First-time Little League coaching experience was rewarding, thanks to those who helped

Columnist’s Note: It’s finally here—my long-awaited, much-heralded return to column writing. The applause isn’t necessary, but truly, I do appreciate it. Moving forward, I plan to have a column here in the pages of the News Journal on a monthly basis. I hope you’ll join me here to read whatever it is I have to share.

I didn’t grow up playing baseball. I didn’t even grow up watching baseball. Aside from the occasions in which Chicago Cubs or Atlanta Braves games would cut into whatever station the family television might have been on at the time, I didn’t have much involvement in the sport.

The biggest reason for that is I didn’t have anyone in my life to really introduce me to the game of baseball. And it cutting into my regular programming didn’t help my interest. But, truthfully, my focus was so steadfastly settled on one sport in particular that I had never even considered giving another so much as a wandering eye.

No, my one, true love was that of modern-day gladiators: Football.

For me, football didn’t need an introduction. It was violent and exciting and fast. Football forced me to pay attention.

While I still enjoy the sport, America’s pastime has supplanted it atop my sports hierarchy. There’s a mystique to baseball that has enamored me as I’ve gotten older.

This year, for the first time ever, I journeyed into the world of Little League baseball. After some extensive negotiations with my then-seven-year-old daughter, I took on the role of head coach and recruited her as my very first player. It should be noted that she was not a ringer. Her baseball expertise extended approximately as far as mine, which amounted essentially to the occasional game of catch in our back yard.

I also had no prior experience coaching; that is, unless you count my absolutely dominating reign at the helm of the Kentucky Wildcats football program during the early 2010s in the NCAA Football video game. It truly was a dynasty that paled even Nick Saban’s tenure at Alabama.

The Little League season, however, didn’t start quite as stellar, with us losing our first four games of the year. Two of those losses were closely contested, but the other two were a little more uneven.

I’m a highly competitive person. So much so, that family game nights often end long before the game has actually concluded and everyone funnels out of the living room in a fit of equal parts rage and annoyance. Why? Because I was winning. Or, because I was losing. (I’m not saying I’m proud of it.)

Despite that mentality, I managed to go into this season with a fairly level head. I wanted to win, but, more importantly, I wanted the kids to have fun. During that string of losses, I could sense the kids weren’t having fun though. There’s obviously nothing fun about constantly falling short.

I decided we were not going to lose our next game. Even in coach pitch, there’s only so much bearing I could have on the game, but I knew I could at least alter my own approach.

I changed up our weekly practice, breaking the kids off into rotating pods that focused on specific aspects or mechanics of the game. The team showed a marked improvement in our next game, rallying to a 5-1 win.

I knew if they could get that win, it would jumpstart their belief in both themselves and their teammates. They were able to build off that success and find their stride. The team ended up putting together a streak of wins heading into the end-of-season tournament before eventually finishing the year in third place among the six coach pitch teams. It was a worthy finish, especially given the talent level of some of the teams.

I’m thankful that my daughter decided to play this year. It was a great experience for her, but I think it was even better for me.

In the midst of our losing streak, I found myself looking up possible solutions online as to how to right the ship. I came across a Reddit post of someone asking for similar advice. One response in particular struck me: “Baseball is a game of failure. You will get out, you will make mistakes, but it’s how you handle those mistakes that build your character.”

Getting to know these kids, getting to rejoice with them in their triumphs and getting to watch them become better players was an extremely rewarding experience. I’m proud of what they achieved this year. I hope that I was able to help them handle their mistakes in a way that will continue to build their character, because I certainly know they did that for me this season.

I also met a lot of cool, new people throughout this endeavor that I might not have otherwise. I went headlong into this head coach position with not a single other grown-up to help me. Luckily, I picked up some parents of a few of my players to round out my coaching staff. Jason Beavers, Paul Dengel and Cortney Moses, I appreciate your help throughout the season. You made it a fun and thoroughly enjoyable adventure.

We had a great group of parents, too. In talking to some coaches from other teams, kids habitually missing games is a constant issue. That wasn’t a problem I had to deal with. Aside from an occasional sickness, my entire team was frequently present for games and even optional practices that I continued to hold weekly. It was a pleasure working with each of you.

I also want to commend the work done in Williamsburg by both Patty Faulkner and Maggie White for keeping that program running as smoothly as possible and helping create a fun, memorable experience for players and coaches alike. I still shudder to think of how frequently I text Maggie throughout the season asking questions or for favors to accommodate my schedule here at the newspaper. I don’t know how either of you do it, but I’m glad you do.

There’s also the countless amount of people that worked the concession stands or served as umpires (a position I do not envy) or other roles that I’m not even aware of that make it all possible.

To everyone mentioned above and those I may have missed: Thank you! Your time and effort helped make life a little better for a lot of kids in the area. That’s something worth celebrating.