Not that long ago, the sanctity of Little League baseball was as pure as water from a spring. Kids all over the country congregated to local fields for a ritual that can only be described as American as apple pie and without any flaws.
Parents and neighbors sat in wooden bleachers and lawn chairs cheering on their aspiring stars who were decked out in inexpensive uniforms that carried the sponsorship of a local auto repair business or a small independent bank.
How I truly long for that era. Call me a traditionalist who truly despises aluminum bats and or even someone who is squarely stuck in history, but those my friends were unlike today, the banner years of Little League baseball.
Armed today with a multimillion dollar television deal from ESPN and blue chip sponsorship that further fattens the coffers of all those involved, the game that so many small towns and communities have enjoyed for decades has been turned into a spectacle for broadcast, one much closer to reality television than the product that was once viewed as an introduction to America’s pastime for millions of young players.
Before we go any further, I will confess that I was never a big proponent for any format that places a developing child in a white hot spotlight, allowing them to think even for a moment they are something special and deserve the attention. My sentiments aside, the increased popularity of the Little League World Series has pulled the simple joy of children playing baseball out of what I contend is the proper environment of a small local stage to an outrageous platform that can only be described as a dream for advertisers and television networks.
While Little League baseball as an organization can not be blamed for wanting to strengthen its product, do we really need some 81 games televised live as we saw in the month of August?
That number also included the meaningless consolation game which featured two teams full of dejected young men who had fallen just short of the championship tilt and were forced to go through the motions for a rather lackluster third place title. I salute each and every young man that participated and as a .203 hitter in my own Little League career. The real question I have is why doesn’t more of the revenue that streams in to Williamsport, Pa., each year find its way back to the communities these young people reside in, or for that matter to the players themselves?
Sure, teams that participate in the LLWS are granted funds for travel, lodging and meals, and new equipment, but is that really enough considering the television revenue they are generating? Uh, no.
Why not allocate funds for educational scholarships to be used down the road in preparation for a life that will not include professional baseball for 99.9 percent of them? Maybe a chunk of that change being brought in could also go for enhancements to playing fields across the nation, especially those in regions that are impoverished.
While they do provide monies annually to the member communities of their organization, it pales in comparison to the overall monies generated by the spectacle the LLWS has sadly become. As television ratings increase so will the amount of the monies that changes hands by virtue of networks bidding for the broadcast rights like floor brokers on the stock exchange.
While many revel in the warmth and alleged purity of youth baseball, I contend that that ship has sailed some time ago and was replaced at the harbor dock by the U.S.S. ESPN, one that has no upscale cabin space for all the players who make the luxury liner even possible.
Sure, I am claiming exploitation here.Then again, there are the hundreds of thousands of parents who would adamantly disagree with me, stating that the trip to Williamsport is a dream come true for their children, and that I am missing that important point. I can see how the players would be thrilled to be a part of it all, but with the barrels of money pouring in, and the distribution of wealth being so lopsided, the sniff test here is failed terribly.
That supersedes what little credibility this event has left as it continues to showcase entertainment, rather than promoting the euphoria that baseball at this level once provided to millions of kids.
Danny Bridges, who never could sleep the night before his Little League games, can be reached at: (317) 578-1780 or at Bridgeshd@aol.com.
Danny Bridges is an award-winning journalist and a longtime sports columnist for the Indianapolis Recorder. He covers college, professional sports and especially all things IndyCar racing. He can be reached at 317-370-8447 or at bridgeshd@aol.com.
