Eye On Illinois: For Father’s Day, a salute to my fellow baseball dads

By the time you read this, chances are good my family will be southbound on Interstate 65 en route to Pigeon Forge, Tennessee, for a weeklong baseball tournament.

I’m not sure how many of the 35 other teams of 12-year-old ballplayers are riding an eight-game winning streak, but I know I’m legitimately excited to spend several days in the Smoky Mountains with the extended baseball family we’ve come to know and love over several summers.

In Illinois, June is for baseball. Camp days at the high school. Practice and league games on weeknights. Weekend tournaments in every suburb imaginable, sometimes Wisconsin. For the extra involved, there’s coaching, umpiring, field work, flipping burgers at the concession stand, running the scoreboard and the GameChanger app.

Most families have at least one adult focused on logistics so each kid can get a ride to and from every event. I dare anyone to find a drive-through that doesn’t have at least one minivan chock-full of enough hungry mouths to take down every last chicken nugget. It’s a literal team effort for everyone, from the dugout to the bleachers.

On Father’s Day weekend, though, I’m reflecting on my fellow dads. The varsity coach who works with kids for free because he loves the game. The former college pitchers who pass on wisdom without losing perspective. The tech dudes who set up the livestream for grandmothers across the country. The nervous nail-biters who see their boy on the mound and go stand under an outfield tree. The self-conscious types who mutter “keep it in front of you!” under their breath so no one thinks they’re a bleacher coach. The guys who grew up playing soccer or swimming and need an explainer on the infield fly rule.

As an umpire and – this year, begrudgingly – a 9U travel coach myself, I encounter all sorts of dads. A few hope to recapture glory days, but most simply love our kids and want to encourage their passion. When we volunteer for an official capacity, it’s to have an extra level of comfort they’ll be safe, supported and surrounded by people who breathe baseball while understanding it’s just one tiny part of a well-lived life.

—  Scott T. Holland

Not all sports dads are fun to be around, so we consider ourselves incredibly lucky. At the Iowa tournament last June my mother-in-law remarked how she watched five games and never once heard an adult from our team’s dugout yell, while across the diamond were many men who seemed to completely lack an inner monologue or a volume knob.

As an umpire and – this year, begrudgingly – a 9U travel coach myself, I encounter all sorts of dads. A few hope to recapture glory days, but most simply love our kids and want to encourage their passion. When we volunteer for an official capacity, it’s to have an extra level of comfort they’ll be safe, supported and surrounded by people who breathe baseball while understanding it’s just one tiny part of a well-lived life.

To those dads, role models to our kids, sacrificing time with your own partners and children to invite us all into one big baseball family, “thank you” will never be enough.

• Scott T. Holland writes about state government issues for Shaw Media. Follow him on Twitter @sth749. He can be reached at sholland@shawmedia.com.