Sandlot 101

Youth baseball and softball aren’t getting blown out yet, but if you look closely they are losing to youth lacrosse, field hockey and soccer leagues giving six, seven and eight year olds a chance to run free for 60 minutes on an open field, swinging a stick or kicking a ball.

The thing is, neither baseball or softball need to change their games; they just need to get the heck out of the way.

Take a look at any instructional level ball game to see that. There are 12 kids sprinkled across the diamond, arms drooping, eyes wandering, usually half scattered around the outfield grass, the others in the infield and one kid nestled on the mound behind dad, whose launching high arcing pitches to the plate. The bench is 12 deep where there’s always that one kid who gets bumped off the end and the other who no one can seem to find when it’s her turn to bat. Kids can hit in these leagues, only problem being that 90% of their balls get gobbled up by the pitcher.

You also see 6 dads standing in the field, clapping politely at each throw and even each strikeout, encouraging kids without realizing they are turning baseball into arguably the most boring ball sport ever created.

There’s Firstbase Dad who usually sways like he’s at an Air Supply revival until the ball is put in play. If a kid makes it to the bag, and let’s face it, they almost always do at this age, Firstbase Dad gives the kid a tap on the head and a jellybean in the hand.

There’s Secondbase Dad who is standing in front of the center fielders–yes, that’s plural, there are three of them–and he’s occassionally turning around to Bobby and Charlie and Becca to tell them to “be ready” or ask “where’s the play?”

“Where’s the play?” They can’t see the batter Secondbase Dad because you’re in the way. And if the ball goes up the middle there are five others likely to snag it first.

Then there’s Thirdbase Dad who is wearing shades and cleats and a mitt. He gets into a conversation with parents and misplays two foul balls, then during a close play gives a fist pump then safe sign all in one motion, looking around hoping someone else would just make the call, even though the kid was out. “We don’t want to tell the kid on third he can’t score a run,” says Thirdbasemen Dad.

There’s Shortstop Dad who is holding up his iPhone because his kid is the pitcher and then there’s Left Fielder Dad who also sways with his arms crossed, looking on with dismay because he sort of thinks there’s just gotta be a better way.

A better way there is. Instead of 12 kids on the bench and 12 on the field and an army of father’s itching to do something but unsure how and where to be and what to say, let’s make it two games, not one. Split the kids in half and make a field in the open outfield space. Stick 3 dads on a field, not 6 and give them a chance to actually engage and teach and make the game fun again.  If and when a kid Ks, it’s no big deal, she’ll be up again in no time, not 3 innings later. She can fail but have another try before the hour’s up. Instead of 3 strikes, make it 3 swings. Instead of perching on bases, round them. Forget 6 innings of yawns, play 4 innings of baseball.

It’s Sandlot 101. If we get out of the way and let the kids learn the game from the infield grass in, we may find fewer of them leaving practice early to play soccer.