Baloney

January 27, 2015

When I was in high school and college I worked a different job each summer, usually looking for hard labor that would help prepare my body for the next football season, and each time confirming that it would not be my choice for lifetime employment. One summer I worked at a lumber yard and paper mill complex along the banks of the Wisconsin River.

Every day I ate lunch with the men who had made this their life’s work; and I grew in ways both positive and negative as I listened to their conversations and tales. We all brought our own lunch pails.

One day, one of the more veteran employees opened his lunchbox and flew into a rage. “I can’t believe it,” he exclaimed. “Baloney again! I hate baloney.”

Trying to calm him down, another worker said, “If you hate baloney so much, just ask your wife to make you something else.”

To which the complainer replied, “That won’t work. I make my own lunches,” which resulted in an uproar of laughter from the rest of us.

I thought of this incident recently as I was preparing to meet with constituents about the rules they most love to hate: policies relating to coach and player contact out of season. Those are our most criticized rules.

But it occurs to me, if we don’t like the sandwich we’re eating – out-of-season coaching rules – we should remember: we made them ourselves, and we can change them. In fact, no one is in a better position to do so than we are. And no one has a greater duty to do so than we have, if we really are in need of a new recipe.

Big Lessons for Little Leaguers

March 13, 2015

The only thing worse than adults corrupting kids for their own glory and gratification is politicians trying to excuse those adults so the kids learn nothing positive and much that’s negative from the situation.

So, things went from bad to worse when the mayor of Chicago tried to pressure Little League Baseball to restore the victories and championships that the Jackie Robinson West All-Stars baseball team claimed during the 2014 Little League World Series while some of its players were in violation of the organization’s residency rules.

So far, the kids have learned that it’s not right to cheat. The mayor would have them learn that you can avoid the consequences of cheating if you know people in the right places.

Little League is a victim of its own success. The more hype it has brought to what once was a healthy local game for 9-12 year olds of modest skills – the more it has become a spectacle for all-stars who, really, are merely those children who have matured the most – the more it has raised the stakes, the more Little League Baseball has invited excesses and even corruption.

This trend will only get worse; and it will get worse much faster if the politicians try to overpower those Little League officials who are still trying to hold things in check. Those so-called “stubborn” leaders offer Little League its biggest and best legacy.