Our son was ten years old at the time, which means it was twenty seven years ago. It was the first time I had ever heard of such a thing and I really didn’t think it was true. I came to find out that it was, indeed, true. I would have to think it had been around before that, but this was just the first time it had come into our area. After much research into child development, our local little league was going to institute a new program for those children in the under ten year old leagues. From that point forward every kid on every team would get to bat every inning, even if they were not playing in the field. A child could make an out, but three outs did not end the inning. Every child got to bat. No score was kept. No one lost and no one won. Every child got to play at least three innings in the field. At the end of the year there would be no champion. Everyone was a winner. Every child would be given a participation trophy. No child would feel bad for poor performance, either by their own performance of by the team’s performance. The important thing was that each child would enjoy the games and have fun. Not only was this going to happen in the little league, but it was also going to happen in the younger soccer and basketball leagues, only with varying rules that fit those sports.

          My immediate response to that was, “Stupidest thing I have ever heard.” My next thought was, “This has to have come from a group of mommies.” (I researched it and it did come from a group of mommies.) Apparently, our little darlings are to young to have to deal with winning and losing at such an early age. I was certain that it would never catch on.

          I was wrong. Not only has it caught on, it has expanded. In many places, grades in school are pass/fail, rather than the traditional A, B, C, D and F. In many of those places, you are promoted to the next grade regardless. When I was in high school, my highest grade goal was to maintain at least a C in everything. Otherwise, I could not play sports. I goofed off. Marsha and I were extremely proud of the daughter of some friends of ours. She had done well in school and then went on to college. She told us one day she was graduating with honors. Wow, that was wonderful! Considering my poor high school showing, and my struggles in college, I was somewhat proud to tell her that in graduate school I graduated with honors with my Master’s degree. An achievement. Married, a child, pastoring full time and still graduating with honors, some twenty years earlier. “Really”, she said, “what honors?” “Cum Laude,” I replied. Cum laude is the lowest level of honors, but it is honors. “Oh,” she said with a smile. “That’s nice. I’m graduating Summa cum Laude.” Summa cum Laude is highest honors. I was impressed. I could never have managed that. We went to the graduation. The arena was packed. The graduating students were all seated in their neat rows. The school president stepped to the podium and started his speech. He asked all the students who were graduating with honors to stand. Several hundred students graduating that day. A quick count on my part showed twenty students not standing. Marsha got twenty two. We are not talking Harvard here. In was a University located in the inner city of an old and dying city. There was no way that many kids had achieved that kind of excellence. Unless the program had been dumbed down to the point that you had honors if you managed to get through without committing any major felonies. No wonder she had given me that little smile. In her world, cum Laude was what the slow learners got.

          I always wondered what kind of effect giving a trophy to everyone and pass/fail and easy honors would have on a generation. After the last presidential election, we saw the fullness of the program come to fruition. College kids became enraged. They rushed to their ‘safe places’ to rant and weep. In some places they took to the streets to express themselves with violence and destruction. They demanded recounts, they threatened the president elect, they got on the news and screamed their displeasure. This could not have happened. Their candidate had lost. HOW? They had never lost. It wasn’t in their vocabulary. They had never been let down. IT WAS WRONG! And, to make matters worse, no one in leadership of their party came out and urged calm, no one in leadership said it would be alright and we will get it next time, no one in leadership said now we need to support the new president. They just smiled and said, well, our young people are expressing themselves. Crazy stuff.

          I know a little guy named Braxton. Braxton. Loves. Baseball. Last year, to young to play yet, Braxton was the batboy on the Little League team his grandfather managed and for which his Dad was a coach. He stayed glued to the game. He hustled and got the bats after the players either got hits or outs. He loved it. One game Marsha said something to him and he grinned and said, “I’m gonna play next year!” We had a night where anyone who wanted to go could meet at the Parkview stadium in Fort Wayne and we would see our minor league team play. We got the tickets all together and it was fun. Braxton and his Mom and Dad came. After about the third inning, I got up to do something that I have been doing for years. I went to the gift shop and bought a baseball for every one of our kids younger than Youth age. I came back and started handing them out. All the kids were appreciative, especially since they were not expecting a baseball. When Braxton got his ball, his reaction was priceless. His eyes got huge. He gripped the ball in both hands. He was so excited to have that ball. I knew he had balls at home, but this one was new and white and HE GOT IT AT THE GAME! I wanted to go back and get another one for him, but Marsha told me ‘no’. That was fun!

          So, this year comes along. For the real little kids, they start with T-ball. A ball is set up on a plastic tee that comes up to about chest high on the player, and they hit the ball off that tee. They learn how to hit and which way to run and which hand to throw with and which to catch with and where to throw……..it is just a time to learn. Braxton’s first year was going to be T-ball. Except there were not enough youngsters to make up teams. The Little League, however, said that if they want, they came step up to the next older level and play. For those who were afraid of the little darlings being mentally handicapped by keeping score and poor performance, this would be appalling. The very idea would be out of the question and the one in charge of the League should be dismissed post haste! Fortunately, that is not a problem out here in farm country. Braxton was going to play in a pitch league. But there was another problem. Braxton was born with no bone below the knee in one of his legs. That leg was amputated and he was fitted with a prosthesis. It has to be changed every little while as he grows. The first time I ever saw him was at a picnic his grandparents had invited us too. He was about three years old and running around in shorts. I never noticed anything until he took his leg off to go swimming. He had always had it and had adapted and was having a ton of fun. But, again, to those afraid of hurting a child’s psyche, Braxton was too young and physically not able to play and would likely wind up being bullied. He should not play! Get the child a video game! For goodness sake, have compassion!

          In a game last week, this kid who is to young to be playing with the kids he is playing with and who only has one leg and a prosthesis, this kid who should be sitting at home playing video baseball, went four for four, which means he had four official at bats and with those at bats he had four hits. He is a little kid, so he is not an expert fielder, but he got in front of every ball hit to him and at least knocked it down with his body. For a little kid, that is rare. Most have some fear of the ball. But, once more, to those afraid of hurting a child’s psyche, they would say, “Well, what did he learn? His team won!” No, his team actually lost. And this is what Braxton learned with that loss. He learned that even though you might excel and do the best you can do, you can still lose. He learned that when you lose it hurts, but you deal with it. He learned that you can still have fun when you lose. And, at other times, he has learned that when you win, it is more fun. Braxton is not handicapped by his age or his supposed physical limitations. It is who he is and he is living his life.

          Braxton is the son and grandson and great grandson of farmers. It is in his blood. He loves horses. He loves baseball. He loves life. He will go in the direction he will go in. But I seriously doubt that Braxton will ever need a safe place to rage, I don’t think he will ever take part in a riot, I think that when he gets mouthy with his folks, he will get his butt popped a little. And, I think that somewhere twenty years or so down the road somebody who has a safe place in their parent’s basement will come to Braxton wanting a job.

          This is the important distinction between Braxton and his cousins and friends and kids in other parts of the country who are rewarded just for breathing air. Their parents are raising kids. In the end, they have thirty year old kids who cannot cope with the real world. Braxton’s Mom and Dad, Allison and Travis, are raising a man. Sure, he is a kid now, but he is on a path. He will get off the path now and again, but he has good examples of good men all around him. Braxton will be OK.

          And who knows? Maybe one day he will be playing shortstop for the Cubs. It could happen. Pete Gray in the 1940s played in the outfield for St. Louis and only had one arm and Jim Abbott, who only had one hand, pitched for the Angels, Yankees, White Sox and the Brewers throughout the 1980s and 1990s. He even pitched a no hitter against Cleveland, which was the only no hitter on the major league level I have ever seen. But neither of those guys ever went four for four in a game.

After the last election, I wondered about the fate of our country. But I have had time to reflect. There are a lot of men and women being raised right now in this country, and they will run the place one day. They will be equipped to handle loss and they will be equipped to savor victory. We are good!