Last week was a full week for me. Being named the head coach of the Meigs baseball program is literally a dream come true. This happens tucked between the start of basketball season and Thanksgiving festivities along with work and all the other day to day activities we’re all involved with so it’s safe to assume there has been a lot on my mind. As I sat at home last Tuesday evening recovering from my COVID vaccine booster and waiting to get word on the decision of the Meigs Local School Board I was doing quite a bit of reflecting. My mind was wondering to the past and to all the people that have impacted my life and my pathway to coaching. It’s a long list and someday I will give credit to as many of them as I possibly can, but on that day I thought a lot about some of those people I’ve lost along the way. And for Pat Martin, there’s one very distinct loss that hits different than others and I’d like to tell you about it. If you don’t mind, please join me for a quick “mound visit”.

I once wrote that some people know of a man named Jeremiah Bentley while others know him for what he is: a good husband, a good son, a good brother, a good uncle, and a good friend. I can’t lend credence of that to those that wouldn’t understand on a website or an article or anything of the nature. It would take me a lot longer than that. But this is what I will say…

We lost Jeremiah, physically, in December of 2012 and for nearly nine years that loss has caused me significant distress. It comes and goes without much notice or reason and can impact me in different ways depending on my disposition in life. One thing that I’ve caught myself doing is watching and waiting for the 21^st of December to roll around and on that day and before and beyond I begin to worship the heartache that comes with not having one of the greatest people and athletes and friends that I’ve ever known around to talk about life with. To share things with. To celebrate with. To hurt with.

I wish he could be here with me. To be our pitching coach. To help mentor our players in how to love, in how to compete, and in how to be a man not only in sports but in the game of life. I’ve wished he could be here almost every day since THAT day. And to borrow from the actor Adam Sandler in his musical tribute to his late friend Chris Farley, “Miah, life ain’t the same without you boy”.

When December 21^st comes around this year I will again fight back the tears and maybe wipe away a few that escaped from my eyes. I don’t want to hurt; I don’t want to worship that heartache, but it’s difficult to promise that I won’t. But I am doing something a little different this time around. This time, on THIS day, I’m worshipping something different. I’m worshipping the gift that God gave me, that he gave everyone who knew him, in the form of Jeremiah Lee Bentley. There is no better way to do that than on November 29^th. The day God gave that blessing 41 years ago.

I want to say something about Jeremiah and it won’t be enough but I’ll say it anyway. He wasn’t just a great athlete. He was a heck of a person. And he was tough. He wasn’t afraid to hurt. I now wonder at times if that lack of fear was more blissful ignorance because he was too busy enjoying life. Too busy to let the pain slow him down. That’s the type of qualities I saw in Jeremiah Bentley. He was one hell of a man. A guy that you were proud to know. A guy that you were proud to have as a teammate. A guy that you are proud to teach your kids to imitate. A guy that you are proud that your son shares a name with.

My two boys, Jake and Jeremiah, are wearing number 22 this season in basketball. It’s the same number Jeremiah Bentley wore on the majority of his athletic uniforms. My boys have worn it on and off over the years and Jeremiah has basically adopted it as his number. They know it’s the number my friend wore, but what they don’t know and can’t really understand is what it means to me not just to see them trot onto a baseball field or basketball court with 22 on their backs, but to see them play with an intensity that closely mimics that of one that wore it before them. One that I am honored to have known. One that I am so grateful to have shared a friendship with.

The “December 21sts” I have come to know may come year after year possibly until my days come to an end. They’ll hurt. I’ll hurt. But with that hurt I’ll always know that no matter how great the pain, it pales in comparison to the joy of the “November 29ths”. And because of that, just like Jeremiah Bentley, I won’t be afraid of the hurt.

To close. I want to tell my friend something.

Miah, we were together for my first varsity baseball game as a player and we were together for my last. I hope you don’t think that I’ve forgotten ya. As I go into this next chapter of life as the head baseball coach for the Meigs baseball program, one would have to be crazy to think I wouldn’t be bringing everything we experienced. Everything we learned. I’m bringing it along. I’m bringing you with me, Miah. We’re going home!

Thanks for the visit! Let’s play ball!

Please pardon the image of our gun wielding, alcohol slurping friend. If you’ve seen the movie “Varsity Blues” you probably already know that Billy Bob wasn’t in the best mental state as he sit on the tailgate of his pickup truck in the scene above, but he still provided a healthy lesson. Those trophies behind him were awards he had gathered throughout his youth football “career”. At one point he asks his quarterback and friend, Mox, if he remembers winning the championship as nine year olds. Mox said “yea, it was fun”, but Billy Bob didn’t agree. “No it wasn’t. I remember gettin’ yelled at.” Then he proceeds to chuck the trophy into the grass and blow it apart with that shotgun.

You know I’ve probably watched this movie at least ten times and for whatever reason this has always been one of its most fascinating scenes. Yet, I’m not sure I’ve ever kept it in mind throughout the many practices and games I have coached in youth sports. As a matter of fact I may have even forgotten all about it until recently I experienced something that made me remember. I want to tell you about this experience so if you don’t mind, please join me for a quick “mound visit”.

Last weekend our family traveled to Gallipolis, Ohio to participate in the “Hoops Project”. It was about 95 degrees and on the pavement basketball courts it felt about 105. Over the course of two days I watched hundreds of kids (and adults) in separate age divisions compete for the right to “Sign the Wall” which is a massive white board that is signed with dry erase markers by tournament winners (and winners of the infamous “potty bowl” game which I think is a great addition to the event).

There were some extremely talented athletes there and there were some very good teams, but one team in particular caught my eye. They were the “Net Rippers” and I noticed them for a few reasons. One, my youngest son played on the team. Two, they had an absolute miserable weekend in terms of statistical success. Three, it’s reason three that I really want to share with you.

It was late on the second day of the event and the “Net Rippers” were already 0-2 for the tournament. They were actually playing for the rights to call themselves the winner of the “Potty Bowl”. At the last minute, the Front Office made a drastic change. They replaced their head coach (who actually did a fantastic job up to this point regardless of the record) with a group of teenagers. Two of the teenagers had younger brothers on the team, one of them was my older son. So we had a group of young friends coaching a group of younger friends. A disaster in the making.

And what a disaster it was. By the end of the first half the “Net Rippers” were down by more than 10. The other team was bigger and faster and it looked like they had played together much longer. The “Net Rippers” were able to score here and there but not nearly enough to really stay in the game. It was hot (as I mentioned) and the kids looked absolutely exhausted with sweat drenching each of their shirts (and maybe a little added water for effect).

But that’s where things get interesting. Ya see, this team didn’t act like they were tired. They didn’t act like they were struggling. They didn’t even act like they were losing. As a matter of fact by the time the last few minutes of the game came around they acted as if they were winning by 20, but they weren’t. They were actually losing by 20. Yet they were laughing, they were hustling, and they were listening. All because their coach(es) were letting them play without criticizing them and without yelling at them. Not to say the older guys weren’t coaching; they were. They just weren’t coaching like it meant more to them than it did to their players. They were coaching as if the reason the game was being played was so that the players could have fun.

As I watched this play out before me. As I watched kids laugh uncontrollably, both the players and the coaches, my mind began to wonder back to all my experiences as a coach and I was almost consumed by this state of awe as I considered that these teenagers might be coaching a better game than I ever have in my life. It was their first time. Their first attempt. And they were better!! They were better because to them it was about having fun.

Somewhere in-between my thoughts I remembered our friends Billy Bob and Mox. I remembered Billy Bob explaining “We were just little kids Mox. Just little kids. It’s like nothin’ was never good enough!” Then a chilling conviction crept into my mind as I envisioned my own boys on that back of that pickup truck.

Fundamentals are so important to success in sports. If you’re not good doing the small things, the basic things, you’re probably not going to be very good at the game you’re playing. I’ve been coaching youth sports (primarily baseball) for over twenty years and I’ve studied and re-studied the fundamentals of fielding and hitting and throwing, but there’s a fundamental I haven’t spent nearly enough time on. That’s the fundamental of fun!

Just over the last several years I have slowly (and painfully) come to the conclusion that one of the greatest gifts we can give our youth athletes is the encouragement for them to have fun. I can hear people asking me “What about high school?”, “What about college?”, “We need to prepare our kids for better competition!” I hear you and I understand you, but I would like to make one simple point that I believe without a shadow of doubt.

If we teach our kids to have fun in sports, if we teach them to love the game that love will correlate to passion and that passion will correlate to work ethic and those things above all are what drives us to be the best we can be in sports and in life.

I’m just asking you to consider it. To think it over. I know I am.

Thanks for the visit! Let’s play ball!

Update: I wanted to link the article referenced in case anyone finds this article first. To see the article my thoughts here are based on please visit: https://cstewart1993.wixsite.com/buildingchampions/single-post/2019/07/10/Lets-Start-Something-New-PDP

I’ve written the opening to this blog several times now and I’ve deleted it, several times plus one. Let me first say that I appreciate the responses to Chris Stewart’s Building Champions “Player Development Program” blog article because it shows me that there are people out there willing to engage in dialog in regards to the advancement of youth sports. That’s a positive, but I also want to take a step back and highlight some key points that “I” believe Coach Stewart is making with his thoughts. So give me a few minutes here and let’s have a quick “mound visit”.

First of all, trust me on this; Coach Stewart is not anti-recreational league and he is not anti-travel ball. As a matter of fact, those two concepts as they relate to each other actually had nothing to do with the article. The article was about how those two things function within their own context. The article was about “player development” and how that is being handled by the people who have an immediate impact on youth sports.

Allow me to clarify that statement. It’s us. The parents. The coaches. The adults. And I’m letting the administrators, officers, officials, etc. of the leagues and programs off the hook because in all actuality they are limited by the tide of public persuasion. Coach Stewart’s idea cannot be successful without buy-in from the parents and coaches of recreational and travel programs, because it is those people that dictate the direction that these entities take. You may have heard people complain a time or two about how their local league or coach approaches a certain concept merely because “that’s the way they’ve always done it”, but the truth behind that complaint is that unless our league officials and coaches are empowered to make changes they have no reason to do so and are almost powerless in a sense to even attempt it. So let’s focus on the heart of the problem (and solution)… that would be us!

And believe me, I’m throwing myself at the mercy of the court here. If you want to find an example of an individual that has extensive experience in doing things the “wrong” way, look no further than the man behind these thoughts. If I have any saving grace at all it would be in the simple fact that I have committed to getting better, granted while failing miserably all along the way.

In the responses I’ve seen to Chris’s post (in a couple different threads) I’ve noticed a common trend. Either people provide reasons they don’t like the idea of this “Player Development” focus and end up (I assume) unknowingly providing points and facts that actually support it or people provide reasons they LOVE the idea and seem to omit one of the most important factors involved with the concept. Fun!

If there are any kids or student athletes, I should say, reading this right now, get ready! I’m about to do something you didn’t expect. I am going to SUPPORT Xbox and PlayStation. WHAT?!?

Let me ask everyone a very simple question. You have two options. Option one: go to bed early the night before, spend the day hunkered down so to not wear yourself out before the game, get dressed up in baseball pants and a tight jersey, travel to the ball field, prepare and compete (in sweat and dirt) in hot temperatures all the while your parents and coaches create a pressure filled environment by shouting instruction at you. Option two: go to bed when you want the night before, wake up when you want the next day, hang out in your shorts with a light blanket to stave off the AC and play MLB The Show 19 with your friends online. Now you tell me… which one sounds more appealing?

The conflict presented in that scenario is a fundamental milestone of a player development program. In layman’s terms: how do we make youth sports as beneficial as possible to… our youth! It’s about skill! It’s about health! It’s about fun!

In talking with a close friend of mine about this very idea he said something that I completely agree with while at the same time am completely disgusted by. To paraphrase he basically said, “this would benefit the kids so much, but the parents would want real games”. I think he’s right and I understand that feeling, because the last time my eight year old played wiffle ball he let an inside pitch go without swinging at it and I told him he should have pulled that thing to left field!! Then I called myself an idiot and shut my mouth! You see, I am part of the problem.

During a previous 10U practice the head coach allowed the team to split up and play against each other. No parents encouraging. No coaches coaching. No umpires umping. And in a half hour I truly believe those kids had more fun just playing with their friends than they did over a handful of “real” games (maybe all of them combined throughout the season). When the practice ended one of the coaches asked in a thought provoking tone “why don’t you have that much fun when you’re playing games?”. I can answer that question, it’s because we ruin it for them. It’s because it’s NOT as fun. It’s because we, as adults, are not prioritizing development; both personal and athletic for our youth. It’s because it’s too much about us and not enough about them.

When Coach Stewart posed the question “who is with me?” he didn’t identify coaches; he wasn’t asking for support from travel ball administrators or recreational league presidents. He asked for parents. For moms and dads to search their thoughts to decide if they can commit to a better way.

Sports. Families. Communities.

If you’re looking for “real”, it’s time to recognize that there are much more important things at stake besides plastic trophies and wooden plaques.

Thanks for the visit! Let’s play ball!