Prognosticating does youngsters no favors
They’re in the stands at high school and college baseball games. Holding radar guns and stop watches, they’re there eyeing the potential of the players, projecting who will succeed at the next level.
But really, who knows?
They’re in the stands at high school and select basketball games. Wearing polo shirts with their school’s insignia and taking copious notes, they’re there eyeing the potential of the players, projecting who will succeed at the next level.
But really, who knows?
They’re in the stands at youth games. Standing alone until they are noticed by a parent or two, they’re there showing the colors of their high school and eyeing the potential of the players, projecting who will succeed at the next level.
But, especially in this case, who knows?
The top two examples are old as the hills. The third, that’s newer and more troubling.
But it’s happening more and more. Often times the motives are noble – showing the kids in a high school’s district they are important to the school’s coaches – but there’s an offshoot that stinks.
If the Mariners pick a player in the first round and give him $10 million to sign, who can blame them if he’s fast-tracked through the minor league system? If he’s babied, protected, insulated? There’s a huge financial investment at stake, along with the reputation of the organization. The bonus child is going to be given one, two, three, four opportunities to succeed. The guy who signed for a $5,000 and a pack of seeds? If he fails, the loss – financially and emotionally – is minimal. One chance and you’re gone.
Such is the way of pro sports, and it is understandable.
If the Huskies trumpet the signing of a 5-foot-11 shooting guard with, according to the assistant coach assigned to recruit her, “all the tools,” that guard is going to be given every opportunity to win a starting spot. The walk-on who gave up a chance to play at a community college? If she makes it, great. If not, nothing lost.
Such is the way at big-time colleges, and, though deplorable, it is understandable.
The high school level, now that’s another story.
Putting any grade school or middle school athlete on the fast track for high school success is unfair to the kid and to the school’s other prospective athletes. But it happens.
You hear an occasional high school coach talk about this seventh-grade basketball player or that sixth-grade sprinter. It makes you wonder about that middle school youngster who hasn’t hit his or her growth spurt yet, and whether they are going to be treated with the same respect. At most places and in most cases the answer is yes. But even if the answer at one school is no, that’s one too many.
There have been so many cases of kids who peak in the seventh grade, where they were taller, stronger, faster than their classmates. But puberty does funny things to kids – and comes at funny times – and the early bloomer who scored 40 in a sixth-grade AAU game may never play a minute of high school basketball.
But if a prep coach starts talking up some eighth-grade star, watch out. Because when that kid gets to the next level, doors are going to be opened for them that are closed to others.
On the flip side, there are late bloomers who force those doors open. An extreme example can be found at a local college.
It’s possible to name a handful of local then-seventh graders who projected out as better prep basketball players than Adam Morrison. Though most of them went on to nice high school careers and a couple even played a while in college, only Morrison became a first-team All-American.
At the time, who really knew?