Tournament takes toll on coach more than players

Pranks like placing gum on a rookie's cap occur often during contests where the tension is high but the atmosphere is loose among players.

If you tuned in last week, you will remember that the college baseball team I coach recently competed in a championship tournament down in Florida. Despite being underdogs, we clawed and fought our way to the championship game, eventually losing to the top-seeded team in fifteen innings.

But alas, there are stories to be told that don’t end up in the sports sections of newspapers. And I promised I would clue you in on some of the idiosyncrasies involved in the conduct of such a championship tournament run.

Having experienced it from both angles, rest assured it is a hundred times easier to play in championships than it is to coach in them. During our amazing five day run, I slept about as much as fraternity pledges do during Rush week. My king size bed had five pillows, none of which induced sleep. I discovered that the power of the jitters is stronger than the strength of Tylenol PM and a wide-open air conditioner combined.

Hotel rooms get smaller each day during a tournament. And the complimentary shampoo provided makes your hair stick out like a porcupine’s after a few days. No baseball coach or player would jinx his team by packing for five days. Superstition reigns in baseball. Consequently, we all ran out of clean clothes by day three.

Personally I washed my clothes by placing them in the shower with me. Underwear, undershirts, mesh shorts, and socks joined me under the spray on several occasions. To my chagrin the drain clogged one day, but thankfully I repaired it myself while wearing my birthday suit, which incidentally needs a good dry cleaning.

After the shower, I cleverly hung my wet clothes by the air conditioner. Unfortunately when I returned from breakfast, the entire room smelled like half-clean wet socks.

The worst part of a game is the idle time leading up to it. You can’t eat or drink but somehow your body still wants to go to the bathroom 35 times a day, which may explain why I slimmed fast and lost five pounds during the tournament.

I’m not a gum guy but I chewed two entire packs of Wrigley’s something or other during one particularly stressful game. I’m certain some of my hair fell out and of what remains, I suspect some visible graying occurred when I wasn’t paying attention.

Meanwhile, while I was aging in dog years right before everyone’s eyes, these players of mine were having the time of their lives, loving every minute and seizing every moment. It’s not fair, I thought, that they’re having a blast and I’m fighting cardiac arrest. While I’m searching for a chainsaw to cut the tension in the air, they’re sticking bubble gum bubbles on caps on top of heads of unsuspecting freshmen.

Such is the nature of youth. Especially youths who appreciate every moment as a gift from God and as an opportunity to show their stuff playing the game they love.

So in the end a coach must legitimately ask himself if losing weight and hair, eating unhealthy, sweating bullets, destroying the inner linings of the stomach, and smelling of partially cleaned attire is truly worth it. And the only conclusion of any sane coach would be that, without a doubt, every moment of such an experience is priceless.