Plan Your Work, Work Your Plan

This is a story about a softball season where it all went right...sort of.

For some crazy reason, when Meredith turned seven years old, I decided to coach her team. The first year I coached was a tough. You see, there were so many girls that entered the league that the officials decided to create two expansion teams. What that means is two teams were created from nothing. My team started from scratch...no returning players...no previous coach...nothing. I assumed that the league officials would allow me and the other new coach to pick some older players first...before any of the other teams...to even things out. Well, that didn't happen. Instead they dropped us into the draft with nothing. Our consolation? We could have whatever was left over at the end of the draft. Then to pour salt on an open wound, they made us pick a number out of a hat from 1 to 8. Whatever number we drew decided which draft choice we had.

The other expansion team drew out the number "1". I drew the number "7". So, out of eight teams, I was picking right before the previous year's league champion. Six other teams were able to select players before me in every round. I was doomed before we even began. Oh, and I forgot to mention that I had to take Meredith in the 3rd round. Oh, and I forgot to mention that my next door neighbor had agreed to help me coach, but I had to take his daughter in the 4th round. Do you see how this was stacking up? Two picks...number 7 and number 14...and then Meredith and my neighbor's kid. After the 4th round, most of the kids are pretty much lumped together. You know, no one player is any better than another. So I had to pick two good players with my first two selections and then get lucky.

Long-story-short...I got lucky. No, we didn't have some magical year. We won only two games that year. My neighbor couldn't help much because of his work and his daughter quit playing around mid-season. I remember thinking that I had bitten off more than I could chew.

The next year, I went into the draft picking 2nd. Unfortunately, the two games that we won the previous season were against the other expansion team, which gave them the first draft pick. I made some good selections in the draft...or maybe I just got lucky again. At any rate, I went into the season with only one clear problem...who is going to pitch? I'll never forget the first practice. I asked my assistant coach to help me figure out which girls could throw a strike. He took half the girls to one side of the field and I took the other half. We lined them up and asked each of them to pitch to us. After thirty minutes, we took a water break.

Me: "Did you find anyone that could throw it over the plate? I've been fielding grounders over here."

Asst. Coach: "Yeah (laughing), several of them can throw it over the plate, but it might be 10 feet over the head of the batter."

Me: "Crap! What are we gonna do?"

We ended practice with no clear pitcher. One set of parents stopped by and said they would send their daughter to a pitching coach. I was thrilled; but deep down inside, I thought it was too late to make a difference. I told Angie that we would be lucky to win half of our games. Little did I know.

Our strength was speed. Our girls were fast to field the ball, fast to run the bases, and had incredible bat speed. And once our girls were on base, you'd better call 911, because the bases were about to be on fire. Speed, baby, speed! We went through most of the season undefeated. Only one team stood a chance to beat us that year and we had to face them near the end of the season. We had beaten them in our first meeting. But they had played without their best player, who was their pitcher. I'll admit I was worried before we played them and I think the girls picked up on my nervousness. We were soundly defeated that day.

The good news was that we still led the league because we only had one loss. The other team had two. All we had to do was finish the season without losing, which we did. But, then, the drama built. You see, every season they had a league champion and a tournament champion. How could we claim to be the true champs if we didn't beat the 2nd place team in the tournament?

I made a plan. I reviewed where the other team hit the ball the second time we played them. Over 80% of the hits were to the right side of the infield. Plus, I noticed that most of their scoring was done in chunks, with just a few players making the hits. So, my game plan was this: 1) Place my fastest player on 2nd base. She could gobble up anything hit in her general area and she was able to beat anybody to the base in a dead run. 2) Prevent certain players from hitting the ball. I told my pitcher that I would signal her when "special" batters came to the plate. I instructed her to wind up and throw the fastest ball she could muster. It didn't matter if the ball hit the back of the backstop 20 feet over anyone's head. I just didn't want certain players to have a chance to hit the ball.

The plan worked. I'll never forget the first time our pitcher threw the fast ball. The batter turned and looked at her coach with eyes as big as salad plates. It was a non-verbal way of asking, "How do I hit that?" I was so thrilled that our plan was working. But my joy was short-lived because the umpire immediately called me to come onto the field. In my haste, I failed to tell my catcher that we had a plan to throw super fastballs to certain players. And she, unsuccessfully, was forced to corral a "screaming Mimi". She hadn't prepared to do so. She didn't know it was coming. The ball ricocheted off her left knee, after the umpire called "Strike!" It took us a few minutes to find someone willing to stand behind home plate after that pitch. Let's just say that there was no line forming under the "Volunteer" sign.

Eventually, we found another girl willing to play catcher. The other team's best player never hit the ball that day. Nor did any of their other "big sticks". The final score: 9 to 2. League champions...tournament champions. Who da thunk?

That was a special group of girls...all champions in my book. That was a special group of parents...all supportive. Most of those girls probably don't remember how special that team was because they were so young. But when I see any of them today, I think, "There goes a champion!" You know, it ain't bragging if you done it.


Accepting the award as a team.
I'm wearing the red hat.


Check out the bandaged left knee
of the 2nd player from the left.
Her knee "caught" the first super-pitch.
She received a game ball that day.