LITTLE LEAGUE ROOKIES
“She’s a woman and we don’t have women coaches in this league!” the league president, Don, shouted, red faced. The right to coach Little League baseball is still being jealously guarded by men.
“I’ll only manage a team if I get to pick my coach and I pick her!” shouted George.
“We need a fourth team for the miners. We had three teams for the first half of the season and it didn’t work well,” said Don.
All of the coaches and managers agreed. A vote is taken and George’s terms are accepted.
“Bobby is a good player and I want him too!” George adds.
“O.K. you can have him. His birthday is on the cutoff date, and he is too old to pitch.” Don concedes.
“Bobby is eligible to pitch,” Insisted Coach Bonnie. Little League headquarter is called. Bobbie’s eligibility is established. He is allowed to pitch.
Bob and John’s Service Station sponsors the team and provide uniforms. We have a coach, a manager and a group of twelve boys. We are now a team. Let’s play ball!
Our team is made up of boys pasted over at the beginning of the season and boys culled from the three existing team. The coaches have chosen who they will give us from their team. You can be
Bonnie Phillips
AWQ2865
sure that we aren’t given any all stars! The boys are eight or nine years old, with the exception of twelve year old Bobby.
Encouragement and praise replaces criticism and we are off to a good start.
At our first practice, while running the bases, Larry runs to first base and then to pitcher’s mound. “This is going to be a challenge!” thinks Coach Bonnie.
It’s game time. The Umpire shouts, “Play ball” and the second half of the season is under way.
This is our first game and all eyes are on me. I am thinking of the men coaches and the need to prove them wrong about women coaches. The smell of hot dogs simmering and popcorn popping floats across the diamond, but I’m too anxious to think of food.
The ball field is fenced and has two dugouts, a grassy outfield and fresh chalk on the infield. It is surrounded by open fields and grazing cattle. The smell of freshly cut grass floats in the air and mingles with the odor of manure. This doesn’t slow down business in the snack bar.
Behind the snack bar a group of older boys are encouraging the younger ones to touch the electric fence that surround the pasture, with the long blades of grass. The electricity travels up the wet grass and delivers a small shock to the surprise of the little boys.
The team is all here except Pete. He rides to practice with a neighbor and rides his bike to games but can’t find the ball field on his own
“Coach, I forgot one shoe,” says Jimmy.
“Coach, coach I’m wearing my cup,” said Jamie, throwing one leg into the air and rapping his knuckles on the front of his pants.
Richard removes his partial plate, containing one front tooth, and hands it to me. “Mother is afraid I may break it if I play with in my mouth,” he says.
“You look sad. Are you OK?” I ask Robert.
“My glove is black and all the other kids have brown gloves,” he replies with a tear in his eye. “Black glovers are neat,” I said, trying to console him. He brightens up and goes to sit in the dugout.
Umpire shouts, “Play ball.
Billy, who has the smallest strike zone on the team, is at bat. “Ball four, take your base,” shouts the umpire.
The next batter is Willie. He suffers from dyslexia. He gets a hit and runs to third base. Scooping up the ground ball, the fielder sees the batter going to third and is confused. He hesitates, and over throws first base; the ball goes into deep right field. The runner on first base advances to second base, but stops when he sees third base is occupied by the batter. The ball is thrown to first base and the umpire shouts, “Batter’s out.”
The opposing coach scratches his head and says, “That’s either the dumbest or the smartest way to advance a runner I ever saw.”
The volunteer umpire’s knee guard has slipped and is now on the side of his leg. “Look, they twisted his leg to get him to take this lousy job,” calls a voice from the bleachers.
The sun is blazing hot. Pressure is on the pitcher and sweat is running down his face. Joey hits a single and goes to first base. Jack, the fastest runner on our team, is at bat. He hits a long fly into center field and over takes Joey, and is pushing him around the bases, both score.
Two more runs and two more outs and our team is in the field. Larry, the youngest boy on the team, goes to the port-a-potty
They have a runner on third and first. our catcher lifts his mask, setting up a play. The ball is pitched; the first base runner takes off for second base. The short stop moves in close to the pitcher, the catcher throws to the short stop, the runner on third thinks the play is at second base and starts home, the short stop returns the ball to the catcher and the runner from third is tag out at home.
The opposing coach says, “What just happened? How did they do that?”
Joey is pitching. He looks uncomfortable and the wet spot in the front of his pants is getting larger and larger! His mother dashes home for a dry pair of pants.
The inning ends and our team goes to the dugout. Larry returns from the port-a- potty and fails to notice his team is now in the dugout. He tries to joins the other team in the field and is called back.
The mercy rule is called, because we are ten runs ahead, and the game ends. We have won our first game! The men coaches are surer than ever that they don’t want a woman in their league.
