check it out and see what we can find out.” She looked to
where he was pointing and could see the two dads yelling back and forth
pointing at two young players. One was sitting down holding his knee in pain.
“Your son intentionally slammed
into mine! That’s grounds for suspension. Look at him. His knee could be
sprained, or worse!”
The other boy stood cowering
behind his dad. “My boy was just sliding in like he was taught to do. He’s
safe, and that’s how the game is played. It’s all about winning! Your boy just
didn’t know how to get out of the way. Better teach him not to stick his foot
out like that when someone’s sliding into third.”
The only feelings Whitney could
receive were anger over the event and past jealousies from the families. The
little one on the ground was sure his dad would ground him until his leg
healed. His Dad believed there was no excuse for failure. He practiced with him
every day, and now he would be off his leg for a while.
The other boy was afraid his dad
would see the tears starting to form, and he walked away. He played on the team
to make his parents proud, but he didn’t really like all the pressure. He tried
hard to keep everyone happy, but the kids on his team got mad if he didn’t play
his hardest.
“This is nothing like the
T-ball games we have down in Baseline Elementary.” Nick whispered to Whitney.
“Most of the parents don’t show up, and when they do they are usually amazed
that their kid can even hit the ball.”
Just then two men in referee
suits slipped in between the dads and pulled them aside. One helped the injured
boy off the field with his dad while the other tried to calm everyone down.
Nick and Whitney moved away
from the argument and walked past a group of older boys. They looked like high
school students or even college kids. Nick stopped and introduced himself to a
boy with an earring in his nose.
“Hi, I’m Nick Naylor. You boys
play on one of these teams?”
“No way man. We just come to
watch the little kids get yelled at. Gives us something to do.”
Another boy spoke up, “I feel
sorry for them.”
“Why’s that?” Nick turned to
talk with the young man.
“Their parents push them to
play all the time. They never get to do anything else. If they don’t win, they
get in trouble. Look at their faces, do they look happy?”
Whitney and Nick both turned to
watch the field. They could see the boys were serious about the game, but a few
of them looked like they were enjoying it too.
The boy with the pierced nose
was watching with a look of disgust. “I used to play for one of these teams.
They said I wasn’t good enough. Now I have time to do the things I like to do.
Those little kids have no choice. They may look happy right now, but that’s
part of the act too. Once they’re older they can make their own decisions.
Right now they have to look like they love it or their parents won’t be happy.
Gotta keep mom and pop happy, you know.
“So what sport did you
play…um…I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it.” Nick just
gave him his stern glare and the boy smiled nervously.
The smallest boy in the group
reached out to shake Nick’s hand. “I’m Jeremy. Jeremy Nash. They almost talked
my little brother into joining, but I talked him out of it. I hate to see kids
I know get sucked up into all this bullshit.”
Whitney’s look of surprise made
the boy smile.
“Hey, I’m eighteen. I can say
that kind of stuff. This is Joe and the one with the nose ring is Aaron. We
just stop by every now and then to see what new kids got talked into signing
up.”
“What happens when you see a
new kid?”
“If we know him, we try to talk
him out of it. We even talk to the parents if they’re interested. If we don’t
know them, then we just sit and watch the fun. It’s kind of funny watching the
parents get all upset ‘cause their little kids can’t hit the ball. They all
think their kids are
where he was pointing and could see the two dads yelling back and forth
pointing at two young players. One was sitting down holding his knee in pain.
“Your son intentionally slammed
into mine! That’s grounds for suspension. Look at him. His knee could be
sprained, or worse!”
The other boy stood cowering
behind his dad. “My boy was just sliding in like he was taught to do. He’s
safe, and that’s how the game is played. It’s all about winning! Your boy just
didn’t know how to get out of the way. Better teach him not to stick his foot
out like that when someone’s sliding into third.”
The only feelings Whitney could
receive were anger over the event and past jealousies from the families. The
little one on the ground was sure his dad would ground him until his leg
healed. His Dad believed there was no excuse for failure. He practiced with him
every day, and now he would be off his leg for a while.
The other boy was afraid his dad
would see the tears starting to form, and he walked away. He played on the team
to make his parents proud, but he didn’t really like all the pressure. He tried
hard to keep everyone happy, but the kids on his team got mad if he didn’t play
his hardest.
“This is nothing like the
T-ball games we have down in Baseline Elementary.” Nick whispered to Whitney.
“Most of the parents don’t show up, and when they do they are usually amazed
that their kid can even hit the ball.”
Just then two men in referee
suits slipped in between the dads and pulled them aside. One helped the injured
boy off the field with his dad while the other tried to calm everyone down.
Nick and Whitney moved away
from the argument and walked past a group of older boys. They looked like high
school students or even college kids. Nick stopped and introduced himself to a
boy with an earring in his nose.
“Hi, I’m Nick Naylor. You boys
play on one of these teams?”
“No way man. We just come to
watch the little kids get yelled at. Gives us something to do.”
Another boy spoke up, “I feel
sorry for them.”
“Why’s that?” Nick turned to
talk with the young man.
“Their parents push them to
play all the time. They never get to do anything else. If they don’t win, they
get in trouble. Look at their faces, do they look happy?”
Whitney and Nick both turned to
watch the field. They could see the boys were serious about the game, but a few
of them looked like they were enjoying it too.
The boy with the pierced nose
was watching with a look of disgust. “I used to play for one of these teams.
They said I wasn’t good enough. Now I have time to do the things I like to do.
Those little kids have no choice. They may look happy right now, but that’s
part of the act too. Once they’re older they can make their own decisions.
Right now they have to look like they love it or their parents won’t be happy.
Gotta keep mom and pop happy, you know.
“So what sport did you
play…um…I didn’t catch your name.”
“I didn’t give it.” Nick just
gave him his stern glare and the boy smiled nervously.
The smallest boy in the group
reached out to shake Nick’s hand. “I’m Jeremy. Jeremy Nash. They almost talked
my little brother into joining, but I talked him out of it. I hate to see kids
I know get sucked up into all this bullshit.”
Whitney’s look of surprise made
the boy smile.
“Hey, I’m eighteen. I can say
that kind of stuff. This is Joe and the one with the nose ring is Aaron. We
just stop by every now and then to see what new kids got talked into signing
up.”
“What happens when you see a
new kid?”
“If we know him, we try to talk
him out of it. We even talk to the parents if they’re interested. If we don’t
know them, then we just sit and watch the fun. It’s kind of funny watching the
parents get all upset ‘cause their little kids can’t hit the ball. They all
think their kids are
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