Little Leaguers don't need prime-time pressure

By Shaun Powell

There's no threat of a strike, no sign of .200 hitters making $8 million, just a bus full of giggling boys headed to Williamsport, Pa., after a quick stop at McDonald's. Harlem will play in the Little League World Series, ensuring a heartwarming baseball story for New York this year.

That's the hope, anyway.

What's not to like? By winning 14 of 16 games and safely advancing through the state, district and regional tournaments, a dozen boys earned a temporary escape from the sometimes harsh realities of their neighborhood. Does anyone in America deserve a break more than these kids? They'll stay in hotels, go to parks and museums, meet kids from across America, catch a movie or two and dream about winning it all. Those are the perks of reaching the World Series, which once stood as a symbol of innocence before being tainted by two very unwelcome intrusions: national TV and sneaky adults.

Working almost as unwitting partners, grown-ups and TV have managed to screw up a good thing. The World Series used to be a kid's domain, like a basement with a do-not-disturb sign scribbled outside the door. Not anymore. Now it's ruled by parents and coaches who'll do almost anything to get Junior to Williamsport; and TV, which puts games in prime time and eagerly shows us the "heroes" and "goats."

Already, the baggage Harlem took on the road Wednesday went beyond bats and balls. A close inspection of the roster by Newsday found boys who claimed Harlem as their home but lived elsewhere. A team with non-residents is just as illegal as one with teen-agers, and it makes you wonder: What in the name of Danny Almonte is going on here?

Here's what: The World Series has gotten so big and prestigious that some adults can't control themselves. A good many parents and Little League coaches play by the rules, only to be one-upped by the crooked ones. They know Little League can't possibly police thousands of teams. So guess who's in charge of monitoring? Yep, parents and coaches. There's an honor system in place, and yet the spirit of the code is often violated by adults fixated on having a winning team. In other words, this is some example they're setting.

So for the next few days, instead of enjoying the journey and focusing on the prize, Harlem must fend off accusations of dishonesty. A wonderful experience could take a sour turn for a bunch of kids who only want to play ball. The us-against-the-world bunker mentality, a misplaced tactic used by insecure pro players, will now drift to the innocent. And that's exactly what the kids are in many cases. They're puppets being used by adults living out some sort of post-adolescent fantasy.

It's too bad the Harlem kids arrived in Williamsport with issues, because they play baseball with passion and joy. This was evident Tuesday night when they rallied from four runs down to beat Lehigh Little League of Bethlehem, Pa., in a game that gave prime-time thrills but hardly deserved a prime-time slot.

Ask yourself: Would you allow your 11-year-old to play outside past 10:30 at night? Well, the Harlem-Lehigh game didn't end until 10:42, more than 30 minutes after the Mets-Padres game finished. Little Leaguers at home couldn't stay up long enough to see Little Leaguers on TV.

The Harlem game began at 8 p.m. because ESPN had a programming hole. It has come to this: TV is dictating Little League starting times, pushing it past bedtimes. A funny moment came when the Lehigh center fielder dropped a fly ball. Harold Reynolds, the commentator, suggested the kid wasn't used to playing under the lights.

Sunlight, yes. Spotlight, no.

Then Reynolds and Jack Edwards, the play-by-play announcer, debated whether boys should learn to throw anything but fastballs at a young age. Edwards said it's probably wise to develop physically first before throwing breaking balls, "but then they watch ESPN and all the pressure to get to the Little League World Series, and it's hard to resist."

Yeah, these kids are so smitten by what they see on TV, you know, they'll do almost anything.

Sorry, but the only audience a Little Leaguer needs is his family and the community. He doesn't need the additional pressure of performing on national TV. We don't need to see sobs or mistakes. We don't need to know who "blew" the game. Even in victory, 12-year-olds are turned into instant celebrities because of TV. It just isn't healthy.

Here's hoping the resourceful Harlem kids bring home the trophy.

But is it possible to leave some parents and TV behind?

Shaun Powell is a sports columnist for Newsday.