Let kids be kids.(a trip back to little league days)(Brief Article)

I played Little League growing up. My mom was Team Mom, and she was head of concession stands every Saturday. I'd get to the park at 10 a.m.--that was when the first game started. I'd play my game, then help my mom in the concession stand.

She would give me $3. I had to decide if I wanted an Astro Pop or a hamburger and a Coke. But I couldn't blow all the money on food--I had to save enough to buy my baseball cards.

I'd trade for hours with my friends. I'd get a Dale Murphy, and I was happy ... until somebody got Nolan Ryan. We'd go up to the top of the bleachers and trade cards and get foul balls; you could trade the balls in for a Coke. It was a good deal because I was thirsty--I didn't buy a Coke earlier because I had spent my money on baseball cards. I think I was happy.

When I was 12, our team made it all the way to the state finals. We ran into a buzz saw from East Marietta, Ga. They beat us like a drum. They had this pitcher who we swore had been seen shaving. He was dominant. He threw so hard we had no chance. That team from Marietta went to Williamsport, Pa., and won the Little League World Series that year, 1983.

I don't remember losing sleep over the loss. We just played to have fun. I think I was happy.

Like the rest of the country, I was taken in by the kid sensation Danny Almonte during this year's Little League World Series. Then, the reports came out that he was 14--two years too old--and Almonte's team from the Bronx had to forfeit its games.

What did this incident tell us about us? Do we want to relay a win-at-all-costs message to 12-year-old kids? What ever happened to playing ...