As published in The County Times (http://countytimes.somd.com) in April 2010
By Ronald N. Guy Jr.
Spring always rejuvenates but, after the winter that was,
this one feels more like a re-birth.
The last couple weekends have been nothing short of psychological and
spiritual bypass surgery for at least one guy who was a snowflake away from
re-enacting parts of Jimmy Buffet’s song Boat Drinks (think extreme cabin
fever). With all due respect to Ponce
de Leon who risked life and limb in search of the Fountain of Youth, after the
brutality of this winter, I needed little more than a couple of weekends with
temperatures in the 70s to feel more youthful.
Despite Mother Nature mercifully turning up the temperatures
early and with authority, for the sports fan, it’s not spring until bats are
cracking, mitts are popping and we’re playing ball. For me, the seasonal switch flipped last weekend. While “on assignment” at a local park, I had
the pleasure and interesting perspective of watching three different local
teams of various age groups shaking off the rust in preparation for the
upcoming season. It was a perfect
evening: warm, sunny, the sights and sounds of baseball all around. As refreshing as it was, it’s a scene (our
national pastime greeting spring) I’ve experienced before and one that occurs
annually in Southern Maryland and nationwide.
On this night though, there was a particularly poignant moment. Gazing across the fields I saw a T-ball
coach getting his kids into defensive positions, a little league coach hitting
fly balls and another pitching batting practice. What’s so special about that you ask? Try everything.
In this beautiful but routine spring timepiece, it occurred
to me – unlike it ever had before – just how extraordinary the work of local
youth league coaches is. For this
specific evening to occur, many elements were required: cooperative weather,
willing parents, exuberant kids and a supportive local government. But the scarce resources in the equation
that made the evening possible were the coaches.
It’s easy to take for granted the orchestration necessary to
coach a team. Whether adult player or
parent, most of us just show up to team events – be it a practice, game or
post-season celebration - and offer little more than a passing thought to the
effort involved in its or a season’s execution. Most parents, especially the athletically inclined, probably have
at least considered stepping up and coaching a team. Ultimately though, after considering the time involved in
coaching kids, managing playing time, hauling equipment and dealing with the
occasional rogue parent reliving their athletic career through their kids, most
of us don’t; choosing instead to defer and assume others will. After all, we really don’t have the time,
right? Yeah, as if those who choose to
coach a team do.
Every season, regardless of the sport, coaches help
introduce our children to or progress their knowledge in a particular sport,
create cherished childhood memories and forge life-long friendships. It is work whose value cannot be understated
but is often unappreciated and overlooked.
Anyone with a relationship with athletics, from the weekend warrior to
the professional athlete, undoubtedly owes a debt of gratitude to a few
individuals that made the conscious decision to give a little of themselves, for
their community and a group of kids, and coach a local team. In fact, reconsidering the sources of my
affection for sports, perhaps I owe more to my little league and soccer coaches
than I ever realized. For that matter,
without them maybe I’m not even writing this column, and what a huge civic loss
that would be (okay, maybe “huge” is a bit of an overstatement).
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