Why I don't coach baseball

We're in the throws of the season of two sports. Last year in the spring the boys played both Little League baseball and soccer. Little League was Mondays and Wednesdays while Soccer practice was Tuesdays and games were Saturdays. This year is a tad more civilized - Little League is still Mondays and Wednesdays while Soccer practice is Friday afternoons and the games are Saturdays.

I truly love being a coach. In the winter I coach the sport I probably know the best, basketball. It is a simple, elegant game. A ball, two baskets with nets on either side of a rectangular court. Certainly there are comparisons to soccer but I understand holding, double dribble and rebounding.

I also love getting to know a group of my children's peers. I love that look they give me at the beginning of practice, that look of "I'm going to make you PROUD". I love that they call me "Coach Allison" in the grocery store.

I also love that the only way they can really get hurt is by tripping. Of course, it could be a serious hurt, but at this age nothing that involve stitches.

Baseball is completely different.

Our Little League team has had a rocky start. Essentially the dad who agreed to be the head coach didn't tell anyone he backed out so we had multiple practices with no coaches. A set of dads just stepped up to the plate (yes, I wrote that) to give these 20+ kids a chance to field, hit and run around the bases. It has been just a wonderful example of community spirit.

One dad needs to bring a younger son. This kid desperately wants to be with the older kids so last night he was on the field. According to one of my kids and some parents, he picked up a metal bat and started swinging. Unfortunately, another kid's head was in close proximity.

What I first saw was a mother running to her car and grab a handful of napkins. Then I saw a little boy run to the playground where I was with my daughter. Then I saw the dad chase the kid, barely able to contain his rage while the kid was going higher, and higher up the play set. He finally got the kid and sternly said, "you've got to be careful with the bat".

I asked another mom to go check if it was one of our kids. I watched her toddler and she ran back to say that the mother was with the struck kid so our children were o.k. Then we saw both parents bringing the boy over to the car with a big white towel pressed on the left side of his head becoming streaked with crimson. They were taking him to the hospital.