It had been the intention to let the local sporting year draw to a quiet close with my daughter’s end-of-season softball tournament. In fact, an editorial detailing the hopes for the scholastic sporting year upcoming had already been drafted. The balance of the summer would have been focused on discussing the projections and teams for the fall campaigns in football, volleyball and cross country. 

That was, until the tournament. It was a big softball tournament. Some 70 teams in several age brackets participated. It was done over two days at the very nicely-constructed ballfields in Rowlett and the surrounding area. 

There was plenty of great competition, and the teams certainly enjoyed the experience. Being a fan, without being a reporter, was also a bonus. It was fun just to take in the games without scribbling notes or scorekeeping, or jockeying for photos. 

It also allowed the opportunity to observe more than just what was happening on the field. And, while most of what was witnessed was good clean fun, there were unfortunately exceptions. 

The first bit of unpleasantness came from a coach – thankfully not from a local team. In one particularly exciting passage of play, featuring base-running mistakes and an umpire’s call which went the wrong way (against the coach in question), the coach threw a full water bottle against the dug-out fence. It didn’t explode, but it sprayed water around and rattled the chain link fence pretty hard. It wasn’t a subtle act. 

No doubt, 8U-coach pitch softball is an emotional game, but come on. 

The act typified the outlook of his team. It was pretty clear that his charges were intimidated by the coach. That is not accurate – they were scared of him. Scared to make a mistake, which prompted inaction on the field and fed his wrath. 

In this reporter’s opinion, we sail into dangerous waters when coaches want to win more than players. We are talking youth sports here, kids eight years old. Many of them are struggling with the basic mechanics of the game. The experience should be, above all else, a positive experience.     

The second item of note came on day two, during a morning match-up between a local side and a travel team.  As mentioned, this was a coach-pitch age group. So, a coach from the batting team pitches the ball to his own hitters. It works pretty well and builds confidence in the young hitters, in their first step up from tee-ball. 

Curiously, the travel team coach, before almost every pitch to his batters, would receive the ball on the mound, turn his back to the plate, and check his phone. After this was repeated several times for each hitter, it became clear that there was something odd going on. 

The coach who was pitching was receiving messages from a lady – dressed in team colors – seated next to the dug-out. It wasn’t obvious, but by closely observing the two, it was clear that the coach was receiving communications from the lady, batter by batter, and sometimes pitch by pitch.

It didn’t make sense, but it was happening. I checked my environment – yup, it was an 8U softball game. 

While there was nothing illegal (I guess) with the practice of calling pitches, it felt like an affront to the game. What were they calling? Location and tempo?

I don’t suppose the hitters knew any different, but kids are darned observant, and you can bet that some of them well understood that the coach was being told where and how to throw the ball to them. 

What the heck kind of message was that?!  

My initial reaction of disbelief and head-shaking gave way to sadness. Why must we, as adults, continue to  degrade the great sport of baseball and its close relative, softball? 

The games are old games. Like an old house, there are drafts around the windows. That’s OK, its part of the game. We don’t need to calk every possible crack in the window sill. 

Rather, we would be better served to appreciate the grandeur and stately beauty of the old house.

On a related note, many thanks to Chase and Justin (and other local coaches) for doing it the right way.