Forward

Trying to corral little kids into a game of T-ball is often compared to herding cats.  However, after spending three years in “the big T,” as it is never referred to, I think this analogy might be unfair to the cats, which spend much less time scratching around in the dirt.  The main roadblock when it comes to T-ball is the issue of focus.  This is not meant to be insulting.  4-year-olds are great.  But expecting them to stand in one place beneath the hot sun for more than 90 seconds?  That’s insane.

However, it is rarely in good form to identify a problem without offering up at least a few plausible solutions, and so the following ideas might be considered.

For starters, we need to schedule the competition in stages.  On opening day we simply pass out team shirts to the entire league and put everyone in center field. Their respective coaches, who will also be wearing the team-colored shirt, will be placed in different spots in left and right.  A whistle will be blown, and the youngsters will then go find their team. 

  Once the teams are found, the kids will be given their ball gloves and will be told to put the glove on the appropriate hand.  “No, the other hand.  I said the other hand!  It’s backwards, somehow you put it on backwards.  OK, good.  No, there’s no bee in it, that’s just the tag.  I don’t have scissors right now to cut the tag off,  just put the…please put the glove on…pick up your glove! Will you get off the ground, you’re acting like a child!”

Once gloved, the players will pair up and just play catch with each other for a few minutes before repeating this process with every other member of the team.  This will emphasize the crucial yet often over looked component of organized sports:  your team members are the ones wearing the same shirt.

At the end of the day, anyone who doesn’t cry gets a snow cone.

Game two will focus on base running.  One team will line the edge of the infield while the opposing players will just run around the bases until they are exhausted.  This will take about three minutes.  Coaches will be at each base to emphasize some key components:  run as fast as you can, the pitcher’s mound is not a base, and don’t stop to wave at grandma.   

At the end of day two, anyone who doesn’t cry gets a snow cone.

Using this strategy as a template, each week an additional skill could be introduced.  For example, many T-ballers have a difficult time differentiating between offense and defense.  On more than one occasion, in fact, I have seen very eager youngsters leap off the bench to field pokey grounders swatted by their own teammate.  I have even seen kids field their own hit, which might sound impossible unless you have actually witnessed the speed at which a T-ball grounder moves.  

The point is this:  T-ball is a process.  Not only is this often the first time these kids have played organized sports, it’s the first time some of them have even thrown a ball at someone their own age.  Focusing on a new aspect of the game each week might prove beneficial.  Of course, it also might still be cat-herding.  I’m not psychic.

Regardless of the activity—T-ball, jump rope, bull riding—it’s a process, which also happens to be one of my favorite mottos.  One of the most useful epiphanies of my entire career came the day I realized that it wasn’t actually my job to make each of my students into a good writer.  This might sound weird coming from an English teacher, to say nothing of the transition it takes to move from a discussion about T-ball to one about writing instruction, but look at it this way. Some students are already good writers.  On the other hand, writing well can be a real challenge, and some students are simply designed for other pursuits.  However, if I’m doing my job right, each of them should at least be better writers in May than they were in August.

 Accepting that little cosmic reality has made teaching and just about everything else much less stressful.  It’s the arc that matters most; not so much the speed.  To paraphrase one of our nation’s finest writers and orators, Dr. King, “…if you can’t run, then walk; if you can’t walk, then crawl; just be sure to keep moving forward.”

Many of you are parents and grandparents, some of you are teachers, a few of you are students. With the new school year fast approaching, this “moving forward” business is something to keep in mind.  First base to second; second to third; defense on the field, offense up to bat.  Little by little, glove on the right hand, leave the dirt alone.

Chin up, hustle, try not to cry.

The snow cones will be waiting.