prepared for the level of smug most of these parents exude. So far, the kids seem alright, but the parents! Man. You hear stories about Club Ball and Travel Ball; about umpires and coaches; you hear how kids are bullied or parents buying access; you hear about fights and yelling; you hear about the cost; and when you hear about these things its usually someone telling you about how these are the things destroying sports.
But I, humbly, disagree. In my limited research and experience, I think those destroying the environment are the parents.
Again, my experience is limited. Zack is not, nor has he been, on a club or travel ball team. We’ve let him choose his path, which always ends up being rec league with his friends. He is now playing on his school’s baseball team, which is full of club and travel ball kids who play teams that are full of club and travel ball kids. And, of course, whose parents all attend games and loudly criticize adolescent children.
His school team started at the beginning of August and there I was, as naïve as one mom could be. My mindset fell into “alright, let’s have some fun,” which I quickly found out was not the correct mindset. No one cheered. No one clapped. Even when their kid did something worth cheering or clapping for. No one, except my loud ass, clapping and occasionally yelling obnoxious things like “nice” or the very controversial “good eye.”
Zack earned his spot on the team, mostly as an alternate. The team is 5th through 8th graders, so the older kids get a majority of the playing time. This was alright with us. We told Zack that the hardest spot on the team was bench, but that there was something to be learned there. He has shown great humility and patience as he bides his time. But, then came game one….
Zack was told that he’d be on the bench this game, unless the starting catcher needed a break. It was 111 degrees out, with no shade, so he was hopeful he’d get a shot. Well, the catcher showed up without a cup and just like that, game one, Zack got his shot. He was terrified. All of the kids he was playing with were older, taller and I’m pretty sure one kid might have been a college student! But Zack stuck it out. He was so hot. He was tired. He was scared. But, he settled in and did an excellent job at stopping the ball. He quickly shut down third base thinking they could steal on an over throw. He got three outs at home and a beautiful play to first for an out – on a dropped third strike.
I was proud of my boy. I cheered. Then, as I was taking Lauren to the restroom, I came across Catcher 1’s parents, who were fuming. Were they mad that their son had forgotten his cup? Were they holding him accountable for his failure to come prepared? Nope. They were mad that my son was playing (they didn’t know I was his mom when I walked by). They were mad, and I quote, that the coach didn’t make Zack give their son his cup to use.
Let me say that again. Catcher 1’s parents wanted my son to give his cup to their son, so that their son could play.
First of all, GROSS! Like, you nasty! Like, reeeallll nasty!
Second of all, how about you teach your kid some responsibility and accountability. What would I do, you ask? I’d make my kid ride the bench and when he complained about it, I would tell him to make sure that next time when he steps on that field, that he is prepared. I would tell him that it’s not “my” baseball game; it’s not “my” equipment; it’s not “my” position; hence, its not “my” problem. But I’m kind of a mean mom.
When we got back to our seats I felt sad. I felt sad for Zack, who was struggling out there. I felt bad for that other kid because if his parents were so loudly bashing the coach and Zack, then this kid was going to hear it the whole ride home. I just felt sad. It was not the kind of baseball I was used to.
Over the next few games…
v I saw a dad from another team scream at an umpire about a call and then be kicked off campus. As he left, he continued to curse and shout, which was real great as he walked next to the playground full of little kids.
v I have heard a group of parents (from the other team) talk serious trash about almost every player on their team. Like, when one kid came up to bat, they all audibly groaned, then proceeded to talk about his batting average. I’m no expert but the kid got a hit at every at bat, I wouldn’t complain about that!
v I overheard some of our team parents talk about buying a $500 baseball bat but instead getting the $700 one because that one will “fix his swing and make him a hitter.” Ahhh, I hate to be the bearer of bad news, but if you can’t hit the ball with $25 Walmart bat, you’re not going to hit shit with a $700 Hype bat (or whatever it was!). It’s not the bat, it’s the swing sweetheart!
v I was told that if I didn’t get Zack into private, one on one, personal coaching at least twice a week, then he was not going to get anywhere, especially into college. I smiled politely and shook my head, all while thinking, “well, there’s always academics.”
v I overheard parents talking about how exhausted they are and how mad they are that they have to force their son to go to this or that. One dad removed the PS5 from the house because the kid wanted to play madden instead of going to his Speed and Mobility class.
v I was given the biggest death stare when I clapped – like two small, low claps – for a kid on the other team who had hit a homerun. I know I’m not supposed to do that, but come on, he’s a kid! And he hit a homerun!
I feel so much pressure to get Zack into this coaching or that class. He has been invited to play on two club teams and he’s always elected to stick with rec league. But then I’m left wondering if that’s hurting him. I felt panicked. I felt like I’d let him down. I felt like he was behind. I felt conflicted.
Then, I went to preschool drop off and talked to Lauren’s teacher – who was also Zack’s preschool teacher. She has four sons, all who played club and travel ball. We talked about the environment and the pressure. It felt good to know that I wasn’t just sensitive or crazy. These parents are intense. She told me that it was because of all the pressure and how the fun got sucked out of the game for her sons – and a lot of their friends – that they all eventually stopped playing. She said her youngest told her that it felt like a job to play and that’s when they pulled the plug.
Then, my heart settled on what I’d always known and I decided to keep doing what I’ve always done. I told myself that I am his mom, not his sports agent. My job isn’t to raise a baseball player, it’s to raise a man. So, when he complains that we’re going roller skating instead of to the batting cages, I tell him what I always tell him…
Someday, baseball will end. Maybe you’ll play through high school; maybe you’ll be lucky enough to play college; maybe you’ll be even luckier and play in the minors; or maybe you’ll be in that 1% who makes it to the pros. But no matter when, it will end and you need to know that there is so much more to life. There are so many fun things to do and experience.
We’ve been given lots of advice on what to do with Zack and how to develop his talent. We’ve been told to get out of rec league; to get him private lessons; for Tim to stop coaching him (more on this next time); we’ve been told to make him do this or that; we’ve been told that he won’t make this team or that team; we’ve been told he’s too little; people have told him that he won’t ever make it to the pros; he’s been told that he won’t make a high school team; we’ve been told to push him; we’ve been told to make him practice more – which is very difficult because that’s all he does!
This is where I step away. This is his journey. I will help him as best I can, but I will not destroy his pure love for the game by turning it into a job. So, even though we’ve been told we’re doing it wrong and we’re not helping him develop, we let him choose what he wants to do; what team he wants to play for. We set up parameters – like, AFTER you get hit in the elbow THEN we’ll talk about getting an elbow guard *If only you could see my eye roll on this topic! - Or we commit to one team at a time and we see it through to the end.
We tell him, what I feel is becoming the most taboo thing in baseball, and that is, as long as he is having fun playing, then that’s what matters….