Little League Follies

The younger heir to the Palatial Baseball estate is enjoying his first year of Little League baseball (or “Minors,” as we call it here in beautiful south-central Wisconsin). I’ve already signed an affidavit giving my wife permission to shoot me through the head if I ever become Little League Dad, so I’m just sitting back and offering advice only when asked.

And most of the people involved with the league and the other teams have pretty much the same attitude. We are blessed -- the two coaches are very cool, the other lads are supportive and team-centered, and the parents I’ve met are under no delusions that what happens this year will be reflected on the back of their kids’ baseball cards.

But, you know…there are always one or two who have to stir things up.

Before one game, I heard the coach from the other team tell his kids, “They call it hitting the ball, not walking the ball.”

OK, so not everybody’s down with the Moneyball approach. But that’s innocuous compared to what I heard a coach tell his batter before this morning’s game:

Think of the ball as your sister – you really want to hit it!

I couldn’t help myself. Perhaps a little too loudly (or not loudly enough, depending on your point of view), I had to say, “Oh, domestic violence is fun, isn’t it?”

Maybe this guy worked with Bobby Cox and Brett Myers. I kid, of course…