Running

Running has long been the standard punishment for baseball players. A lot of times after a game you run poles (one “pole” is running from one end of the outfield fence to the other and back, staying in the vicinity the fence) equal to the number of runs you lost by, or perhaps the number of errors, or strikeouts looking. Even if you personally didn’t make any of the mistake that the coach specifies, you have to run; it’s a team thing. I’m here today to take a deeper look at this tradition, or more accurately, tell you why it’s completely and utterly stupid.
First, you’re being punished for something you were already punished for in the game. It’s not as if anyone enjoys making an error or striking out or losing. If I make an error, not wanting to do it again and suffer the consequences that come with it (hurting the team, looking bad, and possibly getting less playing time) is motivation enough to try to correct it. Running will just annoy me.
Second, you’re punishing the whole team for something one player did—even if multiple players committed the offense, they each get punished for everyone’s mistake, not just their own. Take for example my game yesterday. I didn’t play at all. There was nothing I could have done to change anything that happened in it. Yet if, after the game, the coach had deemed running “necessary”, I would have had to run the same amount as someone who might have made 5 mistakes. How does that make sense?
To add on to that, I once heard a coach say that when one player makes a mistake, the whole team suffers, so the whole team would run for the one player’s mistake. How does that work? The team already suffered, and there’s nothing the team can do to change it, so why punish the team?
There are a few situations that I would agree with running. I could definitely see making players run as punishment for bad behavior, but still not the whole team. Also possibly for repeated laziness, such as not running hard in a game, and maybe even repeatedly being late. But those latter ones I’d still be more inclined to punish by taking away playing time. It’s more direct, and it also matters a lot more to players—I know I’d run 10 poles every game if I could be guaranteed I’d play every inning. But if I did sit them, I’d be sure to let them know that their laziness was the reason they were getting splinters in their butt, not their performance.
In closing, if any of you ever happen to coach a baseball team, never ever make them run as punishment for poor play.
The defense rests.

Does it get any better?

The other day I played a game in one of the most amazing baseball settings I’ve experienced. The weather was around 60-65 degrees, and it was about a 45 minute drive to get to the field. The drive was nice, despite the length, especially the last third of it, as it was on a rather remote road with high speed limits. This combination of good roads to cruise on, good weather to cruise with the windows down in, and good music to cruise to (Zeppelin) set a good stage for arrival at the game.
It got better as I approached the town that the game was in. It was a very small town--I think the only non-residential buildings I saw were a school and a library. There were a few houses, not run down, but definitely eligible for an HGTV renovation show; the buildings gave it the perfect small town feel (fitting, since that’s what it was).
When I arrived at the field, the skies were cloudy and the wind was blowing. The game was already underway (a different start time and location than previously stated were to thank for that). I stretched, ran, tossed, and sat on the bench, chewing seeds and thinking about this perfect setting for a game.
After a couple innings the sun started shining, and I was sent in to play third. I played four innings there, having two fielding chances, one which I made the 5-3 play, and the other which I rushed my throw and threw the ball away. Oh well, nothing hurt. I walked in my first at-bat and struck out in my second.
In the end we won easily, our whole offense producing, our pitching being solid, and our defense playing very well yet again.
On the way back, I of course had the pleasure of driving those same fun roads, listening to the same great music, and enjoying the same fantastic weather (the only difference between the trips was that on the return trip I stopped at Arby’s for some delicious food).
All in all, I was feeling on top of the world: playing baseball in the perfect setting, driving around, not having a care in the world. Does it get any better than that?