Baseball has been a major part of my life since I was a little boy. I don’t know of any one non-human or non-pet thing that has taken up more of my lifetime than the nation’s pastime.
I credit my next-door neighbor, Robert Hinckley, for creating my love for the game when I was a grade-school kid in Wichita.
Robert was four years older, a good athlete, and my boyhood idol. He loved baseball and he taught me the game through Topps baseball cards, daily summer whiffle ball games, and teaching me how to listen to St. Louis Cardinals baseball games on my transistor radio. He spent a lot of time coaching me and my younger brother.
While his friendship was sincere, I later realized I had a sister five years older than me. No wonder he liked hanging out with us. But I’m good with that trade off!
My love for the game grew, and years later, I played baseball at Great Bend High School. That experience helped me pay my way through college with baseball scholarships. After graduation from GBHS, I played at Pratt Community College and Tabor College. After graduating from Kansas Newman College, I coached at the NAIA, junior college, summer collegiate, and high school levels.
Baseball also helped pay for one of my sons to graduate from Emporia State.
Thank you, baseball.
I now have three grandsons who play baseball. If his surgically repaired shoulder stays repaired, my oldest will be playing this summer for my son, Casey, who coaches the Hutchinson Monarchs. I also have a seven-year-old playing pitching machine and a five-year-old playing T-ball.
This column is about the 7-year-old. He’s been around the game his entire life as well. He, too, loves this game. And basketball. And football. And soccer. And …
His Wichita Athletics team had a tournament in Wichita this past weekend that his Grandma Tammy and I attended. We have been to several of his games in the past few years and many times the action on the field is overshadowed by the action in the stands.
Some of these parents, most of whom were probably never relevant athletes, are reliving their dreams through these young, unknowing little leaguers. If they could see their actions on their phone screen, they should be embarrassed and ashamed. And it seems a few of these coaches are using this as a tryout for college or professional coaching opportunities that will never come.
Honestly, I was dreading attending the tournament. I love watching these young kids play but the distractions outside the lines are extremely hard to deal with. I sucked it up and we attended to support our grandson.
I’m so happy we went. I was pleasantly surprised – shocked, actually – at the attitudes and actions of the players (although several had the 8U crying meltdowns), the coaches, and the parents.
On several occasions, I was expecting the worst. There were many close plays in tight games. There were rivalry games, (yes there are rivalry games in 8U baseball) that were won in the last at bat. There were games won early on that will sometimes spark anger from the representatives of the team getting spanked.
Other than the players playing hard, this weekend was different. Coaches were coaching – stopping the game to give positive instructions instead of negative criticisms. Opposing coaches were high fiving the competition after a good play or good effort. Parents from both teams were applauding good plays for both sides.
Kyler’s team, the Wichita Athletics, didn’t win the tournament. Instead, they finished fourth. They received a medal. I’m usually not a medal guy but, this weekend, the little league baseball world was different. I’m glad they earned a medal.
This weekend anyway, the coaches and parents deserve trophies!
— Keith Lippoldt
