Playing, not competing, is the key at LLWS

Here at Oberlin, sports sometimes get knocked on. In fact, some people hold an opinion about sports in general close to that of David Spade's character in PCU-"there are no winners, 'cause they're all losers." But travel with me for a minute to a little town in Pennsylvania and see if I can't convince you that sports and SPORTS don't have to be synonymous, that competition and big egos can easily take a back seat to fun.

Last Saturday, 42,000 fans crammed the bleachers and stood beyond the outfield fences to watch a baseball game. But wait, you say to yourself, that fact is far too mundane not to be followed by some slight twist on the ordinary. Well, there are two twists, actually: first, the population of those stands was approximately ten-thousand people more than the population of the town where the stands were located-namely Williamsport, PA. Secondly, it wasn't Griffey and The Rocket packing them in, but Kyle Tidwell and Masato Ikeda. Little leaguers playing other little leaguers from places they had only read about in school.

Remember little league? Or AYSO? Softball teams, or rec league basketball? Probably just a summer time diversion for many, or perhaps the weekend games during the school year. Maybe you didn't play, but I know everyone had to have a friend or a sibling they watched and cheered for even if you didn't understand the rules. If you did play, maybe you even went to some sort of championships, playing a team from some far off land such as the next county.

The Williamsport tournament is the granddaddy of all those championships. Every year, a world series-world in a real sense of the word-is held when the champions from four regional U.S. tournaments and those from four world regions where baseball is most prevalent, face off in a week of games.

Since it started back in 1947, thirty-five states and 21 countries have sent teams to the Little League World Series. At first, 'world' series was nowhere close to appropriate with seven teams from Pennsylvania and one from New Jersey making up the field. But in that August a half century behind us, an August that featured Mayard, PA beating Brandon, PA 10-4, the seeds of something great were planted.

Within a year, New York, Florida, Connecticut and Virginia had joined up to be followed soon by Michigan, Texas, California and so on. In 1957 Latin America joined the fray. A year later Canada and the Pacific region-mainly Hawaii and the Phillipines- were introduced. 1960 was the year of Europe. Taiwan and Japan would join as the Pacific became the Far East and the next thing you know eighteen kids who don't speak the same language are laughing and knocking a ball around the park.

The tournament even has the drama of close games-Phoenix City, Alabama put itself on the map, albeit briefly, as it battled back from a 2-0 hole in the U.S. championship game to eventual defeat defending champ Tom's River, New Jersey 3-2.

But let's scratch the stats for a while and concentrate on the point of this whole experience: the fact that the stats didn't matter. Ramstein, Germany and Brownsburg, Indiana lost every game they played in the tournament. Have you even heard of Brownsburg? Did the kids really care? Well, yeah no one likes to lose everything, but they were on national television for pete's sake! They were having a blast swapping jerseys with the teams from the rest of the world and happy in the knowledge that they were one of the top teams in the nation.

Look at the Canadian team who, already mathematically eliminated from advancing, played for pride and didn't let the defeats mar team spirit. When one player made a throwing error that threatened the lead his teammates didn't get upset or let the frustration lead them to snapping at him, but gathered around, said 'don't worry!' and stuck together for the win.

Even the team from Phoenix City who lost perhaps the biggest game of their young careers didn't bother to think of it that way. They went home with the title of United States Champions and their heads held high. Where do you see a scene at a championship game like this: they teams shook hands before the game and after. They danced together to pre-game music and had a good time just being around one another.

Writers have often referred to professional baseball players as a bunch of grown men playing a child's game. In Williamsport, the kids get a chance to take back that sport for a while. Here, for eight days in August, there isn't a single loser. Every last kid, parent, friend, coach, and official, win.