Children can play on their own if given a chance

The scene was only a beta test of a theory that I’ve had for years,

but it proved me right, even if only on a small scale.

On our Little League team’s practice field at Adams Elementary

School last Thursday, we played a modified version of a game called

“work ups.”

Friends Dave and Kathy Miller first told me about “work ups” a few

weeks ago, and I tried it right away. The kids loved the game and

have asked me several times to play it again.

I was a few minutes late to the last practice, but happy to see

that coach Mike Markovsky had already gotten things underway. Mike

pitched to the kids, and I dropped fly balls in left field.

After about an hour of kids playing kids, it was time for a

change. Mike and I were joined by Riley Schoneman’s dad, Jeff, to

make up a three-man team. We played a good crew consisting of Riley,

Justin Butler, Joshua Bowman, Courtney Ulrich, Andrew Tenno, Jeremy

Pearlman, Mike’s son Michael and my son Roy.

In the second inning, it was time for the kids to have someone new

pitch. Four kids stood on the mound discussing who should throw to

the dads. All four wanted to pitch, but they could not make a

decision. After about 30 seconds, they looked at me to make the call.

“It’s your team. You decide,” I said.

The call came again. “Coach, who should pitch?” Courtney asked.

“It’s your team, you decide,” I repeated.

In a matter of moments, they had a pitcher.

I’ve been concerned for a very long time that we are

over-regulating our kids at play. That little scene out there at

Adams told me that if I had the opportunity to test my theory on a

larger scale, kids would do just fine without adults in many

situations of play.

One place I’d like to test it is on the baseball diamond. Having

just finished my season commitment as an umpire for the Minor B

division in the Costa Mesa National Little League, I can safely state

that while we claim that we’re just out there to play and have fun,

the grown-ups often make that impossible.

Left on their own, kids will call their own balls and strikes and

“safes” and “outs.” Will there be disputes? You bet, but there are

disputes now -- just watch any Little League game. The difference is

that the most childish behavior on the diamond is exhibited by

adults.

The umpiring was difficult for me because I never got used to

seeing the worst come out of grown men and women in front of little

kids. In one game, a parent was sitting behind the backstop, riding

me on too many pitches. I let it go, partly because I can handle it

and partly because I know this jerk and confronting him would only

have been taking his bait.

Adults cannot be left completely out of the picture. Safety is

very important, and kids don’t have the benefit of our experience in

dangerous situations to know what to do to avoid injury. At Adams

last Thursday, for example, some kids were standing behind the batter

without equipment and had to be asked to stand behind the backstop.

Growing up in L.A. 30 or so years ago, there seemed to be a lot

more options for play than there are now. My friends and I had the

gym at Fairfax High School to play in on Saturdays. Just try and find

an open, unsupervised gym on a Saturday now. And when we organized a

football game, it was either a two-on-two battle in the street in

front of my house or, for larger games, a trip over to the football

field at Fairfax.

This was the big city, and the elementary and junior high schools

did not have grass, just asphalt. And even though that increased the

number of scraped knees and elbows -- more safety issues -- we wore

them as badges of honor. Those little injuries never stopped us from

finishing the game or playing in the next one a few days later.

By the way, except for the Saturday basketball sessions, the gates

at the schools were locked and we had to climb the chain-link fences

to get in.

Today in Newport-Mesa, you can still climb a fence to get on to a

field, but you will risk being asked to show your permit to use it.

If I’m ever asked for a permit, I know what I’d like to say, but

won’t:

“Permit? We don’t need no stinking permit!”

* STEVE SMITH is a Costa Mesa resident and freelance writer.

Readers may leave a message for him on the Daily Pilot hotline at

(949) 642-6086.