P

lay ball!

Those are arguably two of the best words spoken together, at least in my opinion.

Just the sound of those two words are enough to draw a roar from the crowd.

Such a simple phrase, but it speaks volumes if you’re a baseball fan. And it’s a phrase you’ll be hearing all around ballparks in your neighborhood, if you haven’t started hearing them already.

Like a lot of kids, I picked up a baseball as soon as I could walk. I played from tee ball until I couldn’t play any longer, or at least until nobody wanted me on their team.

After I stopped playing, I started coaching. I didn’t even have kids yet, and I was out at little league parks volunteering as a coach.

Now that I have kids of my own, I’ve continued to volunteer. This year will be my oldest son’s final year of “rec ball.” Next year, he’s off to high school. Whether he decides to play baseball in high school or not, my days of coaching him are over.

Every day we go out to practice or to a game, I try to cherish those moments. Sure, he drives me crazy sometimes because he doesn’t always listen to me. Funny how the same things I say always sound better to him coming from coach Scott, coach Jody, coach Keith or coach Eric.

Coach Dad? What does he know?

So, as we embark on another spring/summer filled with baseball and softball, I’d like to offer some advice based on my 20-plus years of experience, both as a father coaching his son and as just a person coaching a bunch of strangers.

To the coaches, especially the dads coaching their own kids, remember what it was like to be a kid before you open your mouth. Remember how you felt every time an adult talked down to you and belittled you.

As UL baseball coach Tony Robichaux might say, correct, don’t criticize.

And the ride home from the game is not a good time to replay the game in your head. Let it go for a few hours. Return to being father and son. Praise him for that sacrifice fly he hit instead of talking about the time he struck out with the bases loaded.

The game will tear you down. The best players in baseball fail seven out of 10 times at the plate. Trust me, the game will humble your son/daughter enough. Do your best to build them back up. I won’t even pretend to have this skill mastered yet. But I’m trying.

To the players, enjoy the moment. Savor every pitch. Like I tell my players after every game, baseball is one of those weird games that truly comes down to one pitch. No other sport can make that claim. One pitch can change the entire game, for better or worse.

Don’t beat yourselves up over one pitch. Over one strikeout. Over one error. Put it behind you and make the next pitch the best play ever. Then rinse and repeat.

Also, listen to your coaches, even Coach Dad. Again, they’re correcting you, not criticizing you (most of them are, I believe).

Make sure you are one of those “coachable” players. We know you already know everything at age 13, but at least pretend what we’re telling you is somewhat beneficial.

But back to my original point for the players — enjoy the moment. Have fun. Trust your teammates and love them.

Believe me when I say this. You will look back on these years as some of the greatest of your lives. And playing sports with your buddies will be a big reason why.

To the parents, keep in mind those first two words I wrote at the beginning. The kids are playing ball. They’re not earning a paycheck. They are playing a game.

Despite what you may think, nobody is earning a scholarship on a little league field. The hard work they’re putting in is what’s earning that scholarship, if they even get one.

I doubt very seriously a college baseball coach will scratch a kid off his list because he went 0-for-3 in his game against the Tractor Supply Pirates.

Let your kid have fun. Let her fail. It’s only going to make her stronger. You learn more from failure than you do from success.

Offer to help them out. Dust off your old glove and get in the yard and play catch with them.

After all, that’s what it all boils down to, right? Making memories.

Enjoy the smell of the fresh-cut grass. Grab a bag of sunflower seeds and pull up a chair.

And let them hear you when the umpire yells, “Play Ball!”

 

BRADY AYMOND is a longtime sportswriter and contributor to The Daily Iberian.