You know what I miss? Air that doesn’t hurt your face. I hate winter; I could not hate something any more than I hate the snow, slush and ice. I miss it being 85 degrees by noon and sitting in the sun becoming crispy bacon. But what I miss the most is sitting outside of a baseball dugout, working on that crispy bacon look surrounded by 18 high school and college kids that look like a mix of Savannah Bananas Baseball versus “Hi, I’m Johnny Knoxville and welcome to Jackass” who make up each year’s current team. I am a female coach and trainer for an American Legion Baseball team… *insert gasp here*. That’s right. A whole ass female who is coaching college kids in baseball. This is my year 8, and these are some of the best (and sometimes worst) months of my life. Also, I am going to tell you why travel baseball teams can kiss my ass. Buckle up.
Many years ago, my husband Kyle, who is literally some sort of baseball savant (totally NOT kidding about that) decided he would take a head coaching job for our local American Legion Baseball team. The politics of high school baseball and the cliques that form within those high school athletics are ridiculous; he needed out or I was going to jail. You know how T- Pain said, “Talk to me, I talk back”? That is Kyle and me. I will burn the world for that man while says nothing at all, but I digress.
I didn’t even know what American Legion Baseball was, what he was getting into, or what was going to happen. But I can tell you he was handed the most haphazard mess. From nonmatching jerseys to some random kids who were from all over the place and were the most “Bad News Bears” type thing you have ever seen, he was handed the entire shit show and told to fix it and coach these kids from June 1 until late July or into early August, every single summer. There are lots of rules to Legion Baseball, and due to these rules, especially pertaining to age, you basically get a new set of kids each summer. Okay… wtf, but okay.
I will spare you all the years it was a grind trying to build a program out of nothing, the setbacks, the wins and losses, some guy claiming we embezzled money (you don’t even get paid for being a coach, tell me how that happened.?! To note, it was totally false and HE did it- if you want more of a story on that, let ya girl know.) After battling back from all that, we have created probably one of the strongest, most well-known teams in Indiana and absolutely one of the most supported by our Post. We are SO spoiled by our Post, we want for nothing. Not all Legion teams are as lucky as we are, but we are taken care of.
I never thought I would have been the one out there with Kyle doing the thing, but he we are, and I am doing the damn thing so hard that I landed myself a social media gig (Social Media Director for the State of Indiana Baseball? Whew!!) with the state level of baseball. It was a hard road to get here, but now we are bringing back American Legion Baseball one day at a time. I think that my favorite part is watching my husband excel at being a coach, running the show and doing the thing that he loves most (probably even more than me) – Baseball.
But do you know what my second favorite part is? Being a female coach in a 100-year-old deeply rooted tradition that has been completely male, just until recently. I laugh to myself every time I watch these men crash out (that’s what the kids are saying now, right?) because they see a woman coaching; it sends these old guys straight for the baby aspirin. I love watching them watch me make social media content and being disgusted. Welcome to the 21st century, my guys. And you know what? It’s working. I am demanding respect for everything I do with my husband by my side. I have never worked so hard for literally $0 just to show The Good Ol’ Boys that just because I have two X chromosomes, I can do what they do and do it better. Our social media presence is unrivaled. We have thousands of dollars of medical equipment that has seriously helped our teams and several others through multiple medical episodes. We are running this thing as hard as we can, we are building this program no matter what, and the old guys are still mad.
That dumb anger of theirs means something to me. If they are mad, I am doing something right (In this case, not all the cases that I piss them off). I am connecting that old world with the new one, even if most of the other coaches and head honchos are kicking and screaming every step of the way.
American Legion Baseball has brought me going on 9 years of kids that I spend almost every day with for 2 months. They treat me like I am one of the guys (It’s terrifying) but I love having that sense of a “family” during this time. They become one of “my” kids and I am fiercely protective of them. I am the first out of the dugout if they are hurt and I am the first out if someone is talking shit. I will mom them to death and tell them about all the infectious diseases you can get if you are a dumbass and make dumbass decisions. I get to sit with my two former players turned coaches, one of which I still have a Snapchat streak of 912 days, love his now wife (she was coming to the games when he played for us and was in high school- I feel so old) and Kyle and I were at their wedding. The other coach and I text daily about anything and everything. Our birthdays are a day apart, his Nana is my Nana now and she buys me face cream because I feel old. We are a family. This is what sports are supposed to be about. Every single kid that plays for us will say at the end of the season that this was the best year of baseball they ever played and wished they would have played sooner.
I love that more than you could ever know. The Ice Queen has melted.
But what a lot of what people don’t know or understand is what American Legion Baseball is. We scout kids from different school districts and basically make a team up of the best of the best. Basically, we are taking the all-star kids from multiple schools and making a mega all-star team. Multiple teams in Indiana do this, and then they play against each other. We have sectionals, state finals, and even a national level championship game if you make it that far. It’s a huge deal, and its all quietly playing in the background around everyone that plays baseball…. Because of travel ball. Honestly, fuck travel ball.
For those who don’t know, travel baseball is a pay to play function where they will take anyone that can throw a ball or swing a bat and make them into a team. Travel baseball initially started like Legion, making an all-star team out of great players; and there are still some good travel teams out there, but you must be very good to get invited. But the real issue with travel baseball is that Johnny’s dad gets mad that his kid- who has hit one ball all season- isn’t playing enough- so Johnny’s dad and his buddies, who haven’t ever even touched a baseball let alone play it, go make another team so Johnny can shine on that team. This goes on and on and on until you have the most watered-down shit storm you have ever seen and parents are paying $2500-$5000 for their kids to play summer baseball and only playing 5-6 games. It’s disgusting. All because Johnny’s daddy wanted his kid to grow up and be a pitcher for ‘Bama but really Johnny didn’t even want to play baseball at all.
Then… these kids age out of travel ball and find out there is Legion ball. Most of the time after 17, we are all that is left for their age range before they play in college (if they end up doing so). Sometimes these kids are natural athletes and we take them on, but MAN do they have some real jacked up bad habits that we spend a whole season working out.
Travel Ball= Expensive bad habit making bullshit. I said what I said. Come at me, bro.
I might be a little biased, but Legion baseball is where it’s at. In just a few months you will find me at the end of the dugout (lovingly known as talk shit corner) with a camera around my neck, a phone in my hand videoing these boys doing everything between tiktok dances and pitching -and me running in and out of the dugout grabbing Liquid IV packets and patching up ripped open knees and elbows. We can’t forget my screaming at the head coach at the other end of the dugout about wtf he’s doing putting people in (he just ignores me, ugh), screaming at the umps for calls that are dumber than hell, and just screaming at kids to get their shit together.
It’s my whole summer; and I can’t wait to be baking in the sun, watching the man I love be stoic as hell and watching really good baseball. There is no where else I would rather be.