Take Me Out To The Ball Game
My son's Little League ended last week. Although nothing official was recorded, the team finished 9-1. In their last game, the team aveneged their only loss, (an 11-10 score after 3 innings, game shortened due to a musical performance several kids from both teams had to go to. Only in Little League), by a score of 26-4. The parents from one of the other towns referred to our team as "The Mean Green", due, I suspect, to our green uniforms and our habit of kicking the ever-loving Christ out of other teams. Although we were always nice about that. During the last game I caught one of the coaches, (actually a pretty good guy), recruiting our best player for next year. When I called him on it he said his strategy at next year's draft was to bring a copy of our roster with him and just go down the list. Our team was one of 7, each with 10-12 kids, from three towns. Our team defintiely had the best 4 players in the league on it and probably the best 6.
I'd say we definitely had the best 6 but one of the kid's rarely showed up, and the other one was a whiny little bastard. So screw them.
When our season ended and I was handing out some trophies that I bought, (although not from Soozie; sorry about that Soozie, but CA is a long way from CT), I was a little sad, because these kids, in terms of baseball, have probably peaked. They'll all continue to get better, most of them will keep playing, but I seriously doubt that they'll ever get on another team with that concentration of talent, (which believe me the coaching had NOTHING to do with), when compared to their peers, ever again.
Coincidentally, that was my parting speech to them, and I advised them that they should therefore start drinking heavily.
I'd say we definitely had the best 6 but one of the kid's rarely showed up, and the other one was a whiny little bastard. So screw them.
When our season ended and I was handing out some trophies that I bought, (although not from Soozie; sorry about that Soozie, but CA is a long way from CT), I was a little sad, because these kids, in terms of baseball, have probably peaked. They'll all continue to get better, most of them will keep playing, but I seriously doubt that they'll ever get on another team with that concentration of talent, (which believe me the coaching had NOTHING to do with), when compared to their peers, ever again.
Coincidentally, that was my parting speech to them, and I advised them that they should therefore start drinking heavily.
posted by limpy99 at 11:59 AM
5 Comments:
We DO ship you know Limpy...sheesh. Whatever.
Anyway, I love your speech. Kids these days need to hear how the real world REALLY is.
Way to motivate, Limpy. *L*
CP.
I can only hope that TLF will receive such guidance.
Actually, it was the coaches/parents on our all-star team that needed your little motivational speech, and a stiff shot of whiskey. For chrissakes, they're 9. Let them fucking play, people. As in, have a little fun before you start owing taxes, eh? Next year, I'm signing up on your team.
Ending a season coaching kids can be a sad experience. That was what I discovered as a soccer coach for 4 years. I realized after the first season that the team would never be together again even if all of the kids continued in the youth soccer program. The season we own the age championship, all of the team autographed a red and white soccer ball—our team colors—and presented it to me. That ball is one of my most cherished possessions.
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