Basepaths

I had lunch yesterday with one of my former Farragut Baseball, Inc. buddies. It gave us a chance to catch up and, mostly, take a stroll down memory lane.

Of course, our version of ‘memory lane’ usually refers to basepaths on the ballfield.

My friend hasn’t changed much since we first met as t-ball coaches during the fall of 2000 when our boys were just tiny. Of course, yesterday, we compared notes about their first semester in college!

But, back to those early years, we were fast friends as rival coaches who saw eye to eye on most things. Over the years, as we progressed through the various age groups as coaches, we both became commissioners and joined the baseball league board.

When I was elected league president, he joined my first executive committee as one of our league veeps.

We covered a lot of territory as coaches and commissioners during our time on the hill. And yesterday, we remembered a bunch of fun war stories.

We were blessed to have worked with a number of great volunteer coaches and parents during our years. It takes many good, hard-working volunteers needed to make the operation of a baseball league possible. But, when we tell war stories – like yesterday – we often focus on the less than one percent of characters who you have to watch when you’re in charge.

These guys were always the ones trying to push a rule (or ignore it) or exploit a loophole.

I recounted stories about the coach who argued vehemently against gamesmanship but then was the biggest gamesman around, trying to mess with your players or bend a rule. He countered with talk about one of our former coaching colleague who got caught up in wins and losses and lost sight of the fact that we were all just volunteers trying to teach kids and foster a love of the game.

And we both remembered one coach who was the most high maintenance of them all.

We were always having to deal with this guy because he was always working an angle. If you’d let him, he’d like to take the master league schedule and pick his team slot based on the schedule that worked best for him and his personal life (forgetting everyone else in the process). And, if he received that sort of latitude, he’d also try to swap games out for good measure.

Our pat answer to this guy and his many requests was “No way.”

He was also sneaky in trying to recruit players from various teams to join his. To assist in his effort, he kept a database of every player in the league. In his database, so we were told, were results of every at bat from every kid who played in every game against his team.

Mind you, this spreadsheet focused on kids ages eight through 12. And, if you recall, he was coaching in a ‘recreational’ league.

So, yeah, we always had to keep a watchful eye on him and his antics.

For fun, we’d try to thwart his efforts to update the database. For example, when I handed him my line-up card, I’d often give him fake names just to mess with him. One time, all my players were listed as Disney characters – Mickey, Goofy and Pluto.

Maybe I should’ve listed Kalle Anka as my shortstop?

Another time, I listed my players as Hall of Fame Major League Baseball players.

I chuckled when he sent his wife across the base paths to our dugout. “Now, which one of you is Babe Ruth?” I heard her asking.

We fought his attempts at ‘player poaching’ whenever we could. When I became President, we really beefed up our Code of Conduct to address this issue. I had him in mind as we wrote the text. 

As we remembered this guy, our minds turned to one night in particular when his usual cadre of machinations almost got him in hot water. 

A bunch of us coaches had finished our games earlier and we were sitting in the bleachers watching his team play and there was quite a buzz in the audience that night because the game was a match-up of two pretty good teams. At one key point in the game, he was coaching third base. He called time out and asked for his batter to come over. Coach was going to give him some advice.

Just as he spoke, the buzz in the audience went away just as Coach began to speak. The stadium became pin-drop quiet just as he imparted his advice was about hitting the ball.

I will spare you the details, but let’s just say he got carried away. His coaching advice offended many of the parents on his team. 

I remember looking at my friend and he looked at me and we both exchanged glances with other parents in the bleachers. It was a “Did he just say that?” kind of moment.

Fortunately, the moment blew over, eventually. Now, we chuckle as we remember that and some of the other funny moments from our years of coaching and commissioning.

As I have told you in previous blogs, my years in the baseball league provided many great experiences. One of the nicest aspects of this volunteerism is the opportunity to make some great friendships that last a lifetime.

Lunch with my friend yesterday served as a reminder.

JG

Originally posted 12/18/2013