I’m sure the idea of “negative attention” is a very old one for school teachers, and perhaps many parents, but as a baseball coach, I first learned this a few years ago when I was conducting batting drills with one of my players. Here’s the story.
One day when one of my assistant coaches was running fielding drills with the team in the main field, I decided I would pull one kid at a time to work on hitting. Each kid would hit 10 balls from a T into a chain link fence, and I would work with him or her on the proper stance and swing. I told them that they each would “get to hit 10 balls cleanly from the T.”
When it came time for my best hitter to take his swings, he appeared to be in a deep baseball funk. His bat struck the T time after time. He couldn’t seem to get his swing right. His feet were in the wrong position. His bat wasn’t even coming close to the ball. I was stunned. In the games, this was my best hitter…by far. Why was my coaching making him worse? After spending 10-15 minutes with this one kid (all the others averaged about 3-4 minutes), I told him that I was going to have to move on to the next batter. I gave him three more swings, but “Even if you hit the T,” I told him, “I need to move on.”
BAM! BAM! BAM! Three of the best hits from anyone all day.
I’m not sure whether he was conscious of it or not, but he obviously had been playing me for the extra attention. Looking back on it, it was almost sweet. This terrific 7 year old kid, who didn’t have a father at home, had been messing up to get extra time at the plate…and extra time with the coach.
It’s a lesson I’ve tried to remember.
This year, at the very last game, I assigned the kids’ their fielding positions for the inning (in T-Ball, we rotate positions every inning) , and I asked them to run out to their positions after we counted to three. “1-2-3, Angels!” All of the kids ran out but one girl lingered behind…and told me that she didn’t know where shortstop was. Could I please take her there? I was sure she was seeking attention, so I told her that if she didn’t know where shortstop was, after an entire season of 12 games, she needed to stay in the dugout. She ran straight to shortstop.
What’s the lesson here? What these experiences have taught me is that the kids really crave attention from the coaches. And while each of the coaches with whom I have ever worked has been happy to give that attention, it’s important to give it at the right time and not at the expense of the other kids. When my best hitter wanted extra hitting attention, I asked his mother to bring him to practice early, or stay with him late after practice, so we could work a bit one on one. And I heaped praise on my lost shortstop after she came in from the field. I’ve tried to listen to what the kids are really saying though, despite what their words might suggest.
This post sponsored by sailmodel.com.