Lessons Learned at a Youth League Baseball Game

Several months back, I went to my youngest grandson’s baseball game.  He plays in a local youth league and plays for the Braves.  These are the only Braves I cheer for.  I have been a Dodger fan since 1963, and while I have attended many games in the old Atlanta Fulton County Stadium as well as Turner Field, I have never cheered for the Braves.

Correction, I did kinda pull for the Braves in this year’s World Series.  But only because they were playing the Astros.  All Dodger fans will know why.  Here’s a hint.  2017 World Series.

My oldest son helps coach the team.  He is also a Dodger fan.  My children have been raised as Dodger fans, and they have embraced it.  It does not excite me to see him wearing a Braves cap, but it goes with being a dad.  And he’s a great dad.  So, he wears the cap and tries to help these Braves win.

Regardless of the logo, it makes me extremely happy to see my grandson in a baseball uniform, and in this league, I root unabashedly for the Braves.  There is something powerfully American about all baseball, and especially youth league baseball.

The bleachers and lawn chairs are filled with parents and friends, and lots of grandparents.  As grandparents, that’s what we do.  We watch our grandsons and granddaughters live their lives and grow too fast.  We attend their band concerts, their plays, their award programs, their soccer games, their basketball games and their baseball games.  We are not there out of obligation, but out of choice, and it brings us much joy.

I’m a crowd observer during lulls in the game.  I hear the conversations, I watch the interactions of the families, and I join in the cheering of each of these 5–6-year-old athletes.  Sometimes I even cheer for the kids on the other team.  It’s a good day.  A fun day.  A relaxing day.

Here’s why.  Today is about kids and baseball.  Everyone here is interested in those two things (and maybe something from the concession stand).  The things that frustrate and divide us are not here today.  And if they are, they are being held in check.

Today at the ballpark, there are no Republicans no Democrats.  There are no conservatives, no moderates, and no liberals. There are folks of different races and different ethnic backgrounds, different religions, and on and on.  But here’s the thing.  Today, at this place, none of this matters.  It’s irrelevant. Today it’s baseball. Simply baseball.  No politics, no complaining. Just cheering, sunflower seeds and the sound of ball hitting bat. There are quite a few strikeouts, some solid hits and an abundance of errors.  There are cheers and groans, but no boos.  Instead, there are lots of words of encouragement.

“Good job”, “way to try”, “you’ll hit it next time”, and not just for those who belong to us, but for everyone else’s child or grandchild.

Wouldn’t it be nice if every day was a baseball game?  Wouldn’t the world be different if we acted the same way in other areas of life?  But, at the risk of sounding pessimistic, I  wonder from time to time how long it takes us after leaving the ballpark to fall back into our bad attitudes and habits.  The anger, the frustration, the intolerance always seem to lurk, looking for an opportunity to pounce when we least expect it. 

I realize I’m a bit naïve.  This isn’t real life. Actually, now that I think about it, maybe this is real life, or at least a short clip of real life.  Unfortunately, these clips of life are too soon overshadowed by the longer, more negative clips that we have come to accept as normal and how things should be.  And that’s sad.  Sometimes, I’m concerned that we have allowed some other reality to become our “normal”.

Maybe the answer is to resolve disputes and differences with a baseball game.  Maybe if Congress played a game every week, instead of annually, they might become more respectful, more willing to listen and maybe even become friends.  Maybe if we turned off the news cameras and turned on the stadium lights, the world would be a better place.  I realize I sound like Mr. Rogers, but as I get older, I like Mr. Rogers better and better.

And, as the new year dawns, I want to be a little more like these kids.  I want to interact with others in a better way than maybe I have in the past.  I want to listen more and argue less.  I want to be selective and passionate about the things I really care about and not so dogmatic about the things I don’t.  I want to be content for the most part when you think and act differently from me.  I want to see more good in people and less bad. I want to be more considerate and less judgmental. (I’ve addressed the same desire from a spiritual perspective in the “Life and Grace” blog (https://lifeandmiles.com/life-and-grace).

And I want to watch more baseball and less news. I know some will disagree, but the less news I watch, the less I worry and the less I feel like I have to have an opinion on every issue.  There literally are things I don’t have to care about and which I don’t care about.

By the way, watch these kids after the game.  If you didn’t see the names on the uniforms, you’d be hard pressed to know which team they were on. (Some of them still haven’t learned that in baseball, you score runs, not points.)  They’re all just young baseball players. Just like we’re all just people.  

Speaking of baseball.  Here are three undeniable truths.

1. One, you can’t pick up a baseball bat without swinging it.
2. Two, you can’t put on a glove and hold a baseball without tossing the ball into the glove.
3. Three, there is no such thing as a hindcatcher.  The position is catcher.

By the way, if Major League baseball can sign a new collective bargaining agreement and get back to baseball, pitchers and catchers report to camp in about six weeks!

Happy New Year!  See you at the ballpark.

(Please check out our other blog at https://lifeandmiles.com/life-and-grace)