A note from the commissioner
As we near the end of the regular season, I wanted to send some words that I hope will be heard and inspiring.
Think back to the early years. 1997 is when the seed was planted. We played Little League ball that year and we loved the game so much, that there was a group of seven or eight people that wanted to hit the ball around even on off days.
A year later, you could start to feel the love of the game slipping as Little Leaguers entered their late teens.
However, there were a select few that still had a burning desire. I would call these people and, at most, 14 of us would meet at Saukie to hit some balls and play a rough game.
The following Little League season was the worst I'd experience. We cancelled games, not for rain, but rather because people didn't want to play. This was an "organized," sponsored league that couldn't field nine players.
For me, it was difficult to fathom the fact that we were shorthanded. Once we drove all the way to LaSalle Peru, only to turn back around.
That year, disappointed with the lack of interest, I pondered why getting enough people together was so difficult. I came to the conclusion. The league didn't have an all-welcoming nature.
Pitchers threw hard, egos were rampant, people complained, and some people weren't very good and had to deal with the negative words of others.
We set out to change that...and we did. What was a modest crew in 1997 and 1998, expanded greatly in 1999.
The roots of the league were taking. These were no standout ballplayers; this was a group of friends. This was a group of kids that refused to "grow up," that bucked the norm of reality, and played each day for fun. This was a group of people that might have been afraid of the ball in Little League, made errors every game, struck out. This was a group that showed up at the park each day, lifted each others' spirits, said "don't worry about it" when an error was made and "nice play" on a tough catch. This... was Veto League Baseball.
We've grown, we've matured, we've aged, but we're still here. We refuse to stop playing a "boys game" and refuse to start playing softball. We play until it hurts, until we're parched and exhausted. But we show up again the next day. We have had over 230 people play in this league, nearly all from the league's original roots--the kid that doesn't hit very well or doesn't field very well, but loves the game and gives it all.
We have built something. We have records, stats, and stories for a lifetime. We have an opportunity to keep doing something we love with no foreseeable end.
But we must keep in mind how far many of us have come. It seems strange to consider it, but many people in this league have improved their skills by playing in a sandlot baseball league. Bear in mind that Veto League is still growing in numbers. Each game there is a new face. Many of these faces are mirror images of our beginnings. These faces are being thrown into the fire, untested in this league, with no idea what to expect, with no sense of what this game is all about.
So, while we've grown in competitiveness, we must not stray from the character of this league, the meaning of this game. It's fun. It's friendship. We must continue to open the doors to newcomers, embrace their presence and set an example. No matter new member or old, we need to continue to foster the values of the league. When an error is made, pick them up. When someone strikes out, pick them up. When disputes happen, solve them peacefully.
I love this game and I love this league. I'm not alone when I say I'll play two games every day. We're sitting on the fountain of youth, though not physically, but mentally and emotionally. We have something very, very unique happening here, something I've never heard of anywhere else. For two hours, we are blessed with the opportunity to be a kid, to play a game, to leave our life's worries outside the baselines. Let yourself go. I'm happy to lead this group onto the field each week, and I'll follow when you are showing the way.
Each step I take towards center field, I smile inside. Live the spirit of the VLB...and pass it on.
As we near the end of the regular season, I wanted to send some words that I hope will be heard and inspiring.
Think back to the early years. 1997 is when the seed was planted. We played Little League ball that year and we loved the game so much, that there was a group of seven or eight people that wanted to hit the ball around even on off days.
A year later, you could start to feel the love of the game slipping as Little Leaguers entered their late teens.
However, there were a select few that still had a burning desire. I would call these people and, at most, 14 of us would meet at Saukie to hit some balls and play a rough game.
The following Little League season was the worst I'd experience. We cancelled games, not for rain, but rather because people didn't want to play. This was an "organized," sponsored league that couldn't field nine players.
For me, it was difficult to fathom the fact that we were shorthanded. Once we drove all the way to LaSalle Peru, only to turn back around.
That year, disappointed with the lack of interest, I pondered why getting enough people together was so difficult. I came to the conclusion. The league didn't have an all-welcoming nature.
Pitchers threw hard, egos were rampant, people complained, and some people weren't very good and had to deal with the negative words of others.
We set out to change that...and we did. What was a modest crew in 1997 and 1998, expanded greatly in 1999.
The roots of the league were taking. These were no standout ballplayers; this was a group of friends. This was a group of kids that refused to "grow up," that bucked the norm of reality, and played each day for fun. This was a group of people that might have been afraid of the ball in Little League, made errors every game, struck out. This was a group that showed up at the park each day, lifted each others' spirits, said "don't worry about it" when an error was made and "nice play" on a tough catch. This... was Veto League Baseball.
We've grown, we've matured, we've aged, but we're still here. We refuse to stop playing a "boys game" and refuse to start playing softball. We play until it hurts, until we're parched and exhausted. But we show up again the next day. We have had over 230 people play in this league, nearly all from the league's original roots--the kid that doesn't hit very well or doesn't field very well, but loves the game and gives it all.
We have built something. We have records, stats, and stories for a lifetime. We have an opportunity to keep doing something we love with no foreseeable end.
But we must keep in mind how far many of us have come. It seems strange to consider it, but many people in this league have improved their skills by playing in a sandlot baseball league. Bear in mind that Veto League is still growing in numbers. Each game there is a new face. Many of these faces are mirror images of our beginnings. These faces are being thrown into the fire, untested in this league, with no idea what to expect, with no sense of what this game is all about.
So, while we've grown in competitiveness, we must not stray from the character of this league, the meaning of this game. It's fun. It's friendship. We must continue to open the doors to newcomers, embrace their presence and set an example. No matter new member or old, we need to continue to foster the values of the league. When an error is made, pick them up. When someone strikes out, pick them up. When disputes happen, solve them peacefully.
I love this game and I love this league. I'm not alone when I say I'll play two games every day. We're sitting on the fountain of youth, though not physically, but mentally and emotionally. We have something very, very unique happening here, something I've never heard of anywhere else. For two hours, we are blessed with the opportunity to be a kid, to play a game, to leave our life's worries outside the baselines. Let yourself go. I'm happy to lead this group onto the field each week, and I'll follow when you are showing the way.
Each step I take towards center field, I smile inside. Live the spirit of the VLB...and pass it on.