Changes have come to Little League

Brothers playing baseball. Few things are better in a boy's youth.

My pseudo-nephews, Gary, 8, and Nathan, 5, are in the midst of their first simultaneous seasons of Little League baseball in Elwood.

Although I didn't get started playing organized baseball until I was 7, I have the fondest of memories from my days on the diamond. Gary and Nathan surely will remember these days in years to come.

But some things are different in 2004 Little League.

"Look at the hair on that kid," I said as I watched one of Gary's games. "It's so long. Not many ballplayers look like that."

"That's a girl," Gary's father told me. "There are three of them on this team."

Back when I played, the "thems" sometimes cheered us on at St. Joe's Park or ate candy and then talked about the game the next day in school.

I'd never dream of playing catch with someone named Susie or Karen at recess much less on the baseball field.

That would've been yucky as a 7-year old boy.

Instead, I would've thrown the ball at them the way a boy does when he likes a girl.

That got me far with the ladies as I sit single and approaching 30.

For their birthdays, I bought the boys their first real baseball gloves, ones which they should use for quite some time.

My late Uncle Jack bought me my first glove, autographed by former Atlanta Braves All-Star Dale Murphy, and it barely left my side.

Still having the itch to play ball often, I enjoy spending time with Gary and Nathan, throwing the ball around and even giving pointers where they're needed.

I'd like to think of myself as fundamentally knowledgeable when it comes to baseball, even though such knowledge only had me pulling splinters from my behind and keeping the bench lively at Joliet Catholic Academy.

"Make sure you use two hands to catch a pop fly," I stress to the boys.

Just the other day we worked on this.

Gary's gotten really good with the high ones, while Nathan is just getting a hang of the fly balls.

He likes to use two hands, but he gets the non-glove hand in the way sometimes, and the ball bounces off his hand and then falls to the ground.

"Keep this hand out of the way until you catch it," I tell Nathan, a lefty.

But still, the hand got in the way.

"That one hurted, Uncle Scott," Nathan said as he shook his small hand.

"You'll be okay. Try putting your hand behind you. Tuck it in your pants to keep it out of the way."

And that began to work.

Then Gary lent his expertise to his younger brother.

"But make sure you don't have your hand in your pants during the game, Nathan."

Gary's team, the Elwood Reds (7-8 year-olds), just finished an undefeated season, winning the League Championship.

The kid's a rising star, at 8. It looks like Nathan better pay more attention to him than me.

 

Scott Deininger is a standup comedian from Shorewood. More of his work can be found via his Web site, www.ShaveYourHead.com

07/18/04