This page shouldn't have to exist - not anywhere, certainly not on WebBall.
But baseball doesn't exist apart from the real world.

- Richard Todd  (first posted in 2001)

If you ever needed a reason to keep young ballplayers on the field...

As I write this, I don't know any of the details yet. (Perhaps they don't really matter.) So let me just give you the news, as I heard it, only 10 minutes ago in a phone call from my own son who himself just turned 21.

One of his former teammates, one of the kids I coached and managed for a number of baseball seasons, is dead - not just dead but murdered - the victim of a gunshot wound delivered at close range - an ultimate act of violence.
Without revealing any details about who he was or what exactly happened, let's just call him John.
John was a truly memorable ballplayer - a keen eye at the plate, a daring runner on the basepaths - a real Charlie Hustle type. He played short, third, outfield, did some pitching. His batting average was always near the top of the rankings; his steal percentage always among the best.

John was a fearless competitor in his teens - the kind of kid you'd rather have on your side not theirs. He was also, I'm told, a bright student, honor role and all that. But it was that competitive streak that was both his strongest asset and ultimately - at least for baseball - his undoing.

John was a scrapper - perhaps more Ty Cobb than Charlie Hustle. And I lost him to baseball after an incident at one game when the target of his scrappiness was a teammate rather than an opponent.

I can't recall now what or who started the fight in the dugout. But in the end it was John who paid the price. After soul-searching talks with both him and his parents, John decided to quit the team. Perhaps he simply had had enough of baseball, but more than likely he was, I suspect, too embarrassed to want to return to the team.

I tried to keep him.

At least, I like to think I tried. But maybe I should have tried harder. Maybe as a coach I was content (for the sake of team spirits or some such) to solve the problem the most expedient way - let the problem kid go.

John did continue in other sports and in school. Nothing came to an end the day he quit baseball. But I can't help but wonder now if I did the right thing. What was my responsibility to this player, this young person, as one of his coaches and mentors? Would more effort to keep him on the team have made a positive difference in his life? Would he have benefitted from a few more seasons with the additional focus of baseball? Would it have kept him away from other paths, other activities? Would it have kept him from straying in the wrong direction, or being in the wrong place, with the wrong people, from paying the ultimate price?

I can't say. And I don't for a minute believe that I was so all-important in his life that I alone would have turned the tide. But something would have been different - I do believe that. And maybe that difference, however insignificant at the time, might have had a very significant, positive impact later on.

We'll never know. But I hope that if you are a coach you can make the same commitment as I want to make on behalf of all young ballplayers....

Make every effort to hang on to those kids - keep them in baseball and off the street corners. Give them focus and purpose. Show them that working as a team can be rewarding it its own right. Understand the complexities of the teenage mind. look for the signals of problems away from the field, and be there for them as a solid, dependable rock in their lives. Remember that some kids are troubled, some need guidance, and some just need a place to play.

Be there for them.



[WebBall Note: The other side of this story is the violence itself, of course. And WebBall will continue to do what we have done every year, urge all kids and parents to support Pledge.org in their annual campaign.]