Noodle Arms

At the end of every summer America’s attention turns to a small central Pennsylvania town. Williamsport goes from being blue collar working man’s town, to a sea of youth. The Little League World Series has exploded since ESPN started to put the tournament games on national TV. And the kids (12 and 13 year olds) get to soak up life as a rock star for a few weeks before they head back to school. Everyone seems to love the Little League World series, everybody, it seems, except me.

There are number of minor reasons, and one major reason why I cannot stand the LLWS. Some minor issues I have:1) the fences are like 215 feet the whole way around the outfield, and with some 13 year olds today approaching six feet in height, pop outs turn into home runs. 2) The replays. I have always been, and always will be vigorously against replay in baseball. At the LLWS coaches get 2 replays per game! Obviously I want the umpire, at any level, to get the call right, but the best part about baseball is that no umpire is the same. 3) ESPN. I remember when you used to get the US Final and then the World Series Championship game. Now we get regional games before these teams even make it to Williamsport. It’s getting watered down. It’s fun to see maybe one or two little league games on TV. It’s boring to watch 35 of them.

My number one gripe about the LLWS isn’t necessarily something the LLWS does wrong. Nor is it anything ESPN does wrong. The onus of my major gripe lies strictly with the parents and coaches, and sometimes parents who are coaches. And, the problem is that these coaches, and parents, really have no clue what they are doing to their kids. And it is all because they want to be on TV wining the LLWS.

Recent studies have shown that youth injuries related to pitching have been on a steady incline, and as Dr. David Geier indicates, there are number of factors.  The notion of specializing in one sport at a young age may seem logical to some parents, but the fact is that the youth body is developing up usually until the child reaches the age of 18, and just learning to do one thing means that a kids’ body is missing out on developing in other areas. Also, specializing in only one area means added stress to the same part of the body. Take pitching for instance. The kid who plays summer baseball and pitches, and then plays fall football, and basketball in the winter, then baseball again is stressing a multitude of different parts of his body over the course of the year. The other example is the kid that plays baseball in spring and summer, and takes pitching lessons in the fall and winter. Now this kid may be getting a lot better than everyone else at pitching, but he’s also stressing his arm for the whole year.

Maybe the most disgusting part of the LLWS, to me, is the fact that these kids (and let’s be honest they are still kids) are throwing curveballs! Throwing a curveball should be the last pitch a kid ever learns, and it shouldn’t happen until the kids is at least 16, probably later. Yet, I sit and watch these 13 year olds throw curveball after curveball after curveball trying to get hitters out. And the sad part is, the coach is calling for it from the dugout. A 13 year-olds arm is far from developed, and the tendons in his/her elbow are still very fragile. So it boggles my mind that parents would let their kids go out and snap off breaking balls and jeopardize their long-term career for a shot at a 12/13 year-old championship!

Even more appalling are then numbers Dr. Geier provides about the misconceptions of Tommy John Surgery amongst players, coaches, andparents. Only 31% of coaches, 28% of players, and 25% of parents believe that pitch type plays a factor in the increase in chance of torn ligaments in the elbow. Today there is a growing notion amid parents and players that if they get hurt they can have surgery and come back better than before, not realizing the severity of this type of injury. The recovery period for a Tommy John injury is 12-18 months. While nearly a third of parents, coaches, and players felt like 9 months was enough time to come back from a Tommy John surgery. Big deal, coach, you won the Little League World Series, too bad your players wont be able to throw by the time they get to high school. Looking at the list of names, there have only been about 40 LLWS players that went on to actually make it into the big leagues, and majority of those that did, were position players.

The LLWS does have pitch count limits, and rules enforcing days off for pitchers, but if it really wanted to look out for our future players it would have rules outlawing curveballs.

Say Hey

I had heard stories about him growing up playing summer ball. They were horror stories. Running his players until they all puked, screaming and yelling all the time, running his practices like military exercises, etc...So you can imagine my hesitation to play for this guys’ team when they called and wanted me to play with them the summer after my junior year of high school.

I met Coach Ike for the first time in person at our first practice after the high school season ended in the summer of 2003. I introduced myself and shook his hand, and he looked at me and said, “Is that how you shake somebody’s hand? You better do it again and make sure it is firm this time.” Oh boy, here we go, I thought, and it is only day 1! This is going to be a long summer…

I decided to switch this post up a little bit and talk about something a little different, after getting a tweet from my sister about wanting to read something about motivating players as a coach. So Kel, here you go!

From an outsider Coach Ike probably seemed like a nut, crazy, maybe even an asshole. At least, those were most of the stories I heard before I had ever met the guy. Turns out, he was the best coach I’ve ever had, and I was never a better ball player than when I played for him; I would have never gotten a scholarship to a Division 1 school to play, and I probably would not be the man I am had I decided not to play for him. Truth is, I’ve never had more fun playing baseball than the two summers I played for Coach Ike.

His practices were intense, insane, (insert adjective for crazy here). They would teeter on the edge of 6 hours sometimes. You had to thank him for water breaks. If you didn’t thank him you owed him 25 pushups. Most of those hours upon hours we spent at practice we didn’t even have gloves on our hands. We were mostly just talking the game. (True story: he split us into four groups and put us at each base, no gloves, and we had to throw the ball around the diamond 100 consecutive times without dropping it, with no gloves, and we did it). The most fun I ever had, however, was the practice that it rained. Diving practice was something I looked forward to each year, no matter what you had to dive, and if you didn’t lay out you ran a lap around the warning track.

Games were even more intense. It was the 1^st inning of the first game I ever played for him. The third batter for the opposing team hit a line drive scorcher through the hole between short and third (I was playing shortstop). Coach Ike came out of the dugout and screamed, “Bobby, did you lay out for that ball?” I shook my head, I mean hello, it was obvious I didn’t, it was a sure base hit. He took me out of the game right there in the middle of the inning, ugh, and this was only game one, what a long summer this will be. When I got to the dugout he called me over, and I thought here it comes, better get the ear plugs ready. But he calmly looked at me and said, “Dude, you can’t make that play if you don’t try. It’s all about making plays.” From that day on I laid out for balls no matter what.

He was unorthodox, not every player could play for a coach like him, and maybe he was a little nuts. But he knew baseball, and he loved to teach it. When asked why he was so great, I often say he could motivate a camel to find water in the middle of the Sahara Desert. He got the absolute, 100%, very best out of each of his players, and he did because his players understood he wouldn’t accept anything less. His mantra was “Confidence is everything.” At the first practice he asked who here thinks they can hit? And the stupid 17 and 18 year olds that we were, we all raised our hands, and he said we were all liars. “If you can stand on one leg, pee down the other, smoke a cigarette, and still hit a curveball, then you can hit.” He broke the swing down in a way I had never learned before; he had pictures upon pictures upon pictures of major league swings, and how they all had the same basic fundamentals. After our first hitting practice I got home and my toe was bleeding, and we didn’t even hit live pitching!

But maybe my ultimate favorite thing he did was how he gauged how focused we were as a team. He had a rule, whenever he said “Say Hey,” we, as a team, had to respond with “Say Hey.” Didn’t matter if we were at practice, in the middle of a game, talking after a game you had to do it, and if you didn’t it was a quick 25 push-ups. His reasoning for doing it was he could tell how focused we were by how close to unison we sounded. The first couple weeks we probably sounded like an echo, but when we got the hang of it, there was nothing more intimidating that hearing the entire team respond as one.

He was a military man, and his rules were militaryesque! All our bat bags had to be in numerical order. He hated the word “yea” it was only “yes” around him, and if he was ticked off it was “yes sir.” After every game you shook the coach’s hands, and thanked them. He demanded respect, and gave it to those who showed it.

His number one rule, however, was the Larry Bird rule. Coach Ike’s basement is a library. He’s probably got a thousand books, and he’s probably read them all twice! The Larry Bird rule was something he read in Bird’s book, it was the law of 80%, and Coach Ike preached it on the field. The law of 80% was simple; you do things on the field at 80% effort to gain 100% accuracy. A throw coming from the outfield trying to get a runner advancing has to be placed perfect to gain the best chance of getting the out. Coach Ike said the outfielders need to throw the ball at 80% effort so that the ball is in the right spot for the fielder making the tag. 100% effort meant a decrease in accuracy, and in a game of inches, 100% accuracy is key. But the law of 80% applied to everyone on the field, and it taught me to keep myself calm in key situations in the game.

He coached baseball the way it was supposed to be played. He’d yell at you if you were trotting too slowly after a home run, and rarely ever gave signs. We just went out and played, but if the pitcher caught a pop up on the infield, oh boy. True story, we had a pitcher who made a catch on a pop up that was right next to the mound, and Coach Ike took the pitcher, and entire infield out of the game and played others at those positions. The pitcher should never catch a pop up!

It was truly his way or the highway. And not every player could play for Coach Ike. But 5 years down the road you come to realize that as much as we thought it was about baseball then, he was really teaching us about life. He was teaching us to be men. Accountability, responsibility, and honesty were keys that he preached. I never had more fun that the summer after graduating high school and coming together with that team to win 26 consecutive games, four tournaments in four different states, but that’s also the summer I grew up. I won’t ever forget my teammates from that summer, or the fact that winning 26 straight games actually had Coach Ike speechless at our post game talks. And even though we didn’t hear it that often that summer I’ll never forget Coach Ike’s wisest words, “If you can take a loss, and turn it into a lesson, we all walk away winners.”

How to Send a Message

 

Over the last week in baseball there have been some pretty angry pitchers. Two pitchers, and a manager received game suspensions and/or fines, and it seems after Tuesday night that there are possibly two more pitchers and maybe another manager who might be taking a few days off work and opening up their wallets as well. And it’s all because of a little chin music.

Back in the 40’s, 50’s, and 60’s when baseball was real chin music was a part of the game. It was a way for a pitcher, a team, to send a message to the opposing team. There was no harm intended, just buzzing a 90+ mph fastball around eye-level so the hitter didn’t feel quite as comfortable in the box. The message could signal a number of different quandaries that a team had with a different situation in the game. “Hey, that slide into second with spikes up was bush league.” Or, it could be to retaliate after one their own players was hit at the plate earlier.

The difference between today and back then is that back then the players knew it was coming. They played the game the right way to avoid situations. Today, players take offense to getting hit (no matter where they get hit). Back then, getting hit was a free base; a way to get on and start a rally for your team. Back then, players walked around with bumps and bruises after taking pitches to get on base. Today, all that is walking around with bumps and bruises are players’ egos.

I am going to highlight three situations that recently happened and detail why I agree with what the pitcher did or disagree.

Jared Weaver (Angels) vs. Detroit Tigers – July 31

Weaver is the ace of the Angels staff, and leads the league in ERA. It was a great game which also featured Justin Verlander flirting with a no-hitter (again) into the eighth inning. But that was overshadowed by Weaver.

There had been jawing between the two sides all game, and in the bottom of the 7^th Carlos Guillen hit a “no-doubter” homerun. But what piqued Weaver in the wrong way was Guillen standing and admiring his home run, then looking at Weaver and appeared to blow him a kiss. The home plate umpire immediately warned each bench as he’d felt things had gotten to the boiling point. Surely the on deck batter Alex Avila had to know what was coming. And surely Weaver had to know what would happen if he threw at him. Weaver sailed a fastball past Avila’s head, and was immediately tossed from the game. And for a good five minutes there was some good banter between both dugouts.

Weaver was suspended six games and the Angels Manager was suspended one. Seems like there still might be bad blood between these two teams, could be intriguing if they meet up in the playoffs.

Carlos Carrasco (Indians) vs. Kansas City Royals – July 29

Carrasco is a young kid, with a great arm. But he seems to lose focus to easily which leads to giving up big innings. In the fourth inning of the game on Friday between the Indians and Royals, Carrasco gave up a grand slam that made the game 12-0 and immediately fired a fastball up near Billy Butler’s head. Carrasco was taken out of the game and the Indians lost 12-0 to the Royals that night. Soon thereafter Carrasco was fined and suspended six games for his actions.

The fact that this happened after giving up 12 runs shows how easily this kid loses his cool.

St. Louis Cardinals vs. Milwaukee Brewers – August 2

In the midst of a tight playoff race, when pressure mounts, it is expected that emotions will flare and tempers will reach their pinnacle. What happened in the seventh inning of this game was how all of these “messages” should be sent. After Cardinals slugger Albert Pujols had been hit in the hand, the Cardinals retaliated by throwing once in tight on the Brewers’ Ryan Braun, and then plunking him in the back on the second pitch.

The Cardinals defended their superstar by hitting one of the Brewers’ stars, and they retaliated by hitting him square in the back. Loud enough to send a message, but not too loud to injure anyone severely.

There is a difference between being stupid and sending a message. Stupid is trying to bean somebody in the dome. Sending a message is hitting them right between the shoulder blades. And if you don’t believe me consider this fact: The “message” Weaver and Carrasco were trying to send, never made it to its target, but the message the Cardinals sent to the Brewers hit Braun square in the back. If you want to send chin music there is nothing wrong with getting high and tight up around the shoulders, but if you want to make sure you message is heard loud and clear there is no better place than the center of the back.