By STEVE KRAUSE
Everywhere you look, baseball is losing traction as America’s pastime.
It no longer seems to be the top sport of choice among young people. Maybe this is because there’s too much standing around and not enough action. Perhaps it’s because Major League Baseball markets the most important component of the summer game — the World Series — by playing it on chilly autumn nights.
What was once a nice, crisp under-three-hour game now takes upwards of four hours, thanks in part to television, and thanks to pitchers who are afraid to throw the ball over the plate and hitters who are afraid to swing the bat. And let’s not even get into how many times batters step in and out of the box.
But bless baseball. It revels in its archaic reputation. It is steeped in tradition. Where other sports start their seasons simply by playing, baseball has extensively-staged ceremonies that harken back to a time when the sport was a celebration of new beginnings, both for itself and the American rhythm of life.
And that brings us to today. It is opening day for three of Lynn’s five Little Leagues, Pine Hill, Wyoma and West Lynn (the other two had theirs last week), as well as Saugus National. And just like the men they want to emulate, Little Leagues do it up right for their opening day. All the kids gather in their newly-distributed, nice, clean uniforms and their brand-new hats and they form a parade from a designated spot to their fields. Perhaps they’re escorted by a police cruiser, or a firetruck. Whatever, for that brief moment, on what is usually a chilly April morning, the streets, and our hearts, are theirs.
What defines Americana more than seeing eight-year-old kids whose uniforms look about six sizes too big, and whose hats are falling down over their eyes, and whose gloves look about as big on them as the brontosaurus steak Fred Flintstone got at the car hop?
Little Leagues take cues from the Major Leaguers in every way. The bunting is festooned all over the outfield fences, there are usually politicians there, and there’s bound to be a speech or two.
This proves to a difficult trick in Lynn, as two of the three leagues have scheduled their festivities for 9 a.m., with West Lynn’s at 10. The only other time city officials have to make such choices on where to go is on July 4, when just about every neighborhood has a horribles parade.
It’s also a day to revel in America, as every festivity will include the national anthem and/or a salute to the flag.
Finally, Little League opening day is a time to celebrate all that Little League was originally intended to be: kids getting together, having fun, and learning a little bit about a sport that was, when it was founded in 1939 in Williamsport, PA, an indelible part of American culture. The accent was on participating, coaching, and teaching by example.
These days, youth sports go year-round. There are just too many organizations whose aims seem to be to weed out the exceptional kids and focus on them. But to me, Little League is more about the kids who are in there learning, swinging the bat and striking out a few times and scuffing their feet in the dirt as they had back to the dugout, with their heads hanging, just like the big leaguers do. There will always be a place for the naturals. The rest of the kids need attention and validation too, and the good thing about Little League is that until the different communities select their all-star teams and play for a shot at the World Series, those other kids get their chance to compete against the so-called elite and see how they stack up. The organization discourages “super teams.” This isn’t to see there aren’t any, but stacking them involves a tremendous amount of creative planning, and certainly not worth the effort of anyone save deranged parents who use Little League and other youth sports to compensate for failed childhood athletic endeavors.
So congratulations to all the small-sized kids with the large-sized unis; and to all the kids who have coerced their parents to go out and spend untold money on baseball cleats, batting gloves and other pieces of equipment that allow them, for the brief time they wear it, to imagine that they’re David Ortiz or Dustin Pedroia. Because that’s what it’s all about.