Foul Balls and Furious Fathers

by Carleton Kendrick

Some kids cried, others were scared. Frustrated grown men were making them weep, angry grown men were making them tremble. Fathers of little boys -- the coaches -- were stealing a great game from their sons, teaching them that pride comes only from winning.

This was the third inning of a nightmare. This was my first game coaching Little League.

Men behaving badly
While vehemently arguing a call at home plate, the opposing head coach threw his clipboard to the ground, humiliating our 15-year-old umpire. Some boys began taunting our pitcher, who was laboring to find the strike zone. Their coaches merely smirked; there was no rebuke. Some fathers in the bleachers joined the taunting. A coach loudly berated his son for making his second fielding error. The 10-year-old hung his head in shame.

Each of these crimes hit me like short, hard punches to the gut. What drove these men to disrespect and embarrass children? What was wrong with them? Why were the stakes so high?

A season of joy
Peter, our head coach, and I didn't throw clipboards or yell at our kids during that game, or any game. No boy got shamed; that was our rule. Our kids had fun, got praised for their accomplishments, and learned how to play baseball.

We taught kids how to learn from their mistakes without embarrassing them. Peter knew how to turn everything a kid did on the field into a positive experience: "I know you struck out, son, but if you had hit the ball with that powerful swing of yours, it would have been over the fence. Just wait 'til next time!" "Sure you missed that fly ball. It was hit higher than anything we hit to you in practice and you caught all of those. If you hadn't thrown the ball in so quickly after you missed it, they would have scored a run. You saved a run with that throw!"

Peter had an after-game ritual. Win or lose, he'd sit all the kids down on the bench and point out at least one specific thing worthy of praise that each boy had done. He always found the words. At first, most parents were irritated that Peter was adding a ten-minute wait onto an already long evening. But their impatient faces soon gave way to grins as they heard Peter's caring words.

The season certainly wasn't all bad, but the other coaches ruined too many games and broke far too many boys' hearts. Our boys had a great year. They were all better ballplayers. They were teammates who had cheered each other on and had demonstrated good sportsmanship. They felt better about themselves.

I can't remember how many games we won, but I can remember the smiles on our boys' faces when grown men honored their efforts and made them feel special.

Read Carleton Kendrick's bio.