My fond memories of coaching the ‘Bad News Bears’

By John Toth

The Bulletin

I was sitting in the stands, waiting for my grandson’s T-ball game to start.

Around me, parents were cheering and screaming for their kids and team.

 A long time ago, I was one of them, watching or coaching my kids in Little League.

I looked around the T-ball field stands and saw mostly parents half my age or younger.

A grandpa sat on the other end, cheering on his grandson. That was more like my crowd. Then I saw other grandparents and began feeling more like I fit in.

It was nice to be sitting in the stands and enjoying all the happenings around me. I didn’t have to worry about the line-up, collecting candy money, assigning game-mom duties or anything else. I just watched and enjoyed it.

It’s been a few years. All three of my children are grown, but there was a time when I was immersed into youth sports and had a lot of fun doing it.

I learned as I coached. I volunteered when the Little League board declared that if they could not find a coach for the team, they’d return everyone their sign-up fees.

That usually did the trick, and some parents, whose kids were assigned to that team in the draft, came forward - like me.

I was not a seasoned coach. I watched baseball, mostly on TV, but I never played it. I had to read up on some of the rules.

The season started, and we quickly got 10-run-ruled; the game was called. It became obvious that we didn’t have the top picks of the 9-year-old draft. They went to other teams that had coaches.

At the next practice, I brought along refreshments and leveled with the kids. I told them that we’d have a good season, no matter what happened, and our main objective was to have fun. Then I offered them a chance to improve.

“For those of you who can make it, I‘ll be here one hour before regular practice starts. It’s not mandatory, and it won’t be held against you if you can’t make it. But if you can, we’ll work on areas where you need to improve,” I told them.

When I pulled up to the field an hour early for the next practice, the whole team was waiting. While my players didn’t have great baseball skills, they had heart. And, they had parents who would drive them to practice that started late afternoon. I could work with that.

The parents were great. I had plenty of help with baseball knowledge and on the field. We had a great time at practices, working on each player’s weaknesses.

“They should be hitting line drives,” volunteered one parent. “You can’t defend against it at this level unless you hit it right at them. It’s almost always at least a base hit.”

From then on, I became a firm believer in line drives. Parents practiced fielding, and I, along with the parent who made the suggestion, trained everyone to hit line drives. At the end of every practice, we sat in a circle and discussed positively what we have achieved.

We also popped open soda cans and celebrated our new team. I felt like I was coaching the Bad News Bears (without beer service to the coach in the dugout, or the cursing.)

Our initial goal was trying to play a full game without being 10-run-ruled. That was soon achieved. Then our goal was to try to win some games. Those line drives came in handy. I didn’t want the ball popped up. I wanted it to stay close to the ground. It didn’t always turn out that way, but we took what we could get.

By mid-season, we lost enough games that our playoff chances were null. But then we started winning games, and the team drafted without a coach became a formidable opponent that could not be chalked up as an automatic win.

Then we came up against the best team in the league - zero losses.

It was close, but we outscored them. We played our best. The other team’s coaches didn’t seem to take us seriously, and we sneaked in a win. The next day, what we did was the buzz of the Little League field.

That’s the only game that the other team lost all season.

It didn’t change anything, except our kids held their heads up high. They knew that they did something that nobody else had done. It was bragging rights. That win became etched in their minds, along with the lesson that if you work hard, you can achieve anything.

I coached for many more seasons, but that was my favorite one.

Many decades later, I sat in the stands with my smart phone set on video as my grandson went three for three off the tee, including two hits to the outfield. They were line drives.

(John can be reached at john.bulletin@gmail.com)