"Let's go Showtime, let's go! Clap-Clap-Clap!  Let's go Showtime, let's go! Clap-Clap-Clap!" 

The players in the dugout waiting for their turn in the lineup were FIRED UP!  

The chanting was loud, passionate, and non-stop.

"Let's go Showtime, let's go! Clap-Clap-Clap!  Let's go Showtime, let's go! Clap-Clap-Clap!" 

(You can watch the live version of the chant here:
https://www.instagram.com/p/Bvx5CYtFtVW/)

"Showtime" connects for a single and the dugout erupts into cheers.

Was this the 6th inning of a tie game on Opening Day?
Was it the 1st round of the Little League playoffs?
Was it the Championship Game of "King of the Hill?"

Nope.

It was just another afternoon scrimmage at Spring Break Camp with zero fans in the stands, the scoreboard turned off (and nobody keeping score anyway), and players from 6 different leagues divided up randomly on 2 teams for the day.

As I smiled at how much fun the kids were having and how supportive they were being of each other, it reminded me of what parts of youth baseball every one of those players will take with them long after they're done playing.

Over time (and maybe even already), Showtime will not remember the result of that at-bat, but he'll remember what it felt like to have all his teammates cheering for him and how much fun that was.

His teammates also probably already forgot if he got a single, double, or struck out in that at-bat but they'll remember cheering from the dugout and how much fun that was.

Both teams have no idea who won because we didn't keep score, but if we did, I guarantee they would have already forgotten. 

When all is said and done with their baseball careers they only remember a handful of moments or games or stats or plays, but they'll remember every one of their teammates.

Try it.  

What was your Little League team's record when you were 11?  
What was your batting average when you were 10?
What team finished in 1st place when you were 9?

I bet you can't remember any of that.

Now, name your teammates from Little League.
Name the best coach you had.
Name the worst coach you had.

See?

The point is that with a couple exceptions, the individual accomplishments will fade with time.  But they'll remember the type of experience they had on the field.  They'll remember how playing baseball made them feel. They'll remember what baseball taught them. And they'll definitely remember their teammates...forever.

When I got married, Coach Flikke performed the ceremony.  95% of the friends I invited to the wedding were friends from baseball.  The band who played at the reception was made of Baseball Dads I had met coaching their kids at Rolling Hills LL.  The venue (The Depot) was owned by another baseball family I met from coaching their kids.

When my good buddy from High School who went on to play lacrosse at Brown got married a few years after Marissa and I did, guess who his Best Man was? And who most of the guests were?  Teammates from his high school and college lacrosse teams.

Here's pretty much all the individual events I remember from my career:

I remember Brendan Sullivan hitting a walk-off Grand Slam with 2 outs in the bottom of the last inning when we were down 3 runs in High School.  I remember Shooter Starr pitching a perfect game in 11 year old All-Stars.  I remember Jordan Tata and Chris Homer combining on a no-hitter my rookie year of Pro Ball.  I remember hitting 4 homeruns in a double-header my senior year of high school.  I remember losing the Ivy League Division championship to Harvard in the last at-bat my Junior year. If I really thought about it, I could probably dig up a few more plays from the "highlight reel."   But not many.

Few people on Earth played as much baseball as I did between the ages of 5-23 and I still only remember a handful of individual plays or results.

But I remember my teammates, I remember the way the game made me feel, I remember the great coaches I had, I remember the bad coaches I had, - I remember the experiences.

And whether your son hangs up his cleats after Little League or makes it to the pros, when all is said and done, most of his memories from the game won't be about stats, scores, or records - they will be about his teammates, his coaches, and the experience he had playing the game.

So let's all recommit to making Little League (and youth sports) more about the playing, learning, and growth experiences our players have on the diamond than the individual stats or wins and losses that, I promise, will quickly fade from their memories.