RE-TAKING THE PLEDGE

Tony Altobelli

o7 I trust in God;

I love my country and respect its laws;

I will play fair and strive to win;

But win or lose, I will always do my best.

f7

And with that, the 2000 youth baseball and softball “Opening Day”

ceremonies have come and gone.

Despite some unfriendly weather all the different leagues, with the

exception of the Newport Beach Little League (their opening day was

pushed back to March 11), battled through the dark and chilly Saturday

afternoon, putting a plethora of fun, prizes and mayhem right at the

kiddies’ fingertips.

Carnival rides, barbecues, aerial artists, parades, handshakes from

mayors, smoke-free rides on fire trucks and handcuff-less tours of police

cars, guest appearances from former big league ball players, more sports

memorabilia than Cooperstown, more junk food than Willy Wonka’s deepest

fantasy and, oh yeah, baseball and softball.

I hate to think what would happen if a team from around here wins the

Little League World Series some day. The occasion would make the Toshiba

Classic look like a company pee-wee golf trip.

Times have changed from the old Harbor Area Baseball days of T-shirts,

Toughskins and tennis shoes for uniforms, no curveballs allowed

(something that should continue) and the closest thing to a carnival was

the Orange County Fair.

Not that I’m jealous or anything.

One thing that has remained true throughout the years is the word, “fun.”

This past weekend was the purest form of fun in youth baseball. I mean,

jeez, how could you NOT have fun with all that stuff going on?

After the bells and whistles stop and the game itself is the only thing

going on, for some, the fun stops.

I’m not talking about the youngsters. I used to walk around for hours

with a Kermit the Frog on my arm and that would entertain me all day.

Needless to say, youngsters can have fun with anything.

It’s you parents, I’m most concerned with. The game becomes a

life-or-death struggle for some. I watch you when I cover the games and I

must say, it’s more entertaining than Kermit was.

There’s a fine line, however, when entertainment turns to uncomfortable,

for both the fans and the youngsters playing.

So for that, I re-introduce you to the Adult Little League Pledge, which

should be said before each and every game played.

For those that took the pledge last year, you must do it again, due to

some additional changes to the 2000 user-friendly version.

Please raise your right hand and repeat after me.

o7 I love my family unconditionally;

I will WATCH my son/daughter play to the best of his/her abilities

without my blood pressure zooming off the charts;

I will NOT give them batting tips while he/she is hitting;

I will NOT give them pitching tips while he/she is in the wind-up;

I respect the coach and understand that he is doing his best;

I will allow him to instruct my child to the best of HIS abilities and

will not be a “sideline” coach in any manner;

I also understand that the umpires are human as well and are doing their

best;

I will save all derogatory comments like “stupid,” “idiot,” and others

for the freeway when that guy cuts me off, again.

I will NOT embarrass my child by acting more immature than they are;

f7 If my child looks over at me, I will smile at them and even give them

some gesture of o7 encouragement. Instruction by way of gestures through

a chain-link fence loses a lot in the translation.

After the game, I will point out the POSITIVES that went on in the game,

even if they’re hard to find. “Hey, that uniform looks GOOD on you,” is a

good stand-by during those 12-0 losses;

And win or lose, I will hug my child and family afterward as we head

toward the PIZZA joint. f7 (Kids, you owe me for that one.)

Feel better? I know I do. Now for the coaches. Right hand up, please.

o7 I love my family unconditionally;

I understand that my players are doing the best job that any 8 to 13-year

old can;

I will keep my cool at all times because I know that children are like

sponges;

I love my son, but I will NOT treat him and differently than the rest of

the team;

I will teach the players what the words, “hustle,” “listen,” and

“teamwork’ means;

I will repeat into my head at least once per inning, “This is Little

League, not Game 7 of the World Series,” just to keep my perspective;

Like the parents, I will NOT instruct hitting during an at-bat, nor will

I fix the pitcher during the wind-up;

I will NOT say silly things like, “why did you miss the cut-off man,” or

“why did you throw the ball to that base,” or “why didn’t you take up

league bowling”;

f7 I will ignore the rantings from certain parents and go with what MY

belief and MY experience o7 tells me to do;

I will have fun even if it kills me;

I understand that I must lead by example at all times for ALL situations.

That sponge theory again takes effect;

I will repeat last pledge if I feel the need to say something brilliant

to the umpire;

Win or lose, I will high-five EVERY player on my team afterward and point

out the positives of each player’s game;

If there is a flaw with the player, I will COACH them on how to improve

and not just say, “Keep your eye on the ball” over and over again;

And finally, I will smile once in a while because smiling is contagious.

f7

I guess the umpires need a pledge too, huh? OK, here we go. No, raise

your other right hand, sir. Atta boy.

o7 I will make the right call EVERY SINGLE TIME.

f7 That should about cover it.

What, a pledge for the writers, too? I guess that’s fair.

o7 I promise to spell the players’ names right ... I just hope they show

up correctly on the correspondence.

f7 I feel cleansed. PLAY BALL!