Another Fresh Start

Apparently it's been so long since I blogged last that Blogger (/Google) changed its entire platform. Sweet.

Anyway, I should be definitely in bed. However, I'm thinking about this weekend. Why? Duh. Because it's a tournament weekend. We start off early at 9am and play nearly throughout the day with a (dreaded) two-game break after our second game.

Usually I find that I blog when I have something powerful to say. Not this time, though. I'm just excited to get back on the field tomorrow. It's truly going to be a fresh start for our 12U team. With some great guests, who we hope to bring on, I think we'll make some serious progress.

That's all. Sorry to bore you.

Gold Gloves, All-Star Teams, Halls of Fame and World Series Legends: Goodnight to the "Kid"

It actually breaks my heart to write this post. We all like to imagine our idols dying of old age, of natural causes. But, unfortunately, the worst is bound to affect the best of us sometimes.

Take the death of Whitney Houston this week. It was certainly an untimely death. As was Amy Winehouse's, Jimi Hendrix's, Elliot Smith's, Kurt Cobain's, Jim Morrison's, Ernest Hemingway's, Janis Joplin's, etc., etc. There are plenty of more untimely deaths we can all speak of that relate directly to our own lives. It begs an answer to the question of: What happens when our actions go to our head? (No pun intended regarding Hemingway.)



Gary, The Kid, Carter passed away yesterday from brain cancer. I almost feel like a sort of passion died with him, as well. Before the mess of steroids and HGH controversies, Carter was a fixture in the Major League Baseball's spotlight. Maybe he wasn't always there -- over his 19-year career, it only makes sense that he would fall in and out of the limelight like any other public figure -- but he certainly set a unique standard for catchers around the world. He earned Gold Gloves, a World Series with the Mets and a spot in the Hall of Fame. He earned it. And he was proud of it, as he should have been.

Embraced, despised and admired for his "swag," "swagger," "exuberance," "enthusiasm," or whatever you want to call it, Carter definitely carved his way into my heart...even though I was only a 1-year-old when he earned his MLB World Series ring with the Mets. Many of the readers may not remember Carter. He wasn't incredibly exception in skill or talent, but he was great for other reasons. Obviously, his talent and skills were worthwhile of 19 seasons in the MLB, but his "kid-like passion" for the game is what made Carter different from all the others. Sure, he was more than receptive to the cameras and post-game interviews. But, more importantly, he was more than receptive to finding a place in the MLB to play the game he loved the way he loved it.

In addition to his career in the MLB, Carter kept in touch with his love for the game. He coached and managed in the minor leagues, coached at the university level and was a broadcaster for the Marlins. Regardless of those accomplishments (adding on to his successes as a player), no one will ever forget Gary Carter's spirit and passion for the game.

And while I'll probably end up watching A League of Their Own, For Love of the Game, Field of Dreams, The Sandlot or even branch out to finally see The Natural, I'll leave you now with a few simple words:

Goodnight, Kid. I'll always look to you for inspiration when the game gets tough.

Kids today!

Okay, so we all know that kids today are spoiled-rotten, disrespectful, pain in the you-know-whats. And I can guarantee you that your parents' generation said the same thing about you when you were a kid. It's a vicious cycle. Man begets man; man condemns man; man becomes man; man begets man; man condemns man; man becomes man; and on the cycle goes.

But why is it that kids today are just "SO BAD?" Maybe our generation of man-condemning is too sensitive? I'll let you be the judge. To each his own.

I find there's a fine line between "monkey-see, monkey-do" and "do as I say, not as I do" teaching methods. Not a parent -- but an educator of children, adolescents and young adults -- I find myself observing the way others parent more and more often...especially as I grow older into that "ticking clock" phase of my life. I see some parents with a nice balance of the two methods. They demonstrate good behavior and expect it in return, while there are still some adult things they do that they warn the children not to mimic (or, at least, not until they're "older," "out of my house," or "financially responsible for yourself"). Other parents lead mostly by the strict warnings of "not as I do" and still others lean more towards the "monkey-do" techniques. Who knows what is right, honestly? What works for one kid, does not work for another...many times each sibling is different from the next. I guess the best I can say is that the only "right" way is to pay attention and stand your ground (because you're the adult in the situation) however you need to teach your child a lesson.

This seems like a post that's not at all about softball, but it is...of course. It's mostly inspired by the video below that I think we've all seen and argued about 15 times at this point. Whether or not this father's actions were something you would replicate, he's standing his ground to teach his daughter a lesson the way he sees fit. He didn't put her in danger, other than inadvertently by the bullying she may face at school and in public, and he paid enough attention to his daughter to know when she disrespecting him to a point that required a learning lesson; and he paid enough attention to his daughter to know HOW to teach that lesson. I'm sure the message was loud and clear for her.

A lot of the comments I've seen so far have been, "Glad my dad doesn't own a gun...because he would definitely do something like this." I grew up in surburbia. No one had guns. Anyway. I don't know. I know that my parents would never ever do something like this -- "praise in public, reprimand privately," they always say -- and, to be honest, they never had to. One look of disappointment from either one of them was all the "grounding" or "punishment" I needed. But that was just us. I'm not perfect because of it; and I won't claim to be perfect anyhow. But it worked. I think I came out fine. I think I know how to hold my ground and teach a few lessons. And I think coaching has helped me realize that sometimes disappointment isn't enough and hard lessons need to be taught the hard way. I'm thankful for that. It's experience. Hopefully it'll make me a better parent...if my time doesn't run out first.

It all begins at the end...

After what has been a tremendously "strange" past few weeks, leading to a lot of skepticism on my part (and that of my coaches and girls), I'm excited to say that things are panning out pretty well. I'm now the Vice President of our non-profit organization. I'm now the head coach of an INCREDIBLY talented showcase team; and one of my best friends -- who happens to be my mentor -- is at the helm of it all, as our manager.

To be honest, I went from one side of skepticism to the complete opposite. Just a few weeks ago, I had 6 girls for a local/travel team and was desperately searching for more girls/repeatedly telling myself to be patient and that the girls would come. Needless to say, I wasn't always optimistic about how the 2012 summer season would pan out; you can't field a team of 6 girls, can't even play without 9 on the roster. Then, after to some unexpected changes to the showcase 18U team in our organization, we decided to merge their 8 remaining girls with my 6. So, yes, I went from a local team of 6 to a showcase team of 14. Talk about turning a full 180; making a complete U-turn. And in the "quiet" mean-time of the off-season, when this decision was made, I found a whole new set of negativity to overcome: will I lose my position as Head Coach; will my girls object; will the other team's girls object; what if the the girls don't get along; what if girls leave because we won't play as many showcase tournaments; what if girls leave because we're playing showcases; will this make the organization look weak; will other teams and coaches see this merger as a sign of weakness for our team? Yikes. It's been a whirlwind of negativity surrounding me, but -- with the help of the coaches, girls and my therapist (god bless her) -- I've been able to keep a fairly positive mindset concerning the "big adjustment."

We started practice yesterday. And, whereas it was the ends of two different teams, it was the true beginning of a dynamite team. Thanks, in part, to a sleepover some of the girls (from both teams) had on Saturday night and a very positive team of coaches at practice, everything went as smooth as we could have hoped for. Sure, there were a few speedbumps -- but what practice doesn't have a few speedbumps, anyway?

I guess it also helped a bit that the girls at the sleepover had a bonding experience as they "forked" our manager's lawn, then proceeded to make tee-shirts for themselves and our manager. They formed their own inside joke, and woke me up with a phone call (on speakerphone) the next morning, just giggling away.

Anyway, I can't speak enough about the talent that's on this team now. I can't even begin to explain it. Hence, my biggest fear was whether or not the girls could get along; if they could get over their fear of "differences" and just play. And we haven't really PLAYED yet -- practice is always different from games and tournaments and showcases -- but the girls are off to an amazing start. One that is ten-fold better than that of the previous week at our annual holiday party. So, I'm happy. It's a great new beginning of what will become, despite the ends of what we knew.

And, on a side note, I'm in so much pain from practice yesterday. Please remind me to stretch and warm-up like the rest of the girls before I decide to pitch for batting practice. Dang.