The Adults Have Turned the Little League World Series Into a Mess

Growing up, I absolutely sucked at Little League.

I was the kid wearing sneakers when everyone else had cleats. I believe I led the league in strikeouts and walks in two of my three seasons, which is an impressive combination when you think about it. I was terrified to swing the bat, couldn’t see particularly well and didn’t possess anything resembling power.

Basically, I was never destined for Williamsport.

The kids competing for that opportunity today are different. They’ve spent years practicing, playing and dreaming about reaching the Little League World Series.

And that’s why the absolute debacle surrounding Tulsa National bothers me so much.

This should be about the kids.

Instead, we’re talking about eligibility protests, forfeitures, tournament committees, court orders and lawyers.

Little League International removed Tulsa National from the Southwest Region Tournament after determining that a player who participated during the International Tournament was ineligible. Tulsa’s previous game was declared a forfeit, setting up Texas West representative Boerne Little League against Louisiana’s Ascension Parish for the regional championship.

Boerne won 4-1.

Video: KSAT 12 / YouTube

Imagine being those kids.

You play what everyone understands to be the championship game. You win. You celebrate. You’re going to Williamsport.

Except suddenly, you’re not quite sure.

Tulsa challenged its removal in court, and a Texas judge granted a temporary restraining order that put Tulsa back into the championship picture and created the possibility of another game against Boerne.

Now consider the competitive problem this creates.

Boerne had just played a game it believed was the regional championship and necessarily used pitching to win it. Tulsa, meanwhile, hadn’t played that game.

Forget for a moment whether you’re rooting for Oklahoma or Texas. How is that an ideal situation for either group of children?

And that’s the part that keeps bothering me.

What are the adults doing to these kids?

Little League controversies aren’t new.

Jackie Robinson West captured America’s attention during its remarkable run to the U.S. championship in 2014, only to have those tournament victories stripped the following year after Little League determined boundaries had been improperly altered.

I also remember Danny Almonte.

Being from the New York area, Almonte was enormous news in 2001. He looked practically unhittable pitching for the Rolando Paulino Little League team from the Bronx.

There turned out to be a reason.

Almonte was 14 years old, not 12.

Once again, kids who had worked and competed found their accomplishments buried underneath decisions made by adults.

Twenty-five years later, we’re still doing this.

That’s what frustrates me about Tulsa.

I’m not blaming the children on that roster. They’re Little Leaguers. They showed up to play baseball. Likewise, the kids from Boerne shouldn’t have to understand temporary restraining orders to know whether they’ve earned a trip to Williamsport.

The adults are supposed to make sure the rules are followed so the children can simply play.

Instead, we’re asking children to absorb the consequences when that system breaks down.

There’s also an important distinction in the current situation. A judge granting temporary relief to Tulsa is not the same thing as a court deciding that Little League’s underlying eligibility determination was wrong. Those legal questions can continue to be fought by adults.

But tournaments don’t exist in suspended animation.

Pitchers need rest. Games have to be scheduled. Families travel. Teams celebrate wins and process losses. Eventually somebody has to represent the Southwest Region in Williamsport.

That’s why this situation has become such a mess.

If Boerne ultimately advances, this entire episode becomes a bizarre footnote to its journey.

If Tulsa ultimately advances, the questions become even louder.

Either way, somebody needs to remember the people standing in the middle of all this aren’t attorneys, tournament administrators or executives.

They’re children.

Kids shouldn’t have to wonder whether winning a championship game actually means they won a championship. They shouldn’t have accomplishments erased because an adult didn’t follow eligibility rules. And they shouldn’t have to become collateral damage in disputes they had absolutely nothing to do with creating.

Sports are supposed to teach children about teamwork, discipline, handling defeat and earning success.

So what lesson are we teaching here?

That’s what worries me far more than which team ultimately gets on the plane to Pennsylvania.

Maybe I’m looking at this too simply.

Then again, I was never particularly good at Little League.

I was just a kid who wanted to play baseball.

And ultimately, that’s exactly what these kids should be allowed to be.