So, I got roped into helping out with the local bambinos baseball league last year. My neighbor, Tom, was coaching his kid’s team and was short on help. He knows I used to play a bit back in the day, so he asked if I could lend a hand on Saturdays.
First Steps: Showing Up
I figured, why not? Seemed easy enough. Show up, help the kids learn the basics, maybe run a few drills. I remembered my own Little League days fondly. So, the first Saturday morning, I grabbed my old glove, put on a cap, and headed down to the park. Found Tom already there, looking a bit stressed, surrounded by about twelve tiny humans buzzing around like hyperactive bees.
Trying to Teach
Okay, “teaching” might be too strong a word. We tried, honestly. We gathered them up, or tried to.
- Tried showing them how to throw. Half the balls went backwards. One kid just held onto it, staring into space.
- Tried explaining base running. Most just ran straight past first base into the outfield. A couple started arguing over who got to stand on the base.
- Batting practice? More like bat-avoidance practice for me and Tom. Swings were wild. The tee took more hits than the ball.
We spent more time chasing runaway kids and tying shoes than actually playing ball. One little guy decided the catcher’s mask was a space helmet and refused to take it off. Another started picking dandelions near second base mid-play.
The Reality Check
It was… something else. Not exactly the organized sport I remembered. It felt more like babysitting with extra steps and potential projectile hazards. After the first couple of weeks, I started to get the hang of the chaos, though. Lowered my expectations. A lot.
My main jobs became:
- Keeping kids roughly near the right field.
- Making sure no one ate the bases.
- Handing out juice boxes like a battlefield medic.
- Occasionally reminding them a game was happening.
Looking Back
We made it through the season. Didn’t win much, obviously. I don’t even think we successfully completed a double play, or even a single intentional one. But the kids? They mostly had fun, in their own chaotic way. They liked the snacks, they liked running around, they liked wearing the oversized jerseys.
Did I teach them much about baseball? Probably not. But spending those Saturday mornings out there, seeing them just be kids, it wasn’t the worst way to spend my time. It was exhausting, sure. Sometimes frustrating. But kinda funny too, looking back. You just gotta roll with it, you know? That’s the main thing I learned from that whole bambinos baseball thing.
