I haven’t updated this in a while but if you follow my blog I wanted to direct your attention to tempesouth.com. Where you can find links to the scorecast, news and updates and track the progress of the team.
This is the first team from Tempe South Little League to ever win the District 13 Championship.
Go Tempe South!
The last two nights of little league baseball have been crazy. I watched both my sons teams build huge leads, and take certain victory into the last inning only to give it all up. We didn’t lose, but we didn’t win. That makes 3 ties for me this season. Coupled with my 3 at the end of last season I have 6 total ties. I think that has to be a record.
The last two nights were the wackiest as both teams took commanding leads into the last inning. Tuesday night, I brought in a developing pitcher and figured what could go wrong? 3 runs later and loading up the bases I watched the tying run come to the plate and I thought, man we need to end this. So I brought in an ace. Bang. Grand slam. THEN we get the out to end the game. Score 9-9. We have up 7 runs.
The culprit was everyone waiting for someone else to make a play. Any one of 3 or 4 kids could have won the game at any time if they caught the ball, threw the ball, or held onto it. But the real culprit was me who left the developing pitcher in too long. I think now I realize it’s better to pull a kid while he’s on top then to let him struggle.
This is probably why you see Major league managers pull a hot pitcher. Because they grab theme before they get into trouble. So everyone is thinking why are you pulling that guy? He’s on fire! Yup, but he’s about to go very, very cold.
I mean, if you’re going to give up the lead that’s the way to do it right? Then follows the gong show of dropped pop ups, ground balls going by two fielders to the fence, kids out of position, and beautiful strike out pitches getting past the catcher so they’re called balls. Kids not catching the ball when it’s thrown to them, or not hanging on to it for that final out. It didn’t help that the umpire completely blew a call at home plate early in the game which cost us a run. We had 5 or 6 chances to end that game and win it. 4 or 5 kids could have saved that game. No one did.
We took a 7-1 lead into the sixth inning and gave up 5 runs with 2 outs. Final score, 7-7.
I keep telling my kids that we’re tough to beat, but the reality is also that we need to finish. All of my latest ties we have allowed the other team to come from behind. I saw this play called Honus and me. In it Honus Wagner said, “Baseball is organized humiliation.” I also saw in the epic Ken Burns documentary about baseball that, “Baseball is made to break your heart.” Earl Weaver said baseball is the greatest game because, “you must give the other man his turn.” You can’t run out the clock, or play keep away, you must give the other guy his turn.
All that makes baseball probably the hardest of all to close, but we need to learn to close it. the lesson for my guys? Everyone can make a difference. Everyone. The key, is that when the opportunity comes to you in the form of a little white ball, make a play. Don’t wait for someone else. You be that guy. Be the guy to pick it up. Be the guy to catch it. Be the guy to throw it. Be the guy. Make a play.
If we can do that, I know we’ll win.
Normally, this time of night I would sit down and start to code, or maybe play a game, or catch an episode of Fringe streamed off my PS3. But tonight, after a great baseball practice I felt the need to share one of my favorite all time baseball stories.
I guess it all started about 18 months ago, in the fall of 2008. We got together with some friends and decided to put together a winter baseball team. All our boys were moving from Farm to Minors – from machine pitch to kid pitch and I knew two things. First, kids that played some winter ball and then went into little league were a lot better prepared than kids that only started up a month before the season began. Second, I knew that the jump to kid pitch was a big jump. I lied, there was a third thing I knew. On my farm team were 4 or 5 kids who didn’t get drafted into the minors. Getting drafted was tough.
So we pulled together some friends and we said, “hey look, we all want to play minors next year and there’s no guarantee any of them will get drafted.” So we figured if we put together a team for winter ball, played up against better competition and focused on pitching, we could:
What I also had in mind is that I wanted to learn how to teach pitching. I often saw a lot of kids that wanted to pitch, but no one knew how to teach them. I figured if everyone bought into the idea that our focus was to teach pitching and get drafted, who cared if we won any games or not? That was a good idea, because it turns out we only won a single game – but all the kids improved. They all learned to pitch. And most importantly, every single one got drafted into minors.
The one drag about playing in Tempe South minors was that we did draft. I couldn’t just pick my whole team. I could only get a few of the players that I’d invested months in teaching. Sometimes that was a good thing. Some kids just need a change of scenery and I’d helped them as much as I could. With other kids it was hard for me, the kid, and parents. We wanted to play together, to keep going but I just couldn’t pick everyone. However, this I didn’t expect. It was awesome knowing someone on every team in the league. We had friends everywhere. So my team, my Red Sox, started practicing, and drilling, and learning and my God was it fun. I love teaching baseball.
This was my first year managing in the minors, so I was a little nervous. I was going up against legendary local coaches like Griffin Merkel, John Briscoe and Mark McGinnis. Virtually everyone in the league had coached and managed more than I had. I was lucky to be selected as a manager. Some of these guys managed a real club team, a team that had gone 17-0 in fall baseball. What did I know? But I gave it my all and most importantly so did my beloved Red Sox.
After three weeks of practice, we scrimmaged the Cubs. We had a plan. I was ready. The boys were ready. We got shelled. It was a humbling experience, but like winter ball, we weren’t really playing to win. We were playing to learn specific things about our team. Who could pitch, who could play here, and who could catch? And after that, we spent two practices covering lessons we learned during the game.
Finally it was time for the season. And here’s my real story. Surprisingly, we came out of the gate and won our first game. It was a close contest, but we prevailed. Putting our players in positions of strength they did really, really well and it was fun. Then we won our second game. It was a little less of a nail biter, but we pulled it out. After the third win, it started to feel like something special. I remember our third contest. We faced Jay Bauerle’s Indians. It was a close game. We lead the whole time. But when my starter began to get tired, the Indians came roaring back. They pulled within one run in the bottom of the sixth. And we put in Bandit. (One thing you should know about my teams. I always give the kids nicknames). With the tying run on third and two outs, Bandit struck out the last batter to seal the win. My best friend and assistant Coach Ed looks at me says, “I think we found our closer.”
Suddenly, it felt like this was a special team with a special group of kids. We were undefeated. But we weren’t the only ones. The Astros – coached by Kevin Costigan and John Bistany, were right there matching us win for win. And suddenly Astros V Red Sox started to look like a showdown. And it was. The Astros were a great team. And yet, we prevailed. We started the season 7-0. We eventually went on to finish in first place with a record of 10-1-3. Three Ties! We were a tough team to beat.
RedSox at Diamondbacks Day 2009
The best part of the entire season was that the kids really liked each other. They liked hanging out together, they liked going to D-Backs games together. The loved playing baseball together. I really enjoyed managing them. It was the highlight of my week.
We were heavily favored to win. But this is little league. Suddenly those teams that seemed so easy to beat in the begging of the season were hitting and fielding. Easy ground balls in game 3 that lead to hits and runs were suddenly outs. Three of the first four minors playoff games were decided by 2 runs or less. Tempe South has something special. We play at a local field where all 4 diamonds back up together – and it feels like the whole community comes out to watch. Two elementary schools in particular feed our league and on Saturday nights all the minors and majors play – it seems like the whole neighborhood turns out to watch. People will walk, or ride their bikes down to the ball park to see 150 kids play baseball for two hours. There’s nothing quite like it. And as you can imagine, at playoff time, we really draw a crowd.
While we won our first game, it was a our second that tripped us up. Heavily favored to win the entire tournament we didn’t expect to get into a dog fight. Nor did we expect to drop our second playoff game by a score of 4-3. Four to Three! In a league where scoring 13 runs was common.
I remember being personally devastated. I remember feeling the tension rise as the kids went from discussing what they would do after they won, to realizing the game was slipping away from them. My best hitters started to press. They were swinging at garbage. I had two kids who’d hit 700 all year long – seriously, 3 out of 4 times they came to the plate they hit – both strike out back to back with the tying run on third. We had two excellent chances to tie the game but just couldn’t get the runner home from third. We were shell shocked. All of us.
Ed and I didn’t know what to do. Then Ed’s wife Beth suggested Ed loan me their “believe rock”. It was a simple rock, a souvenir, from the Boston Red Sox 2004 World Series win. As the story goes, the Sox had made a similar rock with the word believe on it. And the luck of the rock had helped them win the series. Ed was a little embarrassed to tell me about it. To him it sounded kind of hokey, but something about it struck me just right. We needed to get our minds off the loss and move forward. We needed to get our swagger back – to shift our thinking and the rock seemed like just the thing.
So at the next game – we got to the field early, and because it was hotter than sin out in late May, we all put ice towels on our heads, and we stood in a circle around home plate. I held the stone out and said, “I am Coach Scott, and I believe today everyone will do their best. And win or lose, the Red Sox will play their best game ever. I then passed the stone to the player on my right. Then in sequence the stone made its way around the circle, each and every player stated their name and something positive they believed about the team. Finally the stone reached Ed who said my favorite thing. He said simply, “My name is Coach Ed, and I believe in the Red Sox, and I believe in each one of you.” Then we all came into the middle, put our hands on the stone and chanted, “I believe.”
I was going to say that I don’t know if it was the stone or not, but that would be a lie. It was the stone. Granted, the rock can’t play second base, or swing a bat, but it did focus us. It did bring us together. The ritual of sharing our hopes and dreams I believe was a powerful thing and it showed up that day against the Cubs. We found ourselves in the losers bracket, and if we wanted to win a championship we would have to climb up the losers ladder and beat the team from the winning bracket twice. Not only that, but the way the days fell we would have to be very careful and very lucky with our pitching. Little league has strict pitch counts and if players throw too many pitches in one game they are ineligible for the next. Winners get more days to rest. We definitely didn’t take the easy road.
I found out later, that one of the cubs players not knowing who they would play that day, ran up to the field and when they saw our banner shouted, “Oh Crap, it’s the Red Sox!” We won in convincing fashion 13-6. Our boys came out swinging from the first pitch and kept it up to the last. Near the end of the game, I remember looking at Showtime (our best player) and telling him, “You have 14 pitches to end this game.” The meaning was clear. If we went over 14 pitches we would be unable to use him in the next game. He threw only 13. And ended the game with a diving catch near third. The Red Sox definitely believed.
For our next game it was the same. We’d show up early, perform our pregame ritual of sharing our beliefs about the game and each other, and then we would go play. Win or lose, I believed everyone would do their best. Again, we scored 14 runs and gave up less than 10. We stayed alive to play another day. We joked we were playing Maximum Baseball. If we won it all we would play 7 games. The regular season was only 14. We’d play another half season – if we could get there.
And finally, we faced our nemesis, the team that had knocked us into the losers bracket – and that was the most intense hard fought game I can ever remember playing in. But we prevailed. Both teams played an excellent game, but in the end, we were able to pull it out. We were going to the championship against the A’s. We had made it.
The first game of the championship was quite dully actually. We had all our pitchers so we threw our ace. Big Sarge. He threw a complete game and The Red Sox won in dominating fashion. However… the rain started to fall. A second game would have to be postponed. 6 days later – Game 2 of the Minors championship was on.
It didn’t start well for the Red Sox. The A’s threw their crafty left handed pitcher and our batters hungry for hits just couldn’t hold back. We played a strategy where our B-Pitchers would start the game (hopefully chewing up innings) so that we could finish with our Ace. That strategy didn’t work out quite like we planned. We were the visiting team and after 2 innings we found ourselves down 7 to 0. That was hard, but… our catcher – we called him Mad Dog – caught a runner missing home plate when he ’scored’ a run. The player ran up to the plate but never touched it and went into the dug out. Mad Dog turned to the Umpire and said, “he missed the plate.” The ump said, “I can’t help you but your coach can.” Mad Dog came to me and I told him what to do. “Go stand on home plate. Throw the pitcher the ball. Now have the pitcher throw you the ball. Step on the plate. Now look a the umpire.” (this is called an appeal) The ump called the runner out. I couldn’t believe it. Our stands erupted in cheers and so did our boys. It was a silly play – the other side just didn’t realize he’d missed home. But we needed the lift and at the start of the next inning it showed.
I will never forget standing at third base, in my coaches box, rocking back and forth waiting for something to happen. And it did. My son got a lead off double. Then right behind him Showtime blasted a home run to the fence. He absolutely crushed the ball and with the speed of those two kids there was no way anyone was going to get the ball in before they crossed home plate. Suddenly it was 7-2 and I thought, “here we come”. A couple more hits, some aggressive base running and we were able to scratch out 2 more runs. Suddenly it was 7-4. A much closer game. Finally we were able to bring in our ace. And the battle was on. We held them scoreless, and took the lead. 8-7 the next inning. Then they took it back, 9-8. The last batter in our lineup tied the game with a home run. 9-9. Our defense held in the bottom of the 6th inning to send the game into extra innings. It was a crazy, a minor league second game championship that went into extra innings.
For what ever reason, we came out swinging. We scored 5 runs in the top of the 7th and held the A’s scoreless. I’ll never forget the look on Rocket’s face (my son) when the batter hit the last out of the game, a pop up to first. Everyone rushed in on Sarge but gave him the room to make the catch. I could see that Matt so badly wanted to get to that ball but he believed in his teammate, gave him space and watched anxiously as he caught it cleanly and the game was over. We had done the impossible. We had climbed up from the losers bracket and won a championship. We had believed and we were rewarded for our belief.
I have no idea what will happen this season. But I do know that I now carry a believe rock with me where ever I go. It was a gift. A pocket size river rock with the word “Believe” inscribed in gold letters. A special souvenir for a season I’ll never forget. Whenever I get down, whenever I feel like the world has turned against me, I remember those boys and the purity and strength of their belief, and I have faith. Confidence makes all the difference. You just have to believe.
Sometimes winning it all simply means that you kept the faith when life threw you a curve.
All the teams are drafted and the practices have started. Our first practice is tomorrow and I can hardly weight. Today at school the boys all shared what teams they were on. A few of the kids even played catch after school. There’s so much to do and only 4 weeks until the season starts. I can’t believe how fast the year flew by. Last year we had this amazing season. I still remember getting ready for the draft. I had the number one pick. But Minors drafts are serpentine. So I picked number one, then watched the next 15 kids go off the board. I got two more picks, then watched another 15 kids go by. And so on and so on through the draft. When I got home I was convinced I’d messed it all up.
We ended up in first place and won the championship in exciting fashion. You just never know what is going to happen.
This year the draft did not at all go the way I expected. No matter how prepared you are, I just can’t seem to predict what other people will do or when they’ll do it. But that’s what makes it so much fun. What matters is that we have good kids, good families and good coaches. And now I can’t wait. This should be a really fun and competitive season. To paraphrase my high school football coach, “We’re not teaching the boys baseball, we’re teaching them to be men, we just use baseball to do it.”
Four weeks and counting. I can’t wait.
Well, baseball is right around the corner again. We just wrapped up the spring try outs. And for me that has to be one of the best days in baseball. In Tempe South we call it showcase but what I love about it is that everyone is doing their best. The boys come out to try and impress, not only the coaches and parents, but their peers and cohorts. Everyone wants to show what they’ve got.
Despite the poor economy, our league is holding it’s own and will have a solid number of teams and judging by the talent I saw we should have a very balanced and competitive league. It should be fun this spring around the Tempe baseball diamonds.
I love coaching youth baseball. I really do enjoy helping kids learn and live up to their potential.
However, watching a team go through it’s cycles of learning can be one of the most challenging things you can imagine as a parent. You just want to protect your kids from all the pain in the world – and that includes all your kids – not just yours but the ones on your team. But sometimes, they have to go through those trials and tribulations to get better.
My oldest son plays on a club baseball team that has steadily improved over the season. They have played in 3 championship games (all tournaments) this season. They have yet to win one. Yet each tournament represents a significant improvement, another step forward.
The first tournament seemed almost like a fluke. They lost a game, tied a game, then won a game and were in the championship. The lesson there was that they can actually play for a championship.
The second time around they lost their two opening games but came back the next day to blow out the two teams they faced and end up in the championship. They ran out of gas in the championship game and ultimately ended up losing by one run. They walked away realizing they needed to play better on opening day to improve their chances on championship day.
This past weekend they had two strong, strong games on opening day of the tournament and then more or less walked into the championship game. There they ran into a team that had to fight their way in through a close game. The sudden rise in competitiveness caught our kids off guard and they lost by a wide margin. Hopefully, the lesson there will be about finishing.
When they are ready, and hungry they are a tough team to beat. As a parent and a fan I wanted them to win every single game, every championship. There is disappointment. However, I think our kids also learned that there are no “easy” games. Some games come easier than others, but in any competitive environment where winners are artificially restricted – every match needs to be treated with respect.
What do I mean by artificially restricted?
Real life provides many, many opportunities for many, many people to win. Today my dad forwarded me a list of the Tech industries top 40 billionaires. Now think about that. the Top 40! In fact, there are over 700 billionaires world wide. Before the economic crises there were over 1,100. And that doesn’t count multi-millionaires, or just plain millionaires. Okay, lets forget money. What about the olympics? Over 300! More if you count all the medals given to teams. My point is that in life there are MANY ways to win, and very often there are many ways to win within the same space. We like to create the notion of being winners or losers, but who wouldn’t consider themselves a winner if they had a billion dollars? How about $100M? Not enough to make any of Forbes list but more than the typical lottery.
Sometimes just getting to play is a form of winning. The experiences we have shape who we are. The choices we make, the lessons we commit to learn I believe help us create our future. That’s one reason I love youth coaching so much. We can shape peoples futures through instruction and encouragement. We can setup challenges that test our young kids and give them the opportunity to learn. But we shouldn’t be suckered into believing that these young artificial limits are real or representative of “real life”. Competition can prepare us to handle difficult situations, challenges and opportunities. But the real gift is the confidence that comes from knowing we can be challenged and not only survive, but thrive.
Scott
It’s baseball season again and I’m so excited I can hardly stand it. I love baseball, but specifically, I really love little league baseball. Few things are as rewarding as getting out on the diamond and teaching a group of kids how to play baseball. Probably what drives me to want to be a good coach was my own experience with baseball. You hear famous people like Jeff Foxworthy talk about how his Dad left when he was really young and he didn’t want to be that Dad when he grew up. When I was a kid my coaches were TERRIBLE. They didn’t know the game, or how to teach it, and if you didn’t know it you were out of luck.
It wasn’t a lot of fun. Years later, I would refer to baseball as the cow game, you were just cattle standing around in a field. Where’s the sport in that?
Today I have a very different perspective. I’ve been studying the game of baseball for nearly a decade now and a few things have been revealed to me that I just didn’t see when I was younger. If I can “not be that coach”” – the one who just threw kids into games without teaching them anything – Maybe I can help a few of them learn the same love of the game that has enveloped me.
Basically, my philosophy is, if I can teach the players how to play baseball then baseball can teach them about life. Okay, maybe it won’t be that profound but if I can teach them some skills, maybe they can have some fun, enjoy the game and make a few wry observations of their own.
Besides, learning can be fun.
Time to Think:
What I really like about baseball is that strange balance between inactivity and action. Baseball gives the players time to think about what is going to happen. It gives them time to ask themselves, what am I going to do if they hit the ball to me?
Time in the Spot Light:
Another great thing in baseball, is that virtually everyone gets a turn in the spotlight. Whether it happens when the players come to bat, or in the field, like it or not, everyone will get a chance to be the focus of attention. Unlike football where only some players can handle the ball, the baseball can be hit to anyone on the diamond – and when that ball is hit to you, the spot light is on. It’s your chance to perform. And that’s maybe one of the best life lessons of baseball. In my experience opportunity does come to everyone eventually, but not all the time, and not always when we expect it. The question is are we prepared? Are we paying attention? Have we already thought about what we’re going to do when the opportunity reaches us? Did we imagine the play through before hand? Or are we sitting around kicking the dirt?
Opportunity Knocks:
Because that bouncing, unpredictable ball when it comes our way usually also brings with it attention (wanted or unwanted) and people will judge us on how well we respond to it. And how we respond to a baseball can be very symbolic of how we react to other opportunities in our lives:
Some balls are hit too hard to field. Sometimes players make mistakes and they misplay a ball, or they try to get a ball meant for someone else. None of those mistakes matter. None of them are terribly important. What really matters is that they try to make the most of the opportunities that come their way. And I for one think that is a great life lesson.
It’s what you make of it:
Because while things might go wrong, they can also go very very right. And a player can not turn a ground ball into an out unless they make a play. And when they do, when they put it all together, when they charge that ball, step up and throw a line drive to first to get the out, it is one of the most rewarding experiences in a young person (or any persons) life. People cheer, your team mates give you the high five and then the most amazing thing happens, everyone expects you to do it again. Your esteem in the world rises.
And that’s just one of the many reasons I love baseball so much. Over the course of the season I’ll post some notes and links, and maybe even a few tools for how I run baseball teams. There’s a zillion websites out there talking baseball but what’s great about the internet is that there’s always room for one more.
Scott
When you write a blog, it’s kind of hard to tell who you’re writing for. I suppose the vast majority of blogs are written for family and friends. I’m not a facebook or myspace kind of guy – and keeping a public diary is kind of strange, but last night my Mom asked me to write down the story of my oldest son’s amazing hit and I thought – hey perhaps it’s not too much to be a proud parent.
My oldest son goes by the baseball nickname of ‘Spider‘. How did he get that nickname? When he was six he was on a coach pitch team where everyone got a nick name. There was Dizzy, Ox, Large, Gun and… Spider because he was the only kid who could catch a fly ball. Spider’s catch flies. The nicknames were fun as well because at times its easier for the parents and the kids to remember a nickname, especially when you have four Taylors, or three Marks on your team. Besides, nicknames are part of baseball. The Diamondbacks Training Centers hand out nicknames during their week long training sessions. So the nickname Spider stuck. And Spider stuck with baseball.
Now fast forward a few years. Ryan developed a heck of a swing. He really cared about getting the mechanics of his swing just right. He also is a smart kid and he learned early one of the laws of physics:
F= M * V2
Force equals, mass times velocity squared. In other words, if your bat moves faster it will hit a ball harder than a heavier bat moving slower. Lots of kids go for heavy bats when they start out. The pro’s did too. The theory being that a big heavy bat will send that tiny ball real far. Unfortunately for most kids – those heavy bats can teach really bad swing mechanics. Ryan learned early that a lighter bat he could swing faster, and control better would produce just as big a hit (if not bigger) then the heavy bats his friends use. Translated into action, at an early age Ryan could hit those flies that earned him his nickname, and he could pretty much hit them over outfielders heads.
In farm / machine pitch, Ryan could really tee off on the consistent pitching of the machine. He earned quite a reputation as a big hitter. But he also worked his defensive fundamentals too. By the time he reached minors, he developed a kind of situational awareness that is uncommon in many 9 year olds. One catch in particular stood out. In a game against the Cubs, their best player came up to bat. With runners on the corners, Christian Broadus hit a tremendous shot. A real blast out to right center field. Spider happened to be playing center and he just got a great jump off the ball. Ranging to his left he turned into a full sprint and laid out for the catch. He snow-coned the ball just above the grass. That in itself was spectacular, he rolled and popped up glove high to show it was a clean play and if he had stopped right there it would have been awesome. But the kid had the presence of mind to realize that the runner at third had not tagged up. I mean who expected anyone to catch that hit?
So from Right center field Ryan fired a strike to the third baseman. Unfortunately the third baseman couldn’t handle the long throw and he missed it. So the runner got back and tagged. However the kid did stick with the play, and scooped the ball up and fired it home where the catcher didn’t miss it. They tagged the runner out at the plate. Ah, yeah… the old 8-5-2 inning ending double play.
That whole season I didn’t want Ryan to pitch because I didn’t want him to tire his arm out. I’d heard all these horror stories of kids hurting their arms at a young age. Never the less, Ryan could throw and I trusted his coach. Coach Treese is a great guy who is wonderful with the kids and really tries to teach them how to play baseball the right way. I’ve never seen him lose his temper or get frustrated with the kids. He is what is good in youth baseball, patient, firm and steadfast. It’s not that he doesn’t challenge the kids, but he always does it in a way that leaves them whole and believing in themselves.
It was playing for Coach Treese that Ryan first started to earn his reputation as Mr. Clutch. He played for the Cardinals, and when he came up to bat, people learned to expect big hits. Ryan batted .587 with a slugging percentage of .980. In the final game against the Diamondbacks, he lead off with a ground rule double to center field. The ball travelled 180 feet and it bounced over the fence. He eventually came in to score, and the lowly Cardinals who crawled up through the losers bracket won the first game of a double header.
Heading back into the second game, Spider again came up big with hits and runs scored but it was his role as a closer that really cemented him as mister clutch. Clinging to a 1 run lead (6-5) going into the bottom of the sixth inning, Ryan took the mound again after throwing 55 pitches through the first two games. With a day limit of 75 pitches, he had just 20 to close the game out and hold onto the lead. The first batter he faced hit a long fly ball to left field. The left fielder made an aggressive move to catch the ball but missed it. The ball rolled to the fence the batter flew around the base paths stopping at third with a stand up triple.
With no outs, the tying run stood on third. I remember keeping score. I remember being sick to my stomach. I thought, “Why does it have to be my kid on the mound?” Looking down at the score card I realized he was facing the heart of their lineup. If we lost – I couldn’t imagine the summer of misery that lay ahead. Spider faced the next batter. He popped out to first base. One down. The next batter. Strike out. The other coach asked for a pitch count. 68. Ryan could face the last batter. With two down and the tying run 60 feet away, Spider induced the Diamondbacks slugger to hit a tapper back to the mound. He calmly scooped it up and flipped it to first base. Just like that. Hats flew in the air, parents cried, Coaches jumped around like little kids. Ice cream sandwiches – a token prize in case the Cardinals lost the first game – had turned to milk in a bath of now melted ice. And no one cared. That memory lasted us all summer. After the game I asked Ryan what it felt like to have to pitch that final inning. He said, “Thank God I had the ball. I was the only one who could have won that game.” The confidence was shocking and reassuring.
In high school I played football. I was very good. I even played on two teams that one league championships and one that won the Class A state title. But I never experienced what Ryan had experienced, being the go to guy on a championship team. It never occurred to me that he might get that chance again.
Fast forward one year. It’s true the Cardinals did not win the Minor League Team Championship, but this year Ryan was eligible for the Minor League All Star Team. It was the first time we’d ever played baseball 5 nights a week. It was also a lot of fun to play with other really great players. Suddenly everyone had confidence in everyone else. The kids could make plays without worrying whether the other guy was going to catch the ball or not. Everyone could hit. Everyone could throw, everyone could pitch. We were having fun. We were optimistic. We ran right into back to back buzz saws called Ahwahtukee and Chandler North.
To put it in perspective, over the last several years, not just the state champion, but the region (best in the West) has come out of District 13. Chandler National and Ahwahtukee have both sent teams to Williamsport. Their kids are big, strong, athletic and they have a lot of them. The upside of their systems is that they consistently put together great teams that can compete with California teams. The downside to their system is that a lot of great players never get to play All Stars. There’s just too many.
District tournaments (I think all the tournaments) run on a pattern of pool play followed by a tournament ladder. In our district in the 9-10 year level, 7 teams play 6 games and the best 4 teams advance to a single elimination tournament. The winners of the semifinals go to the finals, the winners of the finals advance to state. We needed to finish in the top four. Our first two games were against the District powerhouses. Needless to say we started pool play with an unimpressive 0-2 record. 6 runs scored, 48 runs given up. That’s right. 48. You see, in tournament play you can steal home. And you can steal when the pitcher isn’t looking. In fact, you can steal pretty much any time you want. That was kind of new to the boys in Tempe. In Tempe South, we view minors as more of an instructional league. But if you want to get to Williamsport, you have to be much, much more aggressive.
Starting from there, we needed to get to something like 3-3 to have any prayer of making the tournament. Unlike any other team in the district our 9-10’s also drew the unlucky straw of having to play 4 games in a row. That’s right: Back To Back To Back To Back. The last three games were played at 5:30 in 110 degree heat. For reasons unknown the City of Tempe decided to make its excellent baseball fields available for the tournament this year. Apparently they couldn’t wait 3 days to mow the lawns or something. So instead of playing on 7 lighted beautiful baseball diamonds at the Tempe Sports Complex, three cities tried to play 72 games in 8 days on two lighted fields and two softball fields. Thanks Tempe. I’m guessing someone’s kid didn’t get picked for All Stars.
The boys from Tempe South battled through both of the next two games and finished their four game stretch 2-2. They got nearly a week off and returned to play again, a much closer game that left them 3-2. Good, but not good enough to get in if they lost to Chandler National South. The sixth game was the do or die game. Win and they got into the tournament. Lose, and it was the end of the season.
Spider took the mound and pitched a beautiful game. He pitched 5 and 1/3 innings giving up only two runs. The game went back and forth between TSLL and CNSLL. By the 6th, Temp had scored 4. With a 4-2 lead, Spider hit his pitch count, and was sent to center field. The reliever had great velocity but struggled a bit with location. This was the break CNS was waiting for. In a tense top of the 6th inning they scored 3 runs to take the lead. Tempe was down 5-4, but not out. Austin Treese, Eric’s son scored the run that tied the score in the bottom of the 6th to send the game into extra innings. In the top of the 7th again Chandler National South scratched out a run. It was 6-5. They brought in their closer.
Hunter Olsen was our first batter. He took a massive cut at a fastball and ripped it! Right at the short stop. The Chandler shortstop was a terrific fielder, he scooped up the hot ball and threw a frozen rope to first getting Hunter by a step. The next batter was Conner Woods, an extremely talented 9 year old who can do everything. Conner struggled to make contact, but had the presence of mind and the eye to lay off the outside pitches. He worked the count full and ultimately walked. The tying run was aboard. Up walked Spider. The second baseman said loud enough for everyone to hear, “This game is over!”
Spider took a couple of practice swings and stepped into the box.
Now, one thing I want to point out, is that this year Ryan did not hit like last year. It was somewhat of a mystery for him all season. In the end we believe it was a combination of three things. Firstly, everyone knew he was good so they tried to pitch around him. Second, we use 13 year old umpires in the regular minor league season and it took them 3 (or 8 or 9) games to learn the strike zone. Third, Ryan really, really, really wanted to hit one over the fence. So when you combine a swing for the fences stroke, with wild pitching and a strike zone that runs from your shoe tops to 3 inches over your hat – it’s a little hard to get in the groove. (The blur in the picture at the left is the ball flying by Ryan’s head. The umpire called that a strike.) By the end of the season however Spider was getting his form back. In practice, his hits went far, fast, and they hurt to catch. The night before the Chandler South Game at practice Ryan finally hit one over. I was standing two feet outside the fence line and caught the ball at my neck. I couldn’t believe it. Later, I asked him, “Why don’t you think you’re hitting in the games like you hit in practice?” He didn’t hesitate to answer, “Because they’re not pitching me in the middle.” “What about that hit you had the other night? It was a beautiful shot, right over the shortstop’s head,” I said. “It was middle in but low. Everything they throw me is low and away.” I wondered what would happen if they gave him one right down the pipe.
As it turns out, I got to see.
Ryan dug in and entered his stance. The assistant coach for the other team was overhead telling the head coach that maybe they should walk Ryan. After all, he’d hit the ball pretty well all night. “We’ll see,” said the CNSLL Manager. Bat waggling, crouched but loose, Ryan was ready. The pitcher reared back and tried to blow one by him. One right down the middle of the plate. Belt high. It was the first really decent pitch Ryan had seen in a month. He didn’t miss it. The ball flew off his bat like a laser, it split the gap in right center field and hit the fence two feet below the line. Conner was gone in a flash from first and Spider was right on his heels. It seemed like the ball was at the fence before the outfielders even had a chance to turn around. Conner rounded third. There was a strong throw from the outfield to the plate, Conner got down and slid – the ball popped loose. Game tied. Everyone in Tempe South went wild. Ryan just stood on third and smiled.
One pitch later, he took home on a tapper to third. It was a gutsy play that happened on instinct, sheer determination and flawless execution. Ryan’s big toe slid over the plate while the catcher was receiving the throw. The umpire called him safe as the Catcher tried to lay down the tag. Tempe South 7. Chandler National South 6.
It might not be the greatest hit ever in the history of All Star Little League, but it was the greatest hit in the history of our family. That Ryan knew the game was on the line, that everyone was looking to him to do something and that he delivered was simply incredible. It may sound corny to take inspiration from one’s children, and every day in their own way my kids inspire me, but his toughness when it matters most, his competitive spirit is awesome to be a part of.
Tempe South is now in the tournament. Their game tonight was rained out and they will play tomorrow. Win or lose, I will be eternally proud of all of them, but I will cherish that memory of my son, walking from the dugout, bat in hand and seeing the confidence in his eyes and knowing that if anyone can make it happen, Spider can. And he did.
- Proud Dad, Scott
Epilogue: Tempe South lost to Chandler National North, the team that ultimately won the district. Our boys did not play their best game and Chandler National is an excellent team. We wish them the best of luck in the rest of the tournament and hope they win State. While it was a disappointing end to a fun All Star tournament, I am still very proud of the boys in blue, white, and red. Especially #38. Go Spider!