Do you want it?
When I was a kid, I played a lot of little league baseball. I wasn't very good back then, but I could have been if I had wanted it. The coach would put me in right field (when I wasn't keeping the bench warm) with the hopes that nothing would get hit towards me. When they did, I missed all the balls that were within my reach. Why?
I was afraid of failing.
My batting wasn't much better. At the beginning of the season I was put near the first batting position on the roster and my name was slowly moved back until I was last in the batting order. I was the one praying for the walk. I would hear a moan resonate throughout the dugout when I was next at bat with two outs and the game on the line.
One time at bat I abandoned all my dignity and I swung as hard as I could. I certainly couldn't do much worse than I was doing already. I didn't even realize I hit the ball until the coaches started screaming at me to RUN! The ball went over the outfielders' heads. It soared! I rounded first and second like a locomotive, hands to cheeks as clay popped off the back of my cleats.
I scorched the bases! As I rounded third, the 3B coach, my dad, slapped me on the back to congratulate me. His son finally hit the ball! And it was a MONSTER! But there was no fence on that field so the ball was live when dad touched me at third. I jumped onto home plate, so proud, so elated. That's when the ump said I had to go back to third due to coach's interference.
So, my dad took away the only home run I would ever have had.
That was my last year playing ball and I held on to a lot of regrets because of it. I regretted not going hard enough every play. I regretted not swinging at fastballs but instead hoping for the walk, then hoped the next batter could bring me home. I regretted not pestering my parents to take me to the batting cages. Basically, my enthusiasm for the game was waning. And it was a sad time for me. How quickly I gave up on myself.
That is why I coach.
Not that I'm currently a coach, I'm more of an administrator for my daughter's team, but I have coached little league for about 12 years. I wasn't good at the beginning but I learned from watching other successful coaches and got better every season. I learned to attend other coaches' practices to see what they taught and I went to their teams' games to show support. When I'm not at one of my two jobs, when I'm not volunteering for a worthy cause, when I'm not driving my daughter to practices, you can find me reading about baseball and softball. Not the stories, but the techniques and practical application of those techniques on the field and in the batter's box.
I take books out of the library, I study clips of MLB players to see if what people teach on the field is what the big-leaguers do. I am on four internet baseball/softball discussion sites. I have gone to coaching clinics, studied the catcher's bible DVD, had lengthy discussions with Austin Wasserman about throwing techniques, and am in the process of getting my ASA (Amateur Softball Association) Level One coaching certification. Why?
Because I need to have the correct answer if a player needs help. Because I don't want the kids to have to go through the pain of giving up on themselves like I did to myself. Because the players are worth it. And as long as they are worth it, then they deserve the best from me. And I will not fail to give my best, ever.
Only problem is...I cannot make the player "want" it. I didn't really "want" it when I was a 12 year old out in right field and I never realized that the decisions I made during a game would affect the way I handled life years later. But looking back, every time I DID want it, every time I DID give 100%, every time I did NOT give up on myself, I found that I succeeded in all areas of my life. I learned that success only touches those who deserve it. Those who seek it out. It will not come to the player that lets a grounder go to the outfield because it was hit a little too hard. It will not come to the batter praying for a walk. It will not come to the pitcher who wants to be taken out when the opponents start crushing it. It will not come to the catcher who lets a ball pass and lets the winning run score. And it will not come to those players that make excuses for missing plays or place blame on their team mates. And it is not for players who miss games, practices or team events. You have to WANT success.
Do you want it?
--Bill
When I was a kid, I played a lot of little league baseball. I wasn't very good back then, but I could have been if I had wanted it. The coach would put me in right field (when I wasn't keeping the bench warm) with the hopes that nothing would get hit towards me. When they did, I missed all the balls that were within my reach. Why?
I was afraid of failing.
My batting wasn't much better. At the beginning of the season I was put near the first batting position on the roster and my name was slowly moved back until I was last in the batting order. I was the one praying for the walk. I would hear a moan resonate throughout the dugout when I was next at bat with two outs and the game on the line.
One time at bat I abandoned all my dignity and I swung as hard as I could. I certainly couldn't do much worse than I was doing already. I didn't even realize I hit the ball until the coaches started screaming at me to RUN! The ball went over the outfielders' heads. It soared! I rounded first and second like a locomotive, hands to cheeks as clay popped off the back of my cleats.
I scorched the bases! As I rounded third, the 3B coach, my dad, slapped me on the back to congratulate me. His son finally hit the ball! And it was a MONSTER! But there was no fence on that field so the ball was live when dad touched me at third. I jumped onto home plate, so proud, so elated. That's when the ump said I had to go back to third due to coach's interference.
So, my dad took away the only home run I would ever have had.
That was my last year playing ball and I held on to a lot of regrets because of it. I regretted not going hard enough every play. I regretted not swinging at fastballs but instead hoping for the walk, then hoped the next batter could bring me home. I regretted not pestering my parents to take me to the batting cages. Basically, my enthusiasm for the game was waning. And it was a sad time for me. How quickly I gave up on myself.
That is why I coach.
Not that I'm currently a coach, I'm more of an administrator for my daughter's team, but I have coached little league for about 12 years. I wasn't good at the beginning but I learned from watching other successful coaches and got better every season. I learned to attend other coaches' practices to see what they taught and I went to their teams' games to show support. When I'm not at one of my two jobs, when I'm not volunteering for a worthy cause, when I'm not driving my daughter to practices, you can find me reading about baseball and softball. Not the stories, but the techniques and practical application of those techniques on the field and in the batter's box.
I take books out of the library, I study clips of MLB players to see if what people teach on the field is what the big-leaguers do. I am on four internet baseball/softball discussion sites. I have gone to coaching clinics, studied the catcher's bible DVD, had lengthy discussions with Austin Wasserman about throwing techniques, and am in the process of getting my ASA (Amateur Softball Association) Level One coaching certification. Why?
Because I need to have the correct answer if a player needs help. Because I don't want the kids to have to go through the pain of giving up on themselves like I did to myself. Because the players are worth it. And as long as they are worth it, then they deserve the best from me. And I will not fail to give my best, ever.
Only problem is...I cannot make the player "want" it. I didn't really "want" it when I was a 12 year old out in right field and I never realized that the decisions I made during a game would affect the way I handled life years later. But looking back, every time I DID want it, every time I DID give 100%, every time I did NOT give up on myself, I found that I succeeded in all areas of my life. I learned that success only touches those who deserve it. Those who seek it out. It will not come to the player that lets a grounder go to the outfield because it was hit a little too hard. It will not come to the batter praying for a walk. It will not come to the pitcher who wants to be taken out when the opponents start crushing it. It will not come to the catcher who lets a ball pass and lets the winning run score. And it will not come to those players that make excuses for missing plays or place blame on their team mates. And it is not for players who miss games, practices or team events. You have to WANT success.
Do you want it?
--Bill
