Spiders Elite

Three years ago, I sat on a ledge with a fellow Little League All-Star coach, chatting about the usual meaningless stuff. It was our second year in Little League, and our first experiencing an All-Star tournament.

That coach told me that he and his 10-year-old son were leaving Little League. They were starting their own tournament team, and we were invited.

I didn’t give it much thought at the time. Talk of going from costs of $150 per year with Little League to a couple grand seemed like insanity. Not to mention the disappointment that this coach and player were abandoning something big we felt we were creating.

Fast forward to today, and things have changed. Things have changed a lot. Not only do we now have two years of tournament ball under our belts, but we are now starting our own team.

How did this happen?

When I Was a Kid…

Any talk of tournament ball had always seemed crazy to me. I grew up in a small town in Wisconsin. Wherever I went, I got the competition I needed, and I was always good enough to keep playing. Even as we moved around from town to town, those baseball experiences formed my childhood.

Little League. Pee Wee Reese. Sandy Koufax. Babe Ruth. High school ball. American Legion ball.

It didn’t feel like rec ball to me. Our high school and American Legion teams had won or participated in several state tournaments during and around the time I played. This seemed like competitive ball.

I grew up a baseball addict. When I was seven, the Brewers went to the World Series. I fell in love with that team, and to this day I’m still a Brewers fan — even though we live in Colorado. I even managed to raise my sons that way (how did I convince them to do that??).

I’ve always loved the game, but I’ll admit that it eventually became too much. That final year became less fun with each new season. First high school ball during my senior season. Then American Legion. Then fall ball for my college team. Then spring.

It didn’t help that our spring team was terrible. Not that I was particularly good either. Suddenly baseball felt like a year-around job, but with little payoff.

I burned out, and that was without tournament ball. I regret giving up the game I loved, and I didn’t want that to happen to my kids.

My Kids: The Early Years

For the longest time, we felt no need for “more.” Here in Parker, our oldest son Michael played rec ball and I coached him there through his eighth birthday. But by then, it felt that he had outgrown it. We both wanted more.

But around here, we didn’t have Little League. The options — at least as far as we could tell — were either rec ball or Hawks. To us at the time, Hawks was a ridiculously and unnecessarily expensive alternative. But many of our kids’ friends played Hawks.

So when Michael was nine, we made the decision to register him for Little League. Of course, there wasn’t a Little League in our town, so we’d travel to nearby Aurora.

That first year, we were too late for assessments, so Michael played in the minors for the Orioles. As always, I coached.

It seemed fine. It seemed like enough. But we also didn’t know any better.

The following year, Michael played his first year of 9/10 majors for that Little League. I again coached. And when he was selected for the All-Star team, I helped coach that team for the first of what would be four consecutive years.

We had a great group of kids on that team. Plenty of talent. But we couldn’t get past the district tournament.

Why? Well, we lost to more polished teams. These teams just happened to also play tournament ball.

The First Year of Tournament Ball: Initial Reluctance

A year after that first All-Star experience, that same group of kids again lost in districts. In fact, all of our teams at every level lost. And it was the same story every time: We lost to teams that also played tournament baseball.

One of the dads had taken it upon himself to start more than just a tournament team. He was going to start a league.

I initially thought it was crazy. The costs were too much. I didn’t want my kids to burn out. And I didn’t want to be one of those teams with matching bags, helmets and underwear.

But this was going to be different. We would all remain in Little League, but the purpose of this tournament team — available only to those who also played Little League — was to make us competitive in districts.

My wife and I talked it through, and we reluctantly agreed to join. Michael would play for the 12s, and I’d coach the 10s — my middle son Ryan would play up as a nine-year-old.

We Loved Tournament Ball

We may have taken a while to come around. But when we made it, we were in this life for good.

My boys loved tournament ball. I loved coaching it. We loved watching the games. And it was clear just how much better they got because of it.

The results were immediate. It was now obvious when we played our Little League games which kids played tournament ball and which didn’t. It got to the point where it was unfair.

Rewind to Michael’s first year of All-Stars, and you’ll recall that we couldn’t get past those tournament teams. Well, things sure changed in that first year of tournament ball.

Our 10s team not only won district, but we won state for the first time ever for that age group. Similar success was seen at every single level.

These kids — so rough around the edges when we started — got that much better because of tournament ball. There is no secret whatsoever to our success.

Looking back, there were several things that held us back from playing tournament ball sooner. And they are likely the same things keeping others back in similar situations…

Yes, It’s More Expensive

How much this stuff costs will depend on the team. Things like uniforms, number of tournaments, training facility, insurance and amount of travel all contribute.

If you play for a team that just stays locally, you can often expect to pay between $1,000 and $1,500. But that’s really bare minimum here.

Others easily spend $2,000, and often much more. But fundraisers and sponsors can also help keep the costs down.

Bottom line is that you should make sure that what you want to spend aligns with what your team wants to do.

Yes, It’s a Time Commitment

Make no mistake, I have very few free evenings from March through July. And weekend vacations just don’t happen anymore.

Again, the time commitment will depend on the team, but you should certainly expect that you’ll be extremely busy. Practices, tournaments and team bonding events all add up. And if you have multiple kids playing at the same time, I hope you like baseball!

Since many of these teams run on volunteers, also plan to help. Whether you’re the head coach, assistant coach, scorekeeper or team parent, the parents make the team successful.

Yes, You Can Play Other Sports

I know one of the concerns about tournament baseball is that kids become too specialized and no longer play other sports. But this doesn’t need to be the case.

Michael still runs cross country and track after playing basketball for several years as well. Ryan still plays basketball after finally giving up flag football. He also plans to run cross country.

Baseball shouldn’t be a job for these kids. They love it. But playing other sports is good for them, too.

Granted, there are sometimes conflicts. We do have to get creative running them from one sport to another. But it can be done!

No, You Don’t Have to Travel THAT Much

Some teams have an insane travel schedule. They’ll go to Cooperstown. Omaha. Texas. San Diego. Arizona. The list goes on and on.

But just know that you don’t have to do this if you don’t want that type of travel. Our first two years of travel ball, we never once traveled out of state.

Depending on where you play and the level your kids play at, it’s very likely there’s more than enough competition in state. We will do a handful of overnight tournaments that are farther away in state, and those are always fun.

But this type of commitment should be determined by the families. Decide up front just how much traveling you are willing to do.

Yes, Tournament Ball is Freaking AWESOME

The memories that have been formed from our boys playing tournament baseball have been amazing. So many awesome games. So many big moments. So many friends made and unique experiences.

We’ve spent so much time with the team — the players, coaches and parents — that they have become our extended family. The bonds we’ve formed from this experience cannot be replaced.

While we were initially reluctant, the move was absolutely worthwhile. Our boys — who were already baseball crazed — are more obsessed with the game than ever before. They take pride in their team, and they work hard to get better.

As parents, we might be more stressed than before. Coaching this level certainly results in less sleep and higher blood pressure. But we wouldn’t trade these experiences for anything.

I don’t know whether our boys will one day play baseball in high school, college or beyond. That doesn’t really matter. All I know is that they are doing what they love at a high level, and seeing the joy on their faces is all the reassurance I need that we did the right thing.

Your Turn

What’s your story? How and when did you decide to join tournament ball? Or if you haven’t, what’s holding you back?

Let me know in the comments below!

It was March 17, 2013. I remember it like it was yesterday.

Not only was it St. Patrick’s Day, but it was a bigger holiday in our home: Baseball Assessments Day.

My oldest son had moved up to the 11-12 division, and my middle son Ryan was ready to take his place on the 9-10 year-old team. While he was only eight, he was more than ready to play with the big boys.

To celebrate the day, Ryan wore his green tuxedo shirt to assessments. It wouldn’t be my first choice, but the kid has more style than I do, so who am I to question it?

Since I was coaching, having him try out was simply a formality. He needed the number on his back, but I could have easily pulled him after it started.

None of us had any clue what was in store. What happened next could have easily changed the course of his young baseball future.

The Injury

It was a cold, windy day in Colorado. Not ideal weather conditions, but ideal weather for baseball in Colorado is rare until June.

Assessments that day would consist of drills for baserunning, fielding fly balls, fielding ground balls, hitting, pitching and catching. I would keep one eye on Ryan, but my main focus would be to help build a good supporting cast for him to help us defend our championship.

For fly balls, a pitching machine was used to shoot baseballs out at a high speed into the air for the waiting eight, nine and 10-year-olds. They merely needed to catch the three balls and throw them back in.

Because of the conditions that day, the trajectory on those fly balls was lowered. These kids would now be receiving line drives that cut through the wind.

It sounds dangerous now, but I wasn’t all that concerned about Ryan. He was young, but I never felt like he was in a position where he wouldn’t be able to protect himself. Unfortunately, the unexpected happened.

I stood to the side with my clipboard, anxiously waiting for Ryan to field his three fly balls.

Fly ball sent. Ryan runs to track it. Glove up. Ball escapes over the glove. Ryan goes down.

I was no longer the coach. I sprinted out to Ryan, hoping it wasn’t as bad as it looked. He’s a tough kid, so when I saw him immediately go down and the tears started, I knew it probably wasn’t good.

Ryan was wearing sunglasses on this day, which may have been good or bad. The ball missed his glove and hit him over the eye. His sunglasses were pushed into his eyebrow, creating a huge gash.

Ryan was gushing blood. Other coaches, the president of the league and my wife were all attending to him now. We did our best to stop the bleeding. My wife scooped him up and we rushed him off to the car while parents and kids watched in stunned silence.

We sped Ryan to the emergency room. As we exited the car and ran him inside, I heard the seven words I feared:

“I don’t want to play baseball anymore.”

Ouch…

Understand why this hurt me as his dad, and it wasn’t for selfish reasons. While I love baseball, it wasn’t from disappointment that he wouldn’t be able to fulfill some old man dreams of mine.

Ryan sincerely loved the game. He was great at it. And I feared this moment was going to take that joy away from him.

Ten stitches later, Ryan’s physical healing began.

Emotionally, he remained delicate.

Looking at that picture of Ryan with his bear Patches just reminds me of how little he was at the time. Such an experience could easily scar him for the rest of his life.

We’ve all heard of professional baseball players who simply can’t recover after taking a baseball to the head. The fear at the plate or on the mound is too much to overcome.

My wife and I quickly put together a plan for how we were going to handle this to help Ryan recover emotionally — so that if he wanted to play baseball again, he could.

At this point, though, we didn’t know what to expect. If he decided he no longer wanted to play, I would have completely understood.

Step 1: Don’t Mention Baseball

The knee jerk reaction would be to immediately assure Ryan that he’s going to be fine, and he can still play baseball. Tell him to be tough and all of that nonsense.

But we knew he was fragile at this point. I was also nervous that mentioning baseball at this sensitive time would just make it worse.

For the first night, we initially avoided the topic entirely. We didn’t talk about him playing again.

What’s funny is that it wasn’t long — I believe it was that evening — that he wanted to watch a baseball movie. While he was clearly returning emotionally to thinking about the game positively again, we weren’t going to push it.

Step 2: Talk Through What Happened

Next, it’s time to talk through with him what happened and what he thinks about it all.

My approach was to have him talk as much as possible to sort through his feelings. I also wanted to be sure it was clear to him that it’s normal if he was at all nervous about playing again. That we’ll take his return slowly.

I asked him about what he said — that he didn’t want to play baseball again — and how he felt about that now. He assured me he wanted to keep playing baseball, so we put a plan in place to get him there.

Step 3: Reintroduce a Ball

He’s beginning to recover both mentally and physically, but it’s not time to start throwing baseballs at him. He’s still in his pajamas, lounging inside all day for now.

Looking like he was ready, I suggested Ryan get out a rubber ball and start tossing it against the wall.

This got Ryan to start thinking about throwing and catching again without putting him at any risk. And it took very little encouragement!

Step 4: Outside with a Tennis Ball

The next day, it was time to start doing some baseball-like activities, but with a tennis ball. So we went out into the front yard and I first threw some easy grounders to him. Eventually, we moved to playing catch.

This helped him rebuild any confidence that may have been lost after the accident. This ball won’t hurt, so any fear would be limited.

Step 5: Light Work with a Baseball

The next day, it was clear he was ready to take it up another level. We brought back the baseball — the thing that created that gash above his eye.

Similarly to the tennis ball, we started with easy grounders and moved up to soft throws back and forth. The key was to slowly build his confidence while increasing difficulty at a cautious pace.

Step 6: Hitting with Protection

The next day, I got him onto a baseball field. Not only a baseball field, but the field where he suffered his injury. It was time to pitch him some baseballs.

Now, I was probably more nervous about this than he was. I don’t trust my own accuracy — particularly in this situation — so I borrowed a helmet that has a protective mask to shield his face.

Pitch after pitch. I threw and he hit.

Step 7: Return when Ready

Ryan surprised me. Within a week, he was ready to return — no fear, just the same passion and excitement he had for it before.

But the key here is not to rush it. Build his confidence slowly, but there’s no reason to move him faster than is necessary.

Luckily for us, the weather got worse during the following week, so Ryan was given some extra time before our first practice. But he was fully ready, and there were absolutely no mental side effects of the injury.

Move at Your Child’s Pace

Given the injury, Ryan recovered much more easily than I expected. But the keys were that he had a desire to keep playing and we were going to support him at whatever pace he wanted.

Take it slowly. Only do things when your child is ready to do them without fear.

Possibly the worst thing you could do here is push him back into game action too quickly. Another episode could just result in him quitting for good.

Your Turn

Has your child ever experienced a major sports injury that required mental recovery? How did you handle it?

Let me know in the comments below!

In sports, coaches are always looking for every advantage that can make the difference between winning and losing both games and tournaments. It’s a matter of understanding probability and strategies and applying them in ways that other coaches don’t.

I firmly believe that choosing home or visitor is an overlooked decision that can make that incremental difference. The vast majority of coaches, though, make this choice without thinking it through.

The Automatic Assumption

I’ve stood in that coaches meeting hundreds of times. And of the countless times I “lost” the flip, I can’t say there’s a single coach who chose to be the visiting team. Coaches are essentially flipping to see who is the home team.

While you can certainly make the argument that being the home team for a single game is either advantageous or offers no disadvantage, most coaches ignore the benefits of being the visitor in tournament ball.

The Home Advantage

“Home Field Advantage” is a term we’ve heard so many times, we assume there is some sort of inherent value in being the home team. But we forget about why that advantage exists.

There is an advantage to being the home team in sports — particularly college and professional sports — when teams travel to opposing facilities. It’s the home crowd that can provide the emotional lift for the home team or frustration for the opponent.

But when it comes to a baseball game being played on a neutral field, is there an advantage? We’re just changing the order of which team bats first or last. Each team will get the same number of opportunities either way — assuming they need them.

Does hitting first or last actually matter?

You could make the argument that having the home field would be an emotional advantage for a team with a dominant pitcher and a weaker offense. This allows that dominant pitcher to start the game and give his team an emotional lift while frustrating the opposition prior to that team coming to the plate.

However, you could just as easily make the argument that a strong offensive team should bat first to get that emotional lift. But since so few coaches choose to be visitor, that would not seem to be a driving force to this decision.

The argument is also made that having the final turn at bat in the game is an advantage. The idea here is that there is more pressure on the team in the field with so much on the line. I don’t know that this has ever been proven using controlled scenarios, but I have to imagine that the advantage is minimal — if anything at all.

The main thing I want you to understand here is that any value in these arguments is intangible.

Pitching Scarcity

Anyone who has been associated with tournament baseball knows just how valuable pitching is. There is a cap on the number of innings pitchers can throw to protect their arms — typically anywhere from six to eight innings in the tournament. As a result, you must be very careful about how you use these innings.

Tournaments tend to require that the champions play anywhere from four to eight games. And in order to do that — and win the final game — the coach needs to be strategic by winning games while saving as much good pitching as possible for the end.

Let’s look at extreme examples. You could use your best pitcher from the first day of pool play and move to your next best pitcher from there. This would give you the best chance of advancing to tournament play, but it would also give you the worst chance of winning a tournament game — and especially the championship game — since you won’t have any pitching left.

On the flip side, you could choose to save your three or four best pitchers, using your next four pitchers for pool play only. In that case, you’d be giving yourself the best chance to succeed in tournament play, but the worst chance of actually making it that far.

There’s a balance here. You need to use just as much pitching as you need to use in order to advance past pool play. And you need to use just enough pitching in each tournament game to win while having enough for the championship game.

Every time your best option isn’t on the mound it’s a bit of a risk. It’s a gamble that you believe you’ll be able to win without that best option.

The perfect scenario would be to save your ace for the championship game. That’s not always possible — actually, it rarely is. There are bound to be one or two close games along the way where you feel you must use your ace to advance.

The underlying point here is that each inning of pitching matters — a lot. And any coach for a tournament baseball team values these innings as they are often the difference between wins and losses.

The Visitor Advantage: In the Event of a Loss

Whenever there is a coin flip in pool play, it almost always makes the most sense to be the visitor. There is a tangible reason behind it.

Let’s take a game between Team A and Team B as our example. Team A wins the game 2-1. To simplify this, Team A scores both of their runs in the first inning while Team B scores their one run in the first as well.

So in this case, Team B will bat six times in a six inning game, regardless of whether they are the home or visiting team. Team A, on the other hand, will only bat the sixth time in the case where they are the visitor. Because as the team with the lead, they wouldn’t bat in the sixth inning as the home team.

In pool play, the coach is focused primarily on two things: 1) Making it to tournament play with a high seed, and 2) Saving pitching. Wins are important, but the main thing is that you do as well as possible while using as little pitching as possible.

In other words, losing is acceptable during pool play — to a point. You don’t need to go 4-0 to make it to tournament play; going 3-1 would get you there, too. Sometimes going 2-1-1 or 2-2 would get you there as well.

If you are the home team, you will always use a pitcher for each inning of the game — win or lose. As the visitor, you will use a pitcher in all but one inning if you lose.

I know, I know. “We always expect to win.” I’ve heard that argument against this approach. It’s shallow and misses the point.

By being the visitor in pool play, you aren’t saying you expect to lose. But if you do lose, you don’t need to waste a valuable inning of pitching. And that inning could prove to be needed the next day.

The Visitor Advantage: Bracket Seeding

How your team performs will determine where you will be seeded in bracket play — or whether you make it there at all. And the difference in your seed will often come down to tiebreakers.

Wins and winning percentage are always the first tie-breaker. That’s easy. But don’t ignore what’s next.

Tie-breakers vary from tournament to tournament, but they often include one or more of the following:

• Runs Scored
• Runs Allowed
• Run Differential

If you are always the home team, think about how you are hurting yourself in each scenario…

1. Runs Scored: If you go undefeated in a 4-game pool play, you may have willingly passed on four innings worth of scoring opportunities.

2. Runs Allowed: If you are always the home team and you lose one or two games in pool play, you may have willingly pitched two innings you didn’t need to pitch, potentially increasing your runs allowed.

3. Run Differential: You hurt yourself both ways here. You’re giving up run-scoring opportunities in the final inning of games you win, and you’re putting your defense in the field in the final inning of games you lose. Those who reflexively choose home team will be hurting themselves in almost every tournament that uses run differential for tie-breaking purposes in bracket seeding.

This is so big, it amazes me I even need to write this blog post. If any of these three things are your tie-breakers for bracket play, you should be the visitor. Any argument against it lacks substance.

The Visitor Advantage: Managing Pitching

Unless it’s the championship game, being the visitor also simplifies managing pitching.

When you’re visitor, you will bat twice when the opposition bats once; bat three times when the opposition bats twice; bat four times when the opposition bats three times, etc. This means something. Let me explain…

Let’s say that you’re in the top of the third inning of a tight game, a 3-3 score. Your team is the home team. In that case, it’s smart to keep your best pitcher in the game for at least another inning to keep your team in it.

Now let’s assume that you’re the visitor in this tight game. Before deciding to put your ace back on the mound for the third, your team comes to the plate and breaks out for 10 runs. Suddenly, it no longer seems as urgent to use that ace pitcher for the third. You just saved him for a later game.

By choosing to be visitor, you give yourself more time to evaluate what’s happening in the game to determine whether you need to continue to use a pitcher or move to someone else. By being the home team, you can only make this decision based on the current score, not knowing what your offense is going to do in the bottom of the inning.

Try It

Next time you’re in that coaches meeting prior to a tournament game and you win the toss, pick visitors. Observe the surprise on the opposing coach’s face. And smile all the way to the dugout!

The truth is that when 99% of coaches choose to be the home team, you are going to win 99% of these flips. Because even if you “lose,” you’ll get what you want.

And what you want goes well beyond the results of that single game. You’re thinking ahead to bracket play.

Your Turn

What are your thoughts on being the visitor instead of home team?

Let me know in the comments below!