COMMUNITY SPORTS: Batting aid does not suit kids to a tee

Back in the good old days of T-ball, my son measured success on just one factor: the postgame snack.

A Kudos bar or some gummy bears to complement an ice-cold Capri Sun, and he was a happy camper.

Snacks are still No. 1 on his list now that he's playing in the Rookie Division, but there's something that ranks a close second in determining success each week: whether he needed to use the batting tee.

There is no fate worse in the Rookie Division than seeing a coach grab the batting tee during an at-bat.

Rookie Division rules -- at least in Escondido National Little League -- allow each batter four pitches from the coach. If the batter doesn't hit the ball by the fourth pitch, a coach puts the tee on home plate for the kid to use.

It makes sense from a practical standpoint. An at-bat could last a week without a pitch count.

But it's hard not to wonder if compassion should take priority.

Most kids aren't subtle when it comes to expressing themselves when a fellow player is forced to use the tee. It doesn't matter that the hitter may not even have had a good pitch to hit. Use the tee and you might as well start wearing a scarlet letter T to games.

I have been reminded more than once of a story a friend told me about his Rookie Division experience last year.

In an effort to get one of his fielders to pay attention after a few pitches to a struggling batter, he said, "You better get ready. I think he's going to hit the next one to you."

The kid wasn't buying it, telling the coach, "I think he's going to be hitting off the tee."

I tell my son to try his best and not worry if he needs to use the tee, but he's fully aware of the stigma attached to it.

The worst part is that Little League rules don't account for poor pitching from the coach. It doesn't matter if the pitch is down the middle of the plate or 10 feet above the batter's head. The kids are supposed to get four pitches and then the tee.

I say "supposed to," because most Rookie Division coaches have learned to bend this rule. In this case, bending the rules sure beats seeing a kid embarrassed because you couldn't give him a decent pitch to hit.

I've even come up with a three-step process to avoid the tee.

Step 1: Scan the area to be sure the Little League police aren't watching. You might not see them right away, but they're out there.

Step 2: Pretend you've lost track of the pitch count. A simple, "Was that the third pitch or the fourth pitch?" should suffice. It's unlikely that the opponent's coaches will notice because they're busy trying to get their fielders to stand up and stop drawing in the infield dirt.

Step 3: Pray that you get that next pitch over the plate.


