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Some of my fondest childhood memories come from competitive junior league sports. Well, except swim team, the one sport I was genuinely good at but hated intensely. But between soccer, basketball, baseball, and tennis, organized sports were so much fun. My favorite was actually baseball, especially since I grew up in the Atlanta suburbs during the Braves’ glory days in the 1990s. My dad used to take me to the nearby high school and give me batting practice, which only included one instance of a wild pitch accidentally hitting my nose.
There was the inside the park home run I hit because the other kids couldn’t field for crap. There were the post-game hot dogs. There was the boredom in right field waiting for a kid who was capable of hitting a ball my way. But it was all fun. Now that I’m getting older and my friends are having kids and I’m starting to think about having my own someday, I realize that I can’t wait to be the overly competitive little league dad.
My dad was often too busy to be an actual coach for the team. In most situations that wouldn’t be a problem, but as anyone who played organized sports as a little kid knows, most coaches have a kid or two on the team, as does the assistant coach and their neighbors or friends. Fathers who coach and are friends with the coach always get their kids to play the best positions with the most playing time. That’s why you always hear crazy stories about parents freaking out at coaches for not playing their kids enough.
Kids of the coaches or coaches’ friends always got to be pitchers and infielders, while the other kids good enough to play were put in the outfield. One time a coach decided to give me a chance to be a pitcher. One chance at only one practice. I was so excited, but got in trouble at school that week and was grounded from going to practice. I was never given the chance again. Had I had personal pull with the coach, maybe I’d have gotten another chance. The point is, there are big benefits to having a dad on or being friends with the little league coaching staff and childhood team sports are not always a meritocracy.
I will not allow my kid to be bypassed on opportunities to play better positions with more playing time. I don’t want to be the dad who has to berate or, even scarier, sic my wife on the coach for not giving my kid enough playing time. There are enough stories about drunk dads making scenes in front of nervous, impressionable kids and volunteer umpires. So instead, I’m going to be the overly competitive little league dad.
I have two options here. I can volunteer to be a coach with a reputable league and have my kid practice every single day after school even if we have to stay out past his bedtime. Kindergarten can wait, my kid’s going to be a star. My kid is getting reps at a high volume position like shortstop, second base, first base, or pitcher.
My second option is to be drinking buddies with the coaches. One of my talents is being a fun drunk 86% of the time. If you’re friends with the coaches you can get them to play your kid wherever they don’t want their own kid playing and you can drink beer in the stands during games and trash talk the other team while your wife glares at you. It’s honestly a decent option. I’m confident my kid will be serviceably athletic at the very least, so it won’t necessarily be favoritism or nepotism. I may even volunteer at practices and treat them like they’re training for the World Series. Losers practice to not lose, winners practice to win.
It is extremely important to my kid’s childhood experiences and athletic future and my personal entertainment that I become the overly competitive little league dad. If I’m willing to sweat and (drunkenly) bleed for my alma mater’s football team, I need to be willing to do the same for my kid. I can’t wait. .
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@5OClockShadow_
Assistant coaching my son’s tee ball team this year. Best of both worlds because you can assert a lot of influence without being ultimately held responsible for the winning percentage of a bunch of 5 and 6-year-olds. If they win, Johnny’s mom sees you in all of your glory. But if they blow it, hell, maybe Coach Don needs to get his goddam priorities straight and quit taking work trips during the season so he can focus on the team.
One bit of advice, though: Don’t tell mom that “Kindergarten can wait.” Explain that you’re redshirting him so he has a chance to develop while saving that crucial 5th year of eligibility when he’s going to be bigger and more mature.
“I think he has great potential, but Billy is our current first baseman and he stopped picking his nose during the game. Once he leaves, it’s your son’s for the taking.”
I just got paid 9k bucks working off my laptop this month. And if you think that’s cool, my divorced friend has twin toddlers and made over 12k d0llar her first month. It feels so good making so much money when other people have to work for so much less. This is what I do…. www.Jobzon3.com
“Why can’t you be more like Darryl over there? He’s going pro. You’re not going pro because you couldn’t catch a god damn routine pop fly. You put yourself in a pickle Steven and I don’t mean the baseball kind. Now you’re just gonna live an average existence and probably disintegrate over time in a shitty little cubicle somewhere just like me. I had high hopes for you Steven but now it’s proven that you took your mother’s genes. This fucking sucks. No we aren’t going to McDonald’s after. Shut your mouth”
There’s nothing worse than the Dad who thinks his kid who has a swing that looks like Drunk Bartolo Colon should be batting cleanup
Big Bart swinging a bat is a magical thing to watch.
Let me tell you, Apathetic Dad Drinking Beer Conspicuously In The Stands With His Buddies is way more fun, and no one (the other players’ hot moms) openly hates you. Look up every once in a while and shout a meaningless platitude (“good hustle out there!”) and you’re “paying attention” and “a devoted father” while also getting to be a slacker degenerate. Plus you get Wife Points for taking the kid to the games so she can go do something else.
“Dad who stands by the outfield fence” – Quietly shows up out of nowhere, gives the kid a few “atta boys” and “good hustles” – Let’s the coach know he’s got an eye on things, then slips off into the sunset after the game.
This was essentially my dad with soccer. I was 5 and my dad came home with a vhs on the rules of soccer & a bag of gear, and told my mom he had signed up to be the coach. Ended up getting super into the game and drove me to travel games for the next 12 years. Definitely look back on that fondly.
exact same thing for my dad… the man didn’t know how to play sports (he was a band geek, my mom was the athlete) but he tried his hardest to be a part of our busy sports schedules. He ended up getting really into soccer and I didn’t fully appreciate it until I got older
My dad was the small town, well known guy so I always got picked by the guy who had the best player in the league as a son. We dominated Little League with speed and tricks, like the ol’ hidden ball.
My favorite baseball memory is stealing home plate standing up because I knew if I started running in the pitcher’s windup he would get distracted and throw a wild pitch.
Fully support this article. Rumor has it draft nights can get pretty wild.
Name checks out
You know what they say about the kids who play right field in little league…
My dad used to encourage me to bomb my tryouts so I would get slated in a later round and he could pick up another top round pick.
Russell Wilson’s current agent was also a coach in our league. Dude was intense.