Where the Sideline Ends...

I never could resist a pun. It's doubtful you'll find a Shel Silverstein reference on a sports dedicated blog, but here they are. I could go on for hours about what fans are (or aren't) entitled to, what professional athletes do (or don't deserve.) And I did. Even without the guidance of my editor, I took a time out and went to the bullpen...which is where I was wanting to go in the first place.

Baseball. Love it. I've been a fan. Well, I was, then I wasn't, then I was, but, oh well, never mind. I had missed the game. I missed my brother too. I hadn't seen him in 3 years and I hadn't cared much about the game for the better part of the last 25. But 2017 would be different.

I took a vacation in April. Since my wife and kids would still be in school for a few days before Spring Break began, I thought I'd make the 500-plus mile jaunt up to Pennsylvania to visit family. Besides that, I'd be around the Philly sports I lived and died with growing up, with another hometown team the Lehigh Vally Ironpigs. It was a shame I wasn't going to make opening night, so I'd have to settle on taking my brother to their second game the following night.

It was a horrible drive up. The weather got worse the closer I got. By the time I checked into my hotel in Allentown, I was ready to just go to bed, but, well one more check of the day's scores. As luck would have it, my brother, PJ,  and I would be attending the home opener after all. That night's game was rained out.

So Friday, April 7, 2017 we went to see the Ironpigs. It was cold. Mid-40s. It was still wettish. It's  exactly the kind of weather where if you don't want to REALLY be doing something, you would have stayed home. And a number of empty seats reflected that statement. It was an eventful game though, 14-7, although not in favor of my hometown Pigs, and I did get get a foul home run distance ball. But the best part of the game came around the 5th inning.

Despite having some very good seats. PJ and I had been moving throughout Coca-Cola Park since the bottom of the 3rd. The bathrooms and the club's shop were the only warm places anywhere. We went out to right field during the 4th and each grabbed a beer at the concession stand out there. No matter where we stood, we couldn't seem to get away from the wind, which was making the cold seem more unbearable. About half-way through our cups I pointed to the stands out in left field. I thought there was a spot we could try

Shortly after finding what appeared to be the one spot sans wind, one of the Lehigh Valley pitchers started to get loose in the bullpen located down below where we stood. Venditte was the name on the back of the jersey. I was focused on watching him as my brother took turns between game action, the pen and just generally looking around the park. I only remember a few throws with his right arm, and I did notice that his glove seemed rather large.

I took the last gulp to finish my beer and when I viewed Venditte this time, he popped the glove throwing with his left arm. I watched another pitch with the left and nudged my brother.

"Wasn't he throwing righty?" I said.
"How many have you had?" he said, looking down at my cup.
We both paused and glanced back toward the pen.
"I think?" he added questioningly.
I carefully counted the fingers on Venditte's glove. One, two, three, four, five, SIX?! It looked like 6.
"Give me a program," I called as I reached for my brother's jacket pockets.
Flip, flip, flip, through the pages.
"Dude, he's a switch-pitcher!" I said as elbowed PJ.

We watched in awe, appreciating a rare moment. And then it got better. Pat Venditte entered the game in the 6th, eventually ending the inning with a strikeout. He threw the 7th righty as well. During the 8th inning, he came out lefty, walked a batter and switched back to right-handed. A double play, started by Venditte and another strikeout ended the inning, and his 2 1/3 innings on the mound.

I've never looked at a box score that indicated which arm the pitcher would be throwing with until this one. Check out the game logs for the 6th and 8th innings and see for yourself.

So, not to Ron White you, but, I told you that story, to tell you this story...

I hadn't been this excited about baseball in almost 25 years. I had to take my kids to see another game. As luck would have it, The Ironpigs played in the International League with Charlotte and Durham, both within a 3-hour drive from home for me, with Durham being closer.

Fate determined the date, July 20th against the Bulls in Durham. My kids would be flying back into Raleigh on the 19th and I would be able to get off work, my wife and I could meet them and take in the game the next night.

I was a nice night for a ballgame, but we'll go short on this one. Pat was never put in, but he did warm-up the left fielder one inning, throwing the first with the right before going all left after that. However, the game wasn't the best part.

We were on the 3rd base side near the bullpen. I specifically selected those seats so we'd be near the Lehigh Valley players, where Venditte might be seen up close and the potential for foul balls. Well, didn't get at ball, at least, not during the game. After the game was over, people were making their way out through the rows, slowly and courteously. This one dad was there with his adorable little girl. I think every player that walked by them gave them a game ball, truthfully, it was something like four. Anyway, as the dad headed past us, he glanced at my son and said something very nice (I don't remember exactly) and handed me one of the game balls which I passed on to my son.

I knew I had to work fast. I quickly grabbed my IronPigs logo Sharpie from my pocket and headed one row down to be at the edge of the field, beginning to yell, "Pat, Pat" toward Venditte, who was heading toward the dugout from the bullpen. Grandma chimed in with yelling as well. Luckily we got his attention and he came over, as I moved my son in front of me while he held the ball.

It was a perfect night. My son, who I can hardly get to wear any team gear to sporting events, was wearing his IronPigs t-shirt. My team won (first one of those I saw in 4 tries, so I can apparently only go to away games). And we got Pat Venditte's autograph on a game ball.

It was a night that validates your fandom, when a rare person with unique skills takes the time for a boy and his dad that enjoy a simple game.

Thank you Pat Venditte and Lehigh Valley IronPigs for making some great memories for us in 2017.

The luck of the draw

Sometimes it rains...

"Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Sometimes it rains." Did you think about it? Did it inspire you to dust off that old Bull Durham DVD and watch it again? I couldn't find mine but that's my problem.

Anyway, sometimes you win, and you get to watch a great coach at work with your youngsters. The children are actively engaged with learning their sport, developing their skills and hunger for more. But I fear that many experience those seasons that they feel will never end. Your child gets little playing time, the coach isn't involved with the players and nobody seems to be learning or showing signs of improvement.

Disclaimer Alert. I am not talking about my kids' coaches. My daughter (and I) have been very fortunate to have some very good coaches during her entire time playing soccer and softball. She doesn't play soccer anymore and I was her coach for most of that time, but her coaches have been great. I'm not saying that I haven't found myself getting involved when I saw one of them miss a teachable moment or disagreed with their decisions. But that's life. I am at a place now where when I feel the coach in me coming out, I walk away. I don't have to do that now (but umpires are still a different story for me.) My son has had mixed results, but he isn't always interested in sports and is drawn to more academic pursuits in general. I must admit I'm still trying to figure that one out and I'll address that in another blog entry.

But, when it rains, it's time for re-directing your energies. If you're ever searching for some inspirational sports quotes, check out some attributed to Martina Navratilova, because some of hers are great, others downright eye-opening. Let me treat you to one:

"The mark of great sportsmen is not how good they are at their best, but how good they are their worst."

It's not the end of the world.

How many times have we heard the story about Michael Jordan being cut as a high school freshman (although he was a JV superstar so the slight to his ability is really more perception than reality, see this Yahoo article) or how Tom Brady didn't play organized football until he entered high school? They both worked out alright. Granted, they have raw ability that can't be taught, but they work hard too. I'm just trying to say that you don't have to hang up your 9-year-old's cleats because they got stuck with a certain coach.

Case in point. Remember the 2001 Tampa Bay Buccaneers? While Tony Dungy is widely-regarded as a players' coach and a teacher, it was John Gruden that swept in, making key personnel moves and defeating his former team in Super Bowl XXXVII. But sometimes you lose, you're the 2001 Bucs, and it's up to you as a parent and your young player to work on their game without guidance from their coach.

Disclaimer Alert. I am not advocating going against your kid's coach. Let me say that again. I am not advocating going against your kid's coach. However, if your child isn't hitting and their coach is offering no instruction (i.e. "keep your eye on the ball" is the best they're getting) then you need to get some outside help and probably set up a net and tee in the backyard.

This is the time to see if your young player is interested in really understanding the game. If they are good with sitting on the bench or hanging out on the field in whichever position their coach deems least significant, you might want to ask them what they're really interested in spending time doing and shift gears before you start blowing money on that new $300 bat that just came out. If this is what they want to do then it's time to go to work (but hold off on buying that expensive equipment just the same for right now.)

Players build character

Players build character, not coaches. Coaches can kill or enhance a player's character by how they handle their players and their team, but player's choose to follow their own path by how they react to obstacles. Got a bad coach? That's an obstacle, but again, it's not the end of the world.

Ever had a bad boss? Have you seen good companies and good leaders fail because of poor employees or a bad business decicion? There are great schools with poor teachers and terrible schools with outstanding ones. If you're in rec ball, this is just one season to make the best of and hopefully the coach's son or daughter is moving up to the next age group and you can get a better replacement. If you're in travel ball, it might be time to find another team.

So, now we go back to the Navratilova quote...and MJ. The flu-game in '97. Michael Jordan will be widely regarded for a long time as the greatest player to ever play the game of basketball. But one of the things he is most remembered for is the playoff game against the Jazz in June of 1997. He was visibly drained, almost human that day. Yet, he found a way to rise above his physical malaise and lead his team to victory. Are you going to give up, get mad (same as giving up by the way) or are you going to do what is necessary to achieve success?

Today's Post-game review

Now you know a little about me and where I am coming from, plus a little about what I expect to see from you and your young athlete. All of this information I have, and will continue to share, is based on respect and careful observation. In my last blog I disputed the importance of titles in lieu of descriptors for "coaches." But this blog was largely on you, the reader, to temper your enthusiasm for blaming the coach. The onus is on you, as a parent, to lead your athlete as they develop. Encourage them. Love them. And be there during their journey, as I am here to guide you along yours.


On deck: Managers, um...manage.

Why are you here?

Why are you here? Why are any of us here?

Nobody will read this post, unless you're extraordinarily bored or you got lost on the Internet. (Mom, you're not included in this, I love you for trying though.) And if you're looking for a hook, I don't have one. I'm just an ordinary man with an ordinary life who has a passion for sports, a desire to see the success of the team concept, and a disheartening feeling that teachers are in short supply.

There was a time when I was inside the fence...playing baseball from tee ball to semi-pro. I played soccer until I broke my ankle my junior year of high school and required follow up surgery to repair it the following year. I spent some time coaching when my daughter was little, but time at work prevented me from continuing as she got older. And my son pretty much missed out on the whole Coach/Dad thing altogether. But I have loved sports, like so many people out there, and I think some of you are sensible people who are frustrated by the things that you see on fields across the country each and every day. But it took me a long time to get here. I'm not going to waste your time with my life story. I'll just give you the short version...(too late, right?)

And you might ask yourself, well, how did I get here?

I was born a coach's son. I grew up around baseball. My Dad coached some guys you'll never hear of and a couple of names you would immediately recognize from the professional ranks (Deron Cherry.) But that's not important. What is important was that he was a teacher and a student of the game. Like many of us in our youth, I didn't appreciate that he was the only real coach I had ever known until I left for college. That's when I met Mike Gaski at UNC Greensboro. If you don't know the name, look it up, what does this look like, a Wikipedia spot? Anyway, he was a baseball teacher as well. I'll explain the difference later.

The older I get, the more I appreciate those teachers I had along the way who made me who I am. And, although you're more likely to see my face plastered on a milk carton (if you're not old enough to remember, ask someone over 40) than a Hall of Fame plaque, I've gained a fair amount of knowledge about the sports I enjoy. Even professional teams are as much about classroom as they are business. The amount of time spent teaching is just different the further along the food chain you advance, while the business side becomes more prevalent. So I'm going to spout my two cents worth to make myself feel better and maybe, just maybe, reach a blockhead or two along the way. And if the shameless name-dropping continues someone may actually find this blog.

Every game has rules...

I don't condone the offing of coaches at any level based on wins or losses, because my focus has always been on instruction, but it depends on what level of participation we're talking about. A youth volunteer coach is less important from a money-making perspective than that of the professional ranks. So measure your perspective.

Disclaimer Alert. I cannot be held responsible if you have discovered that I touched a nerve, unearthed some grand truth about your beloved coach, or enlightened you on some aspect of their behavior that cause your ill-will toward them or the teams on which your child plays. I watched the Friday Night Lights series, too. Let's be real, save the drama for cable. You're an adult, act like one.

I am here to share knowledge and personal experiences with an emphasis on the "recreational" levels. In this case I am looking at youth through secondary education because once you get into college and beyond we're talking about scholarships and contracts, based on performance, where the player is receiving a direct benefit from their efforts. If you're paying for your kid to play and the coach isn't pursuing it as a full-time career, I'm talking to you and your coaches.

Teachers teach

So let's break down the 3 types of coaches you might see when you hit that next travel ball tournament 200 hundred miles from home next weekend. We'll call these individuals Managers, Coaches and Teachers. Disclaimer Alert. Forget about titles here. Just because your title has coach in it doesn't make you one. These are descriptors, not titles.

1. Managers - Managers stand the least of any of the 3 types. They are, by nature intellectuals, studying every aspect of the game in which they manage. They will remove themselves from the group more often as well. You'll find them sitting at the end of the bench or dugout, almost as impartial observers. They see themselves as leaders, and their focus is to put each individual in the right place at the right time in order to succeed. They are Four-Star Generals sending their rank and file into battle with a specific understanding of what each player's and coach's role is in any given situation.
2. Coaches - Coaches are the least desirable of the 3 types. They are specialized, systematic and entirely too predictable. They're yellers. They can yell...a lot. They see themselves as leaders but players may have difficulty accepting them. They are capable of directing a team and may do a satisfactory job if the pieces all fit their mold but they can't adapt from whatever system they've adopted, so they have to have the right players, because they're not going to be able to teach them or manage them effectively.
3. Teachers - Call them hippies, gurus, or motivators but their players respect them, some even love them. They are the most engaged with their team, the most adaptable and most knowledgeable of the 3 types. Teachers are also students of the game, learning new techniques, trying new approaches and make playing the game enjoyable for their players. They may not always have the most wins, but they develop players and ultimately, that's what you're looking for at the youth level.

So now what?

Disclaimer Alert. If you're easily offended (and you know who you are) don't bother reading, following me or sending me email. I'm just going to laugh at you and move on because you simply didn't get it. Or if you're the heckler who thinks he's the headliner, go for it. I'll give you your 15 minutes, but I'm giving you your warning now. Again, we're all adults here, act like one.

So let's call this a guided tour. Maybe it's your journey into self-discovery as a coach or sports parent. Perhaps it's an outright wake up call, either way, we're on this ride together. But let's not limit ourselves on our trip. Some of the best times include some stops that weren't on the map or the days that got rained out. And don't expect that I'm going to follow any sort of schedule either, so I might post 3 days in a row and then not for a week, but sports and life are unpredictable right? 

"A good friend of mine used to say...Sometimes you win. Sometimes you lose. Sometimes it rains. Think about that for awhile." - Bull Durham