Classic Post: Little League World Series

In ode to the Little Leaguers playing today (I think), I delved into the archives to pull out this poorly written gem about the competition more than one year ago on my old blog page, The Franchise. It's weird to read old scribbles, and know how far you came since those times. Enjoy...

They call it "The Little League World Series of Baseball", but I call it trying to get me to cry. Teams of ten year old boys from all over the world, and just as many teams from the United States play in Williamsport, Pennsylvania for the right to be crowned the world's best little league team...

(Insert Facepalm here)

I'm glad people are taking an interest in kids, promoting fitness, teamwork, sportsmanship, and the love of the game. However, I get more than a little upset about the annual questions coming out of this nationally televised event.

1) Why is there an American team in the final EVERY year? The LLWS has two "leagues" or conferences: American and International. While the best teams in the world face off against other young talents to see who is the best in their pool, all the American teams play in their league to see which the best/luckiest to play in the final.

2) How old is that kid anyway? There is always one tall, stubble-bearded, fantastic player from the darkest jungles of the world that takes the baseball world by storm. However, controversy surrounds that kid wherever he/she goes (See thirteen year old Danny Almonte in action)

3) What's with the flagwaving? When the USA is in the final, you can guarantee biased reporting from broadcasters, "USA!" chanting up to high heaven, and the heavy burden of patriotism and national pride befallen on kids with more on their plate than the RAF during "the Blitz" combined.

4) World War 2 anyone? Nothing says "fate of the world at stake" quite like Americans playing and winning against a team from Japan.

5) Are you crying?! Two cameramen are responsible for locating, isolating, and zooming in on kids from the losing team crying their eyes out on the field after a big loss. Tsk tsk tsk, shame on you. Check out this replay from the 2005 LLWS between Ewa Beach, HI and Curacao if you don't believe me. Tom Hanks is losing his mind about what he is watching out there!

6) What do you mean there is no ice here? Count on two other things about this competition.

1. Canada is in the competition
2. Canada will find a way to lose the competition

According to the logic of the LLWS, I'm playing eight Canadian teams in the next Winter Olympic Games, because hockey is OUR game: Ontario, Quebec, Atlantic Provinces, British Columbia, Alberta, Central Provinces, Territories, and First Nations. Come on, we do it in curling!

I have many beefs, but this beef above all gets to me: Video Replay in the LLWS. Never mind the call, but do we need this in Little League? As if the fate of the world hangs in the balance when Little Leaguers, who can't even drive cars, get together for a game of baseball? Perish the thought of a child crying his eyes out at the end of a game because of a blown call; who knows, maybe he will never play baseball again? We can't have that! Give them instant replay! We must get things right for the kids, and while we are at it let's get rid of defeat and losing, because those things are wrong. Yes, let's make every game a tie game so that everyone wins, except for the winner.

It sounds like I'm harping on kids, but the fault is with us. We put too many high expectations on our kids, and when they fall short they crash and burn; in the case of LLWS, however, we get it on film. If the LLWS is a gimmick, then we don't need eight American teams, flagwaving exercises, intense close-ups of Mom and Dad in the stands when their boy goes to bat, and video replay for calls that matter less to a ten year old than bubble gum and bike rides in the park. However, if it is not a gimmick, and we NEED this REAL baseball to prove something, then it's time to turn off the cameras, sit down with our kids, and find out who we are and what is important in life. Otherwise, the LLWS is really for those who didn't make it, and now living out our hopes and dreams in those we raised to serve our purpose.

What would I do about the LLWS? Two things for starters really: Shut off the camera and let the kids play.

Tie Game? "Let's Tear This Place Apart!" - Chief Wiggum

One of the local television stations likes to showcase toddlers playing T-ball at a backyard baseball diamond every Tuesday night on the 6:00 and 11:00 news. The camera records the four and five year old kids running the wrong way on the bases, underthrowing or overthrowing the first baseman, and if they are being "cute little darlings" wearing oversized Blue Jays hats then the camera will also show kids picking their noses in the outfield, or pulling daisies as the game-winning hit scoots past them for the game tying and winning scores. While most people enjoy watching that five-minute segment, debate rages over the pre-determined outcome of every game to save kids from crying, not being invited to team birthday parties, or not having anyone from the team attend his/her birthday party.

Games destined to be ties or drawn, and "everyone gets a trophy" day are two of the major ideas bandied about in the backyard leagues of many, baseball in particular, to make every child a winner (except for the winner). To be fair, no matter what happens in a contest, the object of the game at that age is to have fun. Every child should have fun, in the pure sense of the word. This mode of thinking trickled its way into backyard or house league sports for tykes as well. However, do children in these organized tie games learn anything about leadership, sportsmanship, respect, and hustle? If do, will they see those kinds of results on the scoreboard? After all, that is why there are different teams, teammates, and rules of the game, practices, coaches, assistant coaches, umpires, etc. Of course, no one likes to lose, and in a perfect world no one should lose on the playing fields, or in life. However, if the idea of "no one will be sad, because everyone will be the winner" would be reversed to say "nothing will make a difference, because no one wins", how do these tie games look now?

How would it look to the general public, during a Tuesday T-Ball game, if a five-year old standing in the outfield stood up and said "I'm going to pick daisies, instead of go after that groundball because, whether I do it or not, the game will end in a tie." At what age would it be appropriate to teach "hustle" and "playing to the whistle" because it would make a difference? Would we know who Tampa Bay Rays third baseman Sean Rodriguez is, if those lessons came a year or three too late?



When did the ideas of hustle, heart, and 'love of the game' take a backseat to grassroots, er, diamond socialism? It is possible to have fun while learning something along the way; could this be a link to childhood obesity? There is no way of knowing for sure, but do not be surprised if a link is present. Nevertheless, when hustle happens the difference makers stand out, even if only one person notices, and it trickles through everyone who bears witness to it.

Now, the third baseman inside would say, "Run to third base, get the force out, and get out of Dodge." Tigers third baseman Brandon Inge did have the first step, with the lead runner's head turned the wrong way, Inge could get the force at third, or even make the long throw to first base to get the batter Elliot Johnson, and end the inning. On the play in question, Rodriguez did beat the tag, if not TIE with the second baseman for the Detroit Tigers #LOL

However, there is no way to beat "Hustle and Heart"; they will win every time.

Yes, I Play!

What do you mean I don't play baseball? Check out these mad skills!

 Special appearances made by #19 Judah

 Scratch reliever for a day :)

Homerun No. 6 :D I hit the ball really far...REALLY! It rolled over a hill!

Victory pose!

Major League Player: The Journey to a Championship (PART 2)

The knee pads I wore for the rest of the year proved I could no longer be the person I claimed to be on the field, but just a goofy looking, frustrated athlete...wearing Pirates gear. The next week, all I could hear was "You're out of control", "You're trying to be the hero", "You don't trust your teammates", and as time passed it became "You don't trust anyone" and "You want to make all this about you". The experience was humbling, and that next week's practice the goofy frustrated athlete, who wore the uncomfortable knee pads, told his teammates: "I'm twenty-nine, I have bad knees, and I can't play like the nineteen year old I think I am. I need you to help me, so I'm going to teach you what I know." The words were simple; most of the team was high-school age with some rookies, yet they were in much better shape than I was at that age, and much thinner, too! Losing my speed meant listening to the team captains, echoing their gameplan on the field, getting teammates up when things weren't going right, and trusting in them and their abilities instead of going for glory and that elusive seventh homerun of the season. Whatever the cost now meant not starting for the first time all season, losing my spot in left field and playing first base, moving down in the lineup, and letting the captains coach and direct first and being an assistant to that. It wasn't always easy to do, and pride is something I still have an abundance, but I would like to think things worked out alright.

Is that what the Christian life should be about? Admitting your age, your shortcomings, and your need for help? Last year, I didn't do that, and if I could I would bring back that team from 2010 and apologize for not being that person. Like in baseball, being a Christian is not about accomplishment and the diving catch and being the "Silver Slugger", it is about doing those things that don't show up in the stats column: Leadership, humility, respect, heart, sportsmanship, and knowing ultimate victory comes from acknowledging all that Jesus Christ already achieved and following His wonderful example. With Him to strengthen us, we can do all things.

While trying to learn those lessons, the city tournament was upon us. "Major League Players" and six other teams battling it out under sunny skies for the title of the league's best. Since my injury, we improved to 8-4 an earned a bye to the semi-final round after a stellar team effort in those EPIC morning games. There were freak moments during those games, which were both challenging and humbling, but too numerous to regale in this post (I do plan on telling them at a later date). Late in the semi-final, I was spent; exhausted from the day's worth of games, I could not continue nor keep a positive outlook in that critical moment of the game. I do remember praying, "Just give me one more chance, just enough [energy] for one more play". I named my outfield glove "Hayley WILLIAMS" because it is multicoloured and could sing; I looked at her, and whispered "One more chance, and then you can rest".

It was the second-to-last inning, and the goofy left-fielder in the Pirates hat spotted the tying run on first base, and the potential game changer at the plate: He was the best player for the opposing team all season, and played actual baseball for fun o_O All game, no one hit to left field if it was in the air, only on the ground, so when he hit the quick falling line drive towards the foul line I was surprised. It was a smart hit, a good hit, and the angle was accurate and precise. I admit, as I ran with the strange sensation of having two good knees, I liked watching it fly. There was no awkward tightness of knee pads constricting my movement, no sound coming from the infield or from the cars on the adjacent roadway or anywhere else, and no sun and clouds or sky to speak of. I get teary-eyed when I think of that run-up because moments like that happen to someone else; yet for some wacky reason only God understands, He gave me 'one more chance'. Everything from the past year flashed at that moment, so when my arm reached across my body towards the ball and my body slid along the moist green grass the pains of 2010 and 2011 melted away. The ball fell right into the Hayley's net, and after closing the glove I could immediately hear my teammates on our bench going crazy! No sooner had I emerged with the ball then it was gone again; I immediately made a blind throw right to my teammate and shortstop Dan without knowing where he was! While the runner on first tagged up, the chance to threaten and take the lead from us was gone. We would never fall behind again for the rest of the day. "Hayley" might catch another flyball, and those grass stains from that diving catch might come out of those baseball pants, but I will never forget that moment.

Once in the final, it was time to let the captains' strategy do its work: Trust each other, and make every play. In those pre-game moments, I tried to chat with each of my teammates and thank them for their help in making the season possible. They worked so hard to end the year as champions, and it was only fitting they earned the victory working together; as per custom, I served as a role player and let my teammates frustrate our opponents in the final game of the day.

Fittingly, the moment of victory came as a shock to all of us. We believed we were losing into the final inning, but after playing good defense we heard the scorekeeper announce to everyone present "That's Game"; as the home team, we would not require a bottom half of the final inning as we won, 6-5. I remember screaming, running into the infield, and joining a dog pile of players in the infield. Then there were hugs, handshakes, celebratory photos, more handshakes, more hugs, and rain. The events of that night passed almost like a blur, but I do remember thinking about that team from 2010; this was their celebration, even though they were not there to share it with me. Wait a second...is it over?

Many of my friends in the league asked me that question, and the answer is "No". Just because the "Major League Players" won in 2011 doesn't mean the work is over, the journey toward the ultimate victory just began. All the great work in 2010, for example, continues even now; as our keynote speaker told us during the banquet the following Sunday, what God laid on our hearts should lead us into further action, commitment, and training. Whether in first place or last place, every believer should know true victory in Jesus is real, authentic, and must be shared with whoever we come into contact with. According to Matthew 28, Jesus said upon His ascension, "Go and make disciples of all nations, baptizing them in the name of the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit". Confounding to understand, the journey to a championship should be an ongoing victory; that is what I learned from being a "Major League Player"

What a ride this will be; "Whatever The Cost".

Major League Player: The Journey to a Championship (PART 1)

I apologize for not posting for so long, and while I hate making excuses last week was really hectic for me. The weekend league I participate in held its annual city championship on Saturday, so I was in practice, eating healthy, and thinking baseball all week o_O I suppose things worked out in the end because our team won! ^_^ Everyone played their best, and while I can regale you with stories of our ups and downs I would be writing clear until next Monday o_O Anyway, I'll try to keep it short.

Last year, about this time, I was captain of a very good team playing in the same city championship. We practiced hard all week, and my co-captain and I did everything we could to prepare the team for what lay ahead. While we were short in numbers, I felt we would do well. Up until that point, I never won a tournament of that magnitude before, but I prayed and believed we were due. That Saturday morning, we played three games: We lost the first two by more than thirty combined runs, and the offensive and defensive strategies I crafted for the previous two weeks fell apart in my hands. Before the third game, my friend Kurtis, who drove out west to vacation with his then girlfriend and now wife Jen, spotted me alone on a park bench with head bowed, clothes drenched in rain water, and sobbing profusely. He told me weeks later how he was about to come over, and then he silently backed away before I noticed his surprise arrival at the ballpark. In the third game, we played better but lost the game, 5-4. I felt numb as I shook the hands of the players on the other team, held back tears as I tried to thank the few teammates who came out and played against both the elements and insurmountable odds, and after offering congratulations to others on a great season I drove home in the rain at about one in the afternoon, went to my room, and stayed there for six hours.

After playing that way, falling apart and then melting down, I didn't want to play baseball anymore, not because I didn't win that championship but because I couldn't win anything. I was starting a new job, helping out in church, volunteering time in the league committee, organizing team outings and devotions with my co-captain every week, and running practices at any available field I could find from week to week. I wasn't the best leader, and as I sat alone in my room I determined I wasn't the "best" Christian either. After the sixth hour, my parents, whose love I cherish to this day, lovingly kicked the door into my room and said I had a responsibility to be with my team at the post-game party that evening. They were counting on me to be there, and to be an example of a humbled leader. So, I got dressed and went to the party: There were good times, from one person's failed attempts at Wii Bowling (One-pin Minho) to a marathon game of Dutch Blitz. I still felt bad, but I did not want to show it or take it out on anyone there. The league banquet held the following night gave us a chance to thank everyone for their efforts in making the season the success that it was, however I reserved a pledge to finish the work of 2010 the next year, no matter the cost.

The theme was PIRATES gear about three months after the end of the 2010 season. Not because I wanted to steal what I thought was mine the next year, but because the Pittsburgh Pirates were among the worst teams in baseball that year, and shop.mlb.com sold authentic gear at reduced prices. Whatever the cost, I thought. Even if it meant spending at least one thousand dollars on jerseys alone, hitting every baseball shop within the Greater Toronto Area for extra large baseball socks in each of the four major colours, buying and working in three different types of baseball gloves and labelling each of them after famous girls from Youtube, playing in a beer league during the spring dressed up as a pro ball player and not coming close to playing like one, blogging about my experiences playing in a beer league, switching diet plans to lose weight and get into shape only to get sick in the process, and giving up Facebook to focus on my new job and prepping for the upcoming summer season: Whatever the cost, I thought. Therefore, when it came time to join the newly formed "Major League Players" team for the 2011 season, I was in the best condition of my life, and after the first at-bat everyone would know the work from 2010 would be complete this year!

By midseason, I was lying on the pavement behind a school after tripping, falling, and potentially damaging my knee trying to run down a flyball. The clutch hitting "star" of the team, who made weekly diving catches in left field and hit more homeruns that year than in his previous years combined, lay in a tangled mess. Yes, we were a winning team at that point, but everything I worked for was unravelling in what I thought would be serious ligament damage. The team was staring at a 4-3 record, and the next few days were really touch and go as I tried to regain that "magic touch", but it was futile. Whatever the cost? What could I do?

I Am One For JoeyBats19

A friend posted something about Ozzie Guillen, the manager of the Chicago White Sox. The search began for new video about the outspoken Guillen on the Major League Baseball website.

There is a discouraging article about my Toronto Blue Jays involved in a sign stealing ring, according to ESPN Magazine. There is no concrete proof, or why anyone would want to help a team currently in fourth-place in baseball's toughest division and why it would help their cause, but this says something about ESPN and their suspicion of any professional baseball team outside of their dominion, or at least the United States. Also consider the hosts of the daily syndicated television debate program on ESPN, Pardon The Interruption, who avoid or cast a Spockian eyebrow on the accomplishments of Blue Jays star and MVP-candidate Jose Bautista. Since the Steroid Scandal broke, the peculiar and staggering accomplishments of the Jays' right fielder and third baseman brought about suspicion and reluctant praise. Fans of baseball, however, know better as Bautista became the third highest vote getter in MLB All Star Game history this year with over seven million votes. As one Jays fan said about Jose Bautista, upon being asked why he liked him, he said "he (Bautista) is clean."



I didn't find anything new about Ozzie Guillen; he did comment on the sign stealing controversy, but from what he answered he was unclear about the situation. Blue Jays GM Alex Anthopoulous flat out denies the accusations.

Milestones: The Next Challenge

I reported earlier I completed my MLB hat collection, however I learned I am missing a few special baseball caps.

1. The Florida Marlins are moving into a new ballpark in downtown Miami next season. When the 2012 season begins, they will become the Miami Marlins. No doubt this means the "F" logo on their hats will no longer be in service; all the same, I relented and decided to buy one anyway.
2. I'm not going to buy Philadelphia Phillies hats! No, I am not going to revisit the first twenty-five years of my life, and the namecalling and teasing brought about because my name slips off the tongue!
3. Cooperstown Hats: If I'm going to buy a Florida Marlins hat, then what would be the problem with buying New York Giants or St. Louis Browns hats? They are stylish caps that harken to a bygone era of daytime baseball, two dollar seats, grainy radio broadcasts, wool jerseys, and high knee socks. Plus, that 1953 Browns hat goes with my Old Navy khakis ^_^

By the way, I should get my other knee checked out. Since that accident, it is always sore and making snapping noises at random times o_O I hope it isn't serious. I can still walk around and stuff, but I should take care of it before I do something DANGEROUS.

Milestones (Xavier, you probably shouldn't read this!)

Tomorrow, I will complete my collection of Major League Baseball authentic baseball caps. With five hats outstanding, I located the remaining caps on the online store, shop.mlb.com, and will purchase them on Thursday. While this is a momentous occasion, I do feel saddened that a wonderful journey is coming to an end.

When I bought the first of many hats, which is my Kansas City Royals authentic regular cap, I never thought I would require at least fifty hats. Some of which look the same, save for the logo on the front of the cap. I would keep the handful of hats out of the sun and keep them inside an unused shoebox. However, as the collection grew, the size of the shoebox became an issue until the hats were too big for the box. Today, if you line up all my hats, they line up on top of all eighty-eight keys of the family piano we keep in the living room, another five hats would put a few hats over the side, and onto the floor!

I collect collections: Books, clothes, track jackets, video game consoles, board games and card games, baseball cards, baseball trading cards for card games, football cards for stupid football trading card games, hockey cards, Dot Hack TCG, X-Men The Movie TCG, and even Marvel Overpower (before the Intellect ability messed everything up). Each collection reminds me of everything from the places I bought those things from and the people, but they also remind me of the person who bought those things. I changed a lot since I last drove to Toronto to find a hidden, upstairs card shop to find baseball cards, while Momzo and Dad spent the next twelve hours driving to New York City. I remember the Pit Card Game no one in our church touched for years until I read the rules, taught the other kids how to play, and raised such a raucous during a Congregational Meeting that the card game disappeared next week (or burned). More impressively, the day I found the elusive Barry Bonds foil card for MLB Showdown 2003, and ran around the house screaming that "I was the Wiz, and no one would ever beat me". Those were good times, but alas...

Most of my hats come from one place in Mississauga's biggest shopping center: Square One Mall. One store, in particular, is responsible for at least 65% of the hats I have now, but once I buy those five I will not need to go shopping for hats anymore. Sure, when I started collecting seriously last year my hats were mostly size 7 5/8, but as time progressed and fashion sense enlightened 7 3/4 became a more suitable choice (air conditioning feature a bonus). I still have 5/8 hats in my collection, and I will need to replace them with 3/4 hats soon; as for collecting, that part of my life will conclude, and I will have to say goodbye to guys such as Steve, Xavier, and Justin who helped make the collection possible.

Wait a minute, according to MLB.com, when the Florida Marlins move into their new stadium they will become the Miami Marlins.

Tomorrow we BUY!