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Part 1
For the love of Pete...it’s
only a game
By Jeff Mayfield
[SEPT.
14, 2000]
Now
that the fall sports season is upon us here in Lincoln and Logan
County, I thought it might be good to review why sports programs
even exist to begin with. I should point out that I am not an expert
in this field. I am not a sports psychologist, although I’d love
to play one on television. I have no credentials. I am not endorsed
or sanctioned by the ISHA, the NCAA (thank God, talk about the kiss
of death...) or the NBA. I have never received expressed written
consent for any accounts or depictions of any games by Major League
Baseball. However, I do think I have as much experience in this one
little area of life and more than most of my 40-plus-year-old
counterparts. I have noticed a disturbing national trend when it
comes to scholastic sports competition. Before we begin covering
this year’s plethora of games in our region, the LDN will try to
remind athletes, coaches, parents and fans the reasons that we
participate. I hope that from this point on, Lincoln will be known
as the town that bucked the trend...that in our area, kids learned
the fundamentals, developed character and skills like teamwork, and
also that they had a lot of fun along the way.
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Why
do sports exist?
(1)
To have FUN.
If
sports are not fun, you shouldn’t play them. If anyone is forcing
you to participate in a sport, you should report him or her
immediately. No sport is an absolutely mandatory activity. I think
everyone should try sports; you might like ’em...you might not!
Some people and sports are not natural friends. You still might have
fun participating. Many people have posted memos or letters to the
editor that it can’t be very fun having a losing season...or
several losing seasons. I disagree. In fact, I point to the 1964
George and Ann’s Pirates, the 1969 Sunnyvale Spiders and the
1973-74 Mount Vernon Mountaineers. I was a star bench-rider for all
three of these teams.
My
Pirate teammates and I not only did not win a single game, we never
even came close. If you remember The Bad News Bears
"before" team...that was us. As a baseball purist, I could
tell you that we were pathetic. Our pitching staff was a joke. We
had no one that could throw strikes. We led the league in walks,
hits, home runs, hit batsmen and players who cried for their mommies
every week. As a stellar second baseman (I hit an eye-popping .250
in that, my first, year of organized ball) I remember looking out
into right field one particular game. Our outfielder was not paying
any attention to the game (and we were only down about 21-3 at the
time). He had caught a big black snake and he was trying to get it
to bite him. I wondered if major leaguers did stuff like that when
they were bored.
You
would think that losing some 20 games in a row would have a
devastating effect on such a group of serious ball players. But our
coach (who will remain nameless for awhile) knew something that I
wish coaches in the new millennium could know. No matter how sad or
sorry our performance...no matter how much crying he had to put up
with...no matter how much abuse he took from the parents...he held
the key to our hearts.
After
every game, lose or annihilation, he quickly gathered us together
and took us to the ice cream stand. I couldn’t wait for that
moment every game. In fact, while I was eating my ice cream there
were times when I would enter a state of consciousness where I wasn’t
even sure if we had won or lost. I would have run through a wall for
that man.
One
Saturday after we had just completed a six-game losing streak our
coach took us to a professional baseball game in San Diego. As we
entered the ballpark I saw a ball whiz past me and the rest of my
teammates. I sprinted through the seats until I made eye contact
with the ball. I had to knock over a couple of old ladies and push
some little kids out of my way, but after the dust cleared and most
of the bloody stumps were retracted I had come up with my first
baseball (I think I have about 11 of them in my collection). As a
wily 8-year-old, it was the proudest moment of my life...until I
decided to keep the ball away from my teammates by sticking it in my
jacket with the zippered pocket. When the coach asked me to produce
the ball, the zipper was stuck, and I never got the ball out ’til
my Mom (don’t you just love moms) rescued me when I got home! So
even though I helped lead my team to a perfect season, we STILL had
a lot of fun.
(To top of second
column in this section)
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Another
example of my theory is the ’69 Sunnyvale Spiders football team. I
was the starting quarterback on the newest team in the Bay area.
They were lucky to get me, as there were several gangs negotiating
for my services. I decided that the football team is exactly what I
needed...that, I would be just the guy to lead them to the San Jose
PAL title. If you remember how Stallone looked at the end of
Rocky...that’s how I looked after every game. I led that team to
an amazing 0-11 record, and I was instrumental in every one of those
losses. As bad as we were, we got to see a lot of cool stuff in the
San Francisco area. And since a lot of teams had been around for a
while with their old uniforms...we had brand new ones very similar
to the ones worn by the Oakland Raiders. I wore No. 11 (back in
those days every one wanted to wear No. 12) because I didn’t want
anyone to confuse me with any No. 12s! My stats were terrible. Our
offense was bad and our defense was worse. But we had more fun that
year than I probably did my junior year in high school when we
advanced to the Missouri State championship game!
Lastly,
I submit as evidence C, the ’73-’74 Mount Vernon Mountaineer
basketball team. I had bided my time throughout my high school
career waiting for my turn to play point guard for Mount Vernon.
Earlier in my career I had dominated the competition on the JV
level, just hoping that our varsity coach would see me and give me a
chance. He never did until he had to, when graduation depleted our
squad. I was one of five seniors left...and he simply started the
seniors. We had a spectacularly mediocre season that did include an
upset of the No. 4 ranked team in the state, the Lebanon Yellow
Jackets. Halfway through the season, I went into a slump. It got so
bad that I couldn’t hit water if I fell out of a boat! After I had
waited my whole high school career for my big chance, my coach
benched me and told me that my season was over after the 16th
game. It was hard sitting there for the final eight. But my
teammates rallied around me and tried to help forget about my
problems. I still had some fun even though it was a bitter pill to
swallow.
I
haven’t even told you about the dozens of times that I played on
teams that achieved a measure of success. I pointed out these
disastrous seasons to prove my point...that you can have fun in any
situation. It’s all about the attitude that you bring to practice
and to the games every day. I am NOT talking about goofing around
and not getting your work done. In fact, I love the way that Railer
coach Neil Alexander handles this aspect with his hoopsters. He
drives them to perfection. He demands proper execution on both
offense and defense. He does not dole out compliments very often.
But as an assistant coach working as a team with our players, we
would all occasionally get it just right...and the look on his face
was worth a million bucks.
I
like what former Kentucky coach Rick Pitino said to Wildcat player
Richie Farmer. Richie wanted to quit because he said basketball was
no longer fun. Coach Pitino said that hoops is not supposed to be
fun; that’s why they call it work. The fun comes when you run out
in front of 24,000 people. He went on to suggest that he should quit
along with Farmer. Farmer said, "Coach you can’t quit,"
to which Pitino responded, "Neither can you." Together,
they made it to within one point of making it to the Final Four in
the NCAA National Championships and had a lot of fun doing it, I
might add!
(Note:
This article will be continued with postings Friday and
Saturday.)
[Jeff
Mayfield]
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