A Stealth Introduction

The 2011 Baseball season is nearly upon Grapevine Faith Christian. Monday, Jan 17 at high noon, the '11 version of the Lion team will emerge and begin its arduous trek to...who knows where?

I think if you asked each player or parent, they will have expectations; parents find out their expectations don't always match that of the son playing. Certainly some goals in mind as well. Already, one of our seniors, Peter Ashton, has made it clear that the team has decided they would like to win state.I didn't picture that from this group, but I like the mentality. We can't control much in this life as we are often reminded, most recently with the Steinmann family.

This is a group that doesn't assume they will win it; but they do work as if they would like to win it. That doesn't guarantee winning, but as we have been saying since September (and God since forever)

All hard work brings a profit, but mere talk leads only to poverty - Proverbs 14:23

I like the way this team is beginning to own their season and place expectations on themselves. Several players have aspirations to continue to play baseball beyond high school. That in itself brings a whole different level of work and expectations. The tension between individual accomplishments and team success can be tough to navigate.

Baseball is interesting like that.

"I'd walk through hell in a gasoline suit to play baseball." - Pete Rose

When I played, I was constantly presented two realities: how the team did and how I did. They are hopelessly linked; the team must have success in order for me to really enjoy the rest: my stats. However, there were times (and this is what must be constantly and relentlessly pursued and pushed back) my performance was comforting, in spite of the team losing. Although I was easily the biggest pouter after a loss, I was even more inconsolable if the loss coincided with a poor individual performance from me.

The game is difficult and even more so is the challenge of dealing with the difficulties. The ebb and flow of emotions in a game where emotions can betray a player has perplexed and haunted me. Results matter and there isn't anything a player can do except smile and move on when he smokes a line drive and it ends up harmlessly in the glove of an opposing player.

I've coached the same way I played (and that isn't always gold star stuff) with intensity, tenacity and an intolerable distaste for losing. I am acutely aware of my weaknesses in those areas and have spent some time in the Mudville mines, not to mention God's dugout as a result of my elementary dealings with adversity.

I have foolishly forgotten my own failures playing the game I love. As a junior in high school, I committed three errors in the same inning at shortstop...and yes, my team lost in the bi-district playoffs as a result. I do tell that story every year, to remind me and our players it actually did happen to us, too.

When I was coaching my oldest son, Zach, on a team a couple of friends and I put together, Lynn Vanlandingham asked me, "Did you ever strike out when you played?".
That was a punch in the gut and I suddenly realized I had been coaching a 10 year old as if they were in their second year in the big leagues and should have known better.

Sometimes players will get stuck in moments; coaches are no different. I have observed countless coaches and players over the years and the one thing that never ceases to hold my attention is reactions to failure.

I love watching the 'non-reaction' good coaches execute when adversity strikes. In my own estimation, I fall into the 50th percentile on that scale of "visible body language" when adversity comes. I have a permanent wrinkle on the brow of my forehead from adversity.

Some players break bats over their leg, some throw their glove into the dugout before reaching it in disgust after leaving the game, some argue with the umpire until being tossed. However, there are other players  who have a plan to control only what they can control and it starts with:

attitude and effort

Baseball, in case you haven't noticed, is a game of failure. A 70% failure rate at the plate gets a player into the Hall of Fame. Players who have made the HOF have spent the good portion of their life failing in performance, but excelling in forgetting about the failure. Where have we heard this before? Oh yeah, Paul said,

I'm not saying that I have this all together, that I have it made. But I am well on my way, reaching out for Christ, who has so wondrously reached out for me. Friends, don't get me wrong: By no means do I count myself an expert in all of this, but I've got my eye on the goal, where God is beckoning us onward—to Jesus. I'm off and running, and I'm not turning back. Phil 3:14 (The Message)

What separates players who play for a long time and those who do not is not only skill, perseverance and work ethic; it is the ability to deal with adversity in such a way that it doesn't consume the player and destroy confidence.

"Every season has its peaks and valleys. What you have to try to do is eliminate the Grand Canyon." - Andy Van Slyke

 I've noticed in the last few years I have lost a small portion of my focus on the process, which was (and is) so important to me and got stuck in the 'moments of failure'. I have a resolution this year to make it about what I really believe. How we respond to adversity is more important and meaningful than what takes place on the diamond. Our players will be the next generation of leaders; husbands and fathers who will deal with their share of adversity.

As sure as sparks fly upward, man is born for trouble - Job

We talk a lot with our sons about having a planned response to adversity. We just had fun tonight saying, "Thank you, Mr. Umpire, for giving me the opportunity experience this unfavorable circumstance!" while talking them through the proper responses to a foul they didn't think they committed. It's been said the apple doesn't fall far from the tree (circa 1750) and in this case (and a plethora of others) it is all too true.

It's one thing to observe "palms in the air" and parents vehemently protesting a call and feigning shock in my spirit; it's altogether disheartening to have the Spirit of God illuminate it in a Nathan / David moment "That man is you!".

We can't forget we are what we repeatedly do. That is, all at once, humbling and shameful.

My commitment for this season (and beyond) is to pursue relentlessly, a thankful and appreciative spirit of coaching. A 'kinder, gentler' Coach Postema, if you will. I teach and coach that way in PE all the time and have for years. It's time for that man to be a part of the team this year.

What will this team accomplish this year? I'm not sure, but I am looking forward to the season.

Blessings