My Little League Baseball Coach Was Forced to Play Me and I Hated Him For It
I didn’t like this very much and it demotivated me from wanting to play baseball
Not an exceptional athlete
I wasn’t exactly the most exceptional athlete growing up, especially when it came to baseball. The potential was certainly there though. I did have a slight frame and was a little pudgy at the age of 13 so it may have been a hard sell to convince an alcoholic Little League manager to play fairly.
He was forced to play me per the league rules at the time. Everyone on the time who had a roster spot had to play in some capacity. It’s not like my team was any good. We finished the season 0–13. The Cardinals. That’s the Major League logo we got to wear on our jerseys for our little league games.
An awful player on an awful team with an awful coach
The team in general was downright awful. My manager just didn’t care. I think he was just there to get a paycheck. It didn’t help that I was one of the worst players on the team. I wasn’t fast, strong, or good at hitting. Naturally, the coach put me in the one position he felt like he could put a five-foot, 130-pound 13-year-old in the right field.
The outfield was not a great place to put me. Other teams knew that I couldn’t throw very far. I could barely make the cutoff throws at times to get runners out or hold them at their respective bases. Plus, putting me out there made me have to play so far away from the rest of the action. Teams knew they could exploit this weakness. They hit opposite-field balls out there often.
The desire to play in the infield ignored
I honestly told the coach that I was good at catching balls and should’ve been put on first base. I wouldn’t have to throw the ball and anything that went my way would’ve been an easy out. But because I was the least talented hitter on the team, he just wanted to keep me somewhere he didn’t have to think about me.
My development in the game suffered because of it. I did work on my arm so that I could try to get used to playing outfield, but it didn’t really get much stronger as the years went on. I was forced to play in a position I was doomed to fail in. I was always wondering if the coach actually did want to lose.
Uncaring, unfeeling, alcoholic coach and trying to get his attention
He was the most unenthusiastic of all of the 12 team coaches in the league and everyone knew that with us on the schedule, we’d be an easy win. The lack of focus, lack of confidence in my ability, and the coach’s general apathy made me lose interest in the game.
I started missing practices, missing games, and coming to games unprepared or without my athletic cup on just because I wanted to. Let’s just say that I wasn’t good at hitting, but I was a patient hitter and good at taking walks and hit by pitches. I did get hit where the cup was supposed to be in one of those at-bats, just so that the coach would notice me.
Yep, I said it, I took nut shots at 13-years-old because I felt like the coach was an unfeeling, uncaring prick. That didn’t change anything. He still carried the same attitude towards me. Even in that game when my walk was the catalyst to our potential first win of the season, he still seemed uninterested. I scored in that inning. We fell short and lost by one run. At least it wasn’t me that did it. I played my part.
Refusing to play and losing interest in the game altogether
For the last five games of the season after playing unhappy and feeling unappreciated, I refused to go into the game. I sat on the bench and told the umpires that the coach could find someone else to play in the right field and that I would refuse to suit up. I really wanted to play infield and knew I could’ve made a better impact closer to the ball and the action.
I was a smart kid even if I wasn’t the most athletic, something my coach and even fellow teammates underestimated. After the unceremonious end to my Little League season and essentially the only Little League season I played as a kid, I never thought about playing baseball on any other level ever again because of that sour experience.
My little brother and playing a stickball sport later in life
Anyway, my little brother was more of a baseball player than I was. He went on to play six seasons and was a multiple all-star and even got to play in tournaments. He was definitely the more athletically inclined one in the family. I didn’t even care to compete with my little brother, though.
I was always the brainy one who just happened to try baseball for one season in my last season of eligibility and ended up on the crappiest team in the crappiest situation possible. I would only attempt to play a baseball-like sport one more time in my life on my bar’s softball team.
My unrealized potential, frustration, and rage came out on the field when I was normally a level-headed, cool guy and I took it out and walked off the field against the star player in the game. The point is, I think my Little League experience soured me from playing any sport closely resembling baseball for the rest of my life and I never knew how good I could’ve gotten playing a game I love to watch on television.
