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Sometimes life offers you a choice that you never knew you had, even though it was always there for you to choose. It sometimes takes a push, little or big, for you to explore a road not taken. Once you have taken your first step you find that there is a world beyond the one that you assume is the only one that you are doomed to live in.
This happened to us this year when my daughter was in the process of signing up for her junior year of little league softball at the league we had been playing at for the last 4 seasons. During the sign up process one final insult was hurled at my wife and daughter. It was made by an individual who was a major contributing factor in making the previous season a complete and utter nightmare. After leaving the try-outs they both decided to find that elusive “other path.”
This was not a big surprise to me after watching for years how badly managed and poorly run this league was. Seeing people treated badly by those who ran it for no other reason than wanting the league to be run by the rules that they had established but they did not adhere to. There were more politics involved than there is in Washington D.C. and more vicious rumors and lies spread than in The Enquirer, Star, and The Globe combined.
The path had been taken by others before us who saw the same nonsense we saw. and like us, could no longer tolerate it. Where it led us was to the city of Sierra Madre where the ASA, Amateur Softball Association, was played. Unlike Little League it does not require that you live in their city to play there and the rules are more closely related to those that you will be playing in high school and college.
We first became aware of its existence during the fall when our old league did not offer a winter ball program. Winter ball is an instructional league designed to hone the player’s ability in preparation for their next year’s season. From the moment of our signing up, there was an entirely different feel in the attitudes of everyone involved. Both by the people who were running it and those who were participating in their program. It was a far more relaxed atmosphere all the way around.
But this was during winter ball, there are no scores kept, no standings or all stars, and there were no losers, only winners. It didn’t make any difference what team you were on or who your manager was, everybody helped all the players regardless. This was something I was used to from the regular season and the winter ball season at the Little League where my son plays, but I had never seen it at the old softball Little League.
I’m sure the reason why our old league didn’t do it was because it would require a degree of civility that they would be unaccustomed to. The majority of the managers and parents couldn’t be civil or refrain from bad mouthing one another during the course of a game no less an entire season. Not all Little Leagues are created equal.
So that fateful February day, when my wife and daughter stood before the most notoriously nasty of all the participants in this circus disguised as a softball program and she flung her final insult, the decision was made to make a move. It was not because we wanted to, it was because we felt we had to if we were going to have anything even remotely resembling a good season. So poof…we were gone.
From the first moment, beginning with the tryouts, we sensed something was different. It was as though we went from the minors to the big leagues. In watching the tryouts we noticed the level of play was much higher than what we were used to seeing. Sure, there were a few weak links, but there will always be some. There are in professional baseball as well, not everyone is Derek Jeter. But compared with what we were used to, it was very different.
Once the season began our first impressions were not misguided or overzealous, there was something different about this place. It was true Dorothy, we weren’t in Kansas anymore, we were definitely in OZ. Or perhaps I had died and gone to Softball Heaven. In either case I was happier during this softball season than I have ever been.
It wasn’t that the managers and the players were all perfect but the entire vibe of the place was, for lack of a better term, more congenial. If there were politics involved, which I’m sure there was, it was keep to a minimum and behind closed doors, not discussed between the fields while games are going on.
The people in the stands, even though they didn’t know you, were friendly. Not once did I ever hear somebody say a disparaging word about a player or another parent. Whenever somebody talked about a player on the field it was to offer a suggestion to help improve their play, not to call for their immediate removal from the game that I had heard so many times in Kansas.
When we left, there were many others who left Kansas as well. Not because of anything that was said to us or by us. It was because the pictures that I have painted are true and were witnessed by others. So, before you discount my accolades to a single parent’s dissatisfaction with a group of incompetents, you need to ask why would so many others chose to leave at the same time as well?
I know that for many families, the extra five miles can be a motivating factor in not making the switch to a league outside your immediate area no matter how superior the league is. I can understand that. To be honest, it was something that gave me pause at the beginning. After weighing the pluses and the minuses it was a no brainier and the few extra minutes that it took to get there were more than worth it.
So, if at the start of the next season you are fed up and ready to make a change, or if you just want to test the waters through winter ball in a beautiful field set in the foothills with one of the best views I have ever seen at a ball field, save this number 626-355-3899. Or, if you want to know more about the Sierra Madre Girls’ Softball Association program go to their web site at
www.smgsa.org
If you love softball as much as I do you wont be disappointed. The Shrub Speaks: I'm the master of low expectations. Aboard Air Force One, Jun. 4, 2003.
BD’s response – He said it, not me.
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