Or The Phrase That Inspired A Mantra
The audio version of this story is below.
“Football (or in our case baseball), lessons we learn as kids, continue to apply through the rest of your life. Life is a team game – it’s the big game” ~ ‘Broadway’ Joe Namath
It’s the morning after. My head is pounding. I’m sporting quite the farmer’s tan – or a fire brick red for us gingers. I’m beyond exhausted, my voice is hoarse, and the waterworks flow freely anytime I think of specific moments from this weekend past, including the tears of joy looking back at me from across the final team huddle of the season.
It’s hard to believe that opening night was way back in May. It’s a long baseball season in general from player evaluations on a cold and windy April Saturday morning, to first practices commencing mid-May.
For the 2024 Senior Marlins, evaluation day was when our season truly started to take shape, although we wouldn’t know it for many weeks to come. There were a couple of new kids at the park that I noticed throwing the ball around with friends after evaluations were over, and there was something about the chemistry of those moments that inspired me to make a mental note of their names after I chatted with them.
Our late April draft night’s and the preparation leading up to it is both fun and stressful – especially when you have been at the park for as long as I have. Over the past decade-plus, I have coached many of these kids and I wish I could choose them all. I remember thinking that after a heartbreaking loss in the championship last year, how great it would be to have that same team again. That’s not how drafts work however and for fairness in sport, it’s a good thing.
In the end, new coaches to the park snagged up four of our players from last year and although I missed being their coach this season, the eight games we ended up playing against them were among the most memorable moments of the summer of 2024.
The season kicked off with a loss to the same team hosting our former teammates and friends, in a close and fun matchup that would set the tone for the next four months. From there, our crew went on a bit of a winning streak that grew the team’s morale, only to take a step backward with an even longer losing streak. Looking back, I feel like this is when the true character of this team started to take form.
At two wins and four losses, something started to happen. It began with a double-header sweep, that turned into five straight wins, inspired by a little music, and a sudden utterance of Kool-Aid Man-esque ‘Oh Yeah’s’ during big plays throughout the double-header, that sparked what would become a mantra of sorts for this Marlins team.
See, one of these new kids would say ‘Oh yeah’ – more as a quiet response to a great play, which the team ran with and turned into a bellowing cheer mimicking those 80’s Kool Aid commercials, where the Kool Aid jug breaks through a wall boasting this famous phrase.
Between the electricity of this cheer and the pre-game music pumping up our players that night, our team showed the earliest signs of something magical afloat. Confidence was building, fun was brewing and a tight connection was bringing it all together. The kid who couldn’t catch to save their life, that night was a shining star. They were stealing bases like nobody’s business. The home runs and base hits were plenty, and the infield and outfield plays were the highlight reels in the heads of all those watching. Before this night, I knew something had to start clicking with this team and then suddenly it all came together.
Our family left for vacation after that thrilling turn of events for our team, and although we needed this escape, I was sad to leave at this moment, when magic and newfound hope were emanating from our team.
Game nights when we are away, start early in the morning when I do roll calls before putting together the lineups, and I don’t rest until that final score comes through mid-evening. The first week we were away, we were back to the top of the schedule where our season began. We had yet to beat the A’s and I knew this was a key matchup for our Marlins with playoffs just around the corner. We won a close one that night and although I was excited that the kids were able to see that they could beat this team, what inspired me most was what happened off the field. I was told that as the game on the opposing diamond ended, players from the other squads could be heard chanting ‘Oh Yeah!’ on their way past. The exuberance of this team was catching on.
The result of the second game that we were away for also resulted in a check in the win column, and I couldn’t be happier to return to practice and hear all about it from the players and our coaching staff. Now, we not only had one more night of baseball before the playoffs, but another rained-out game meant we were finishing the season with a doubleheader.
Although we secured a win in the first of our two games that last week of the season, the team just didn’t have that same spark that had boosted them through the past month, so to say I wasn’t a little worried, was an understatement. On the other hand, maybe it was just the gloomy weather but either way, I felt better about a team that had faced adversity on the path to final victory, than one that met the last game unscathed, believing they were invincible.
At the beginning of each year, I tell my team that if their only goal is to win a championship, they are here for the wrong reasons. It’s okay to want to win and we should set our sights high, but we sign up for baseball to have fun most of all. To learn, to grow, and come out the other end of the season a better person, a more skilled player, and with fond and lasting memories on and off the diamond.
I have either played or coached sports all of my life from hockey, baseball, and football so believe me, I know how rewarding getting that final win of the season is, but I also know the crushing feeling of defeat. I like to win too and as a coach, nothing gives me greater joy than to see these kids’ excitement after a victory, but only one team can come out on top and therefore we must discover joy in losing too. To look at individual efforts, the positive strides we have made, and the fun we had giving it our all with our teammates. We must find the thrill in all the little things that make up each season on the diamonds and around the park.
As a player, I enjoyed my fair share of Super Saturday, City, and tournament victories, but I also know what it’s like to look across the ice or the field as the other team tossed their arms and gear in the air as victory was secured. Beyond the initial tears though, I also recollect seeing my friends across the way celebrating and during those final handshakes, hugging them and congratulating them and feeling happy for them too.
As a coach, my teams have known the agony of loss in a championship game and I hope I have taught them to lose with grace, love, and respect. Players and parents have made sure over the years, that I have known that I’ve made a difference, and the honour of families asking to be on your team means a great deal to me. It helps you realize that you are doing something right and that the hard work and dedication you put into each season, means more to them than a championship win.
In the days leading up to our weekend finals tournament – the first of its kind in a best-out-of-three championship format – I wanted to create as many opportunities as I could for our kids to get together outside of their work, Select, or other commitments.
On Monday, the team practiced for a good two-and-a-half hours. These kids would catch pop flies until they were hit in the head in the dark of night. The love for baseball – even if it’s not their first sport – was obvious, whether it was staying even after I took my balls and went home, continuing to play with their friends and teammates, or being at the park 45 minutes to an hour before the game, tossing the ball around to warm up.
On Wednesday, a handful of us headed to the batting cages and enjoyed some food and ice cream, and then on Friday, we had a good showing for a fun game against adult Orange which was unfortunately cut short due to rain.
The big day was here, and our first matchup of the morning was versus the A’s who would finish first, while we would come in second in the regular season standings. This would be the first time all year that we would get a full seven innings in, which meant we would have to stave off their long ball hitters in an open final frame.
The park was packed and the feeling was electric for our 9 AM tilt, and our Marlins came ready and eager to take their fate into their own hands right from the onset of what promised to be a memorable, albeit long, weekend. A win would secure us a spot in the finals, and a loss meant we would have to battle it out in another lengthy and intense game early afternoon.
Most of our Marlins were at the park bright and early, with the music pumping, and already out in the field practicing when I arrived which in turn, motivated me out of my sleepy-eyed trance. When everyone arrived, we did some running drills much to the chagrin of those that are not early risers, but it brought us close, got the blood flowing, and we started our pre-game chat early to ensure we were not going to be cut short by the umpires call for ‘coaches – captains’.
Our kids proved all morning long that the five-game winning streak that we had going through the end of the season was not a fluke, and from that first pitch, they didn’t look back. Our team was on fire right from ‘play ball’, and we got a jump on them fast and early and set a tone for the rest of the game from there. We were loud, cheering one another on, and unstoppable. Then, the open seventh inning came with us up by double-digit numbers. Slowly, the A’s started to chip away at our lead but then tears filled my eyes as Mr. ‘Oh Yeah’ got that final strikeout to stop the bleeding and scrape us out a win. I hadn’t seen the gang as excited as they were in that moment and of course, I had yet to personally witness them beating the A’s so it was bittersweet on this basis alone. The victory meant that all that was left of our day was a fun game versus the Yankees with whom we had split our regular season series two games apiece.
Sunday was an even earlier start, with game one of the best-of-three championships scheduled for 8 AM. Once again, much of the team was there before their scheduled warmups tossing the ball around.
As we huddled in left field moments before our scheduled start time, I asked those that have known final victory to share what they thought was the recipe for weathering the storm of a long, hard-fought playoff, and then addressed those who knew the angst of ‘almost’. For the kids I’ve coached – including my own girls – I wanted them to finally feel the pure exuberance of winning it all. I feel like every child should, although we know even professionals often battle through a 30-year career without that taste of sipping from a Champions Cup.
Once again, these relentless Marlins came out of the gate firing on all cylinders, and carried that momentum into that final frame, leveraging the home-field advantage we had secured by winning game one on Saturday and shutting them down in the seventh to take a 28 to 15 victory into game two.
The emotions exploded within me after that third-out strike, with this being the first championship game I had won as a coach. Ironically, this was also the first year our finals would be a best-of-three series.
Spirits were through the roof as we took a twenty-minute break and at the huddle before game two, we talked about how that final win on the road to hoisting that championship trophy, was the most difficult of all. The pressure was on our opponent. We had jumped on the opportunity to secure first place for the remainder of the playoffs the morning before, and now we had won game one to give ourselves two chances to end our season as victors.
The A’s came out like a rocket blast and were up by ten early, but we shut them down in the last four frames, allowing only one run. However, they stopped us in the top of the seventh to secure a 13 to 5 victory. Early frustrations started to mount, tempers flared, and teammates were getting frustrated with one another, but we were able to settle things down and find hope again mid-game, thanks to the leadership of our older players who had a way to settle their peers down and find belief within themselves again. In the end, there couldn’t be a better way to finish our season than to play these A’s a record seven times in one season, to cap off an intense but thrilling series against four of our former teammates.
After another short break, we huddled one last time on a high, because we had played extremely well at the end of game two and felt that momentum was in our favour. For this chat, I let the kids take over, and they discussed a few things that we needed to do to finish what we started, including simply believing in ourselves.
Game three was close throughout and more defensive than our previous three matches this weekend. As had been a common occurrence throughout the tournament, I could be seen pacing around the bench and next to third base when we were at bat. I wanted this for these kids. They deserved it. It was also time for those who had been patient over many years, to finally shed tears of joy, rather than heartbreak in the final moments of our season.
There were a few fumbles in game 3, but otherwise, these kids were on fire. From smart base running to one player taking matters into his own hands and getting all three outs in one inning, you could see the determination on that diamond and in the dugout to take those A’s down. We were getting hits from those who needed to get their bats going, and players were taking selfless walks where I knew our long-ballers desperately wanted to knock one out of the park. In these final games, I started to talk about how a walk was a home run because all season, we were stealing bases with confidence, and overall our base running was smart and exciting. All they needed to do was get to first, and their fleet footedness and baseball smarts took over from there.
It was the top of the seventh once again. We had played 29 long innings of ball thus far. We’d scored 87 runs and allowed 72. Batters up with two outs was a strength of ours offensively and on defense, we had left our opponents with bases loaded on more than one occasion. Adversity barely phased them. They believed in themselves and that they could overcome anything. We knew our play against this team would be back and forth all weekend and it certainly was and for the most part, they just accepted and rolled with it.
Top of the seventh. We were up 16 to 11 and the A’s were up to bat. We were three outs away from victory.
One on base. Two outs. Runners were now at one and two. We needed one more out. Two strikes. Then, it happened. A two-strike pitch … the batter makes a connection, and it lands in the glove of our pitcher. I paused for a moment. It didn’t hit me right away, but then the waterworks started, my arms raised, and the cheers from the field and the bench were everything I had hoped these kids would get to experience at the end of it all.
Twelve regular season games including two double-headers. Fourteen practices, two trips to the batting cages, a fun game against the adults, staying until the lights came on each week catching pop flies, at the diamonds well before the games began, eleven wins, six losses, and a heck of a lot of Oh Yeah’s!
I was hugging everybody and when the trophy was handed to me, I found myself not knowing what to do with it, so I walked down the line of players and let everyone touch it, before we snapped team photos and the kids took a moment to capture memories with the trophy as individuals and in groups.
Ironically, it had been the first time in a while that we had all been together with vacations, work schedules, and such, so it was the perfect time to finally take a photo of our complete 13-player roster, in the highest of spirits.
We gathered afterward at third base one last time. A few game balls were handed out and there will be more when we have our end-of-season party. We talked about all of the work and sacrifices it took to get to this point. The tears looking back at me made it hard not to get highly emotional but finally, after eleven years (it would have been twelve if not for COVID), of coaching at Scott Park in every division, these were faces, at long last, of final victory smiling back at me.
That circle, surrounded by parents, caregivers, and other family members and friends, will not be a moment that I will soon forget. These kids worked hard. We had a great turnout at practice each week. There was a chemistry and electricity to these kids that I hadn’t previously seen – a strong sense of family within this group. My eyes welled up thinking about all of this as I prepared the weekend lineups Friday evening, and I fell asleep with a certain confidence that this was our year.
Many of the kids stayed around afterward, signing one another’s jerseys, smiling, laughing, and reveling in this moment. I was sad when the last kid left the park, signaling the end of my most memorable weekend at Scott Park baseball.
Every year I say there won’t be another team like the one before and it’s true. Every squad has had a certain wonder about it, but how can that first victory and the kids that came together to make it all happen, not forever hold a special place in my heart?
One of my former players said to me with a sly smile while we were talking by the canteen after our medals had been handed out, that he was going to beat me next year. Challenge accepted. I love these kids.
It was hard seeing the tears on the other side of the diamond after our victory. I know what it’s like as a player and a coach. I also love that they can come over, congratulate you, tell you that you guys deserved it, and find a smile beyond the heartbreak. After all, these kids have either played together or as opponents over many years, and I personally have coached so many of these youth as well. I want them all to know this feeling of victory, and for their time at our park to be a memorable and rewarding experience.
Before our first game this weekend, I told the kids about a video I had saw where a coach talks about drawing a ‘Reset’ button on the inside of your ball cap and when you make a mistake on a play or you are losing focus or confidence throughout the game, to take off your hat, press the reset button, and tell yourself that you want the next play. ‘I’ll make that catch or hit or play next time.” On many occasions over the past few days, I saw hats being taken off. They also started calling the button at the top of their ball caps ‘Smarties’, and told one another to press their smarty when things weren’t going our way. Amazing!
These kids were going to leave the park Sunday champions no matter what because of their spirit, the way they carried themselves on and off the field, and because a champion is an attitude and they had all the right ingredients for that title regardless of the final score. Their resilience and belief in themselves – that was what turned that champion attitude, into being crowned the 2024 Scott Park Senior Softball Champions.
Okay Marlins, on three – 1, 2,3 Oh Yeah!.
Perhaps it’s just a game, but life isn’t. These lessons our kids learn about being part of a team, working together towards a joint end goal, building friendships, overcoming obstacles, dealing with heartbreak and adversity with love and respect, the joy and reward in giving life their all, and the importance of being part of a broader community, that’s what this game is truly all about.
The above images combined, show our group yelling ‘Oh’ and ‘Yeah!’
A special thank you to Jen for dawning the coaching jersey with me this summer and for bringing snacks and music and coaching the kids to victory while we were away. A huge thank you to my wife Tara for all of her support and encouragement over the years, for always being my biggest cheerleader, and for keeping score each game. Thank you to Fred who would come early to rake diamonds in the rain so our kids could play, ran back to the canteen on multiple occasions for base pegs, keys, hammers, or other supplies needed through the games, and hit pop flies to the kiddos every Monday night until his hands were literally blistered. Thanks to the parents for their support, for ensuring the kids were at practices and games throughout the summer, and for being there to cheer their loved ones on. Lastly, thank you most of all to this team for inspiring me every step of the way this year. It brought me great joy to see you further develop into the champions that I saw on that draft sheet from day one. It’s been an honour and a privilege to coach you all this season.