![[Danehy]](../images/danehy.gif)
LEST IT BE thought that I
am nothing but a shiftless ne'er-do-well,
lying about and pontificating from on high, I want it known that
I take an active part in the shaping of the future of this country
and I do so at the most crucial juncture in the societal strand.
That's right--I coach Bobby Sox softball.
(I could also mention that I also coach YMCA basketball, teach Catechism and volunteer in my kids' classes, but I don't want to start a widespread panic in reaction to my pervasive influence.)
This is my third year with the Bobby Sox. Actually, my daughter Darlene has turned 12, so we've graduated up to something called American Girl, sort of Industrial Strength Bobby Sox. We're part of the Northwest Bobby Sox, with games on Tuesday, Wednesday and Saturday nights at Jacobs Park. Some nights we have to share the fields with an impromptu Immigrants Adult Soccer League. (I just assume they're immigrants, 'cause no American adult would ever want to play soccer.)
I remember my first year of coaching this stuff. All I can say is that it was not as good as I had hoped, not as bad as I had feared. I learned that year the Three Great Truths which have carried me through thus far. They are:
1. You're not coaching girls; you're coaching athletes. Even some women argue this point, but they're wrong and I'm right. Girls want to win just as much as guys do. They play just as hard as guys do. And with a little training and encouragement, they can learn to hock loogies just as well as guys do.
2. It is genetically and psychologically impossible for parents to understand the concept of "Team." I read a thing once where every state in the Union reported that their school kids had test scores which were above the national average. Obviously, half of them were lying, to themselves and/or to the public.
To hear the parents talk, the girls in this league (and, probably, every such league in the country) are like the kids at Lake Wobegon--they're all above-average. But that's human nature.
Every parent wants his kid to be a star. But it gets out of hand sometimes and sucks the fun out of things. What's wrong with a kid joining a team, making new friends, learning the sport and having a good time? Unfortunately a lot of parents and more than a few kids think that if the kid doesn't make All-Stars, the season was a failure.
It's been said that those who have a high regard for the law or sausage should never watch either being made. Heck, those things are a walk in the park compared to that meeting where the 12-girl All-Star squad that will advance to post-season competition is determined. Wars have started over less.
3. Nobody likes to play right field. This is the truest statement in all of sports. I think when Alexander Cartwright laid out the rules of baseball, the first rule should have been that if the batter hits the ball in the air over the first or second baseman's head, it's an out, because nobody wants to play in that part of the field.
A tribunal found that during the Argentinean reign of terror in the late 1970s, the Galtieri junta gave political prisoners the choice between electric shock torture or playing right field. It was the high electricity bill that eventually sent the country into economic collapse.
Every girl wants to pitch, except for Darlene, who wants to play shortstop like her hero, UA star Laura Espinoza. In fact when people find out that I'm the coach and Darlene is not the pitcher, they think I'm some sort of religious zealot visiting a Ramadan-like punishment on my progeny.
The most challenging part of coaching is trying to forge a team from a group of individuals. We started the year with 12 girls from five different schools and ranging in age from 11 to 15.
One girl quit because she got a job. The remaining 11 came together quite nicely despite their diversity.
We have Abby, who does barrel racing on the weekends; Courtney, who plays the sax; and Emily, a great kid who listens to Nine Inch Nails and has hair the color of...I'll get back to you when I think of something else that's that color. The twins, Kristin and Kama, are a coach's dream; they can play anywhere and never complain.
There's Beth and her sister, Buffy (which is pronounced "Scruffy," due to my deep-seated hostility towards all things preppy). Together with Celina, Jennifer and Cristina, the team has been playing really well. We started out 1-2, but a 4-0-1 streak has us tied for first place in the league.
So far, it's been a great season. The girls genuinely like each other, they seem to tolerate me ok, complaints from parents have been few and far between, and the team is playing good, solid ball.
Now all I have to do is find a way to get all 11 of them on the All-Star team.
