Wisdom from an old-timer
Mar 27, 2017 22:06:37 #
Elijah Stiner
March 22, 2016 ·
Worth the read... For everyone especially parents and coaches
In Nashville, Tennessee, during the first week of January 1996, more than 4,000 baseball coaches descended upon the Opryland Hotel for the 52nd annual ABCA convention.
While I waited in line to register with the hotel staff, I heard other more veteran coaches rumbling about the lineup of speakers scheduled to present during the weekend. One name, in particular, kept resurfacing, always with the same sentiment — “John Scolinos is here? Oh man, worth every penny of my airfare.”
Who the heck is John Scolinos, I wondered. Well, in 1996 Coach Scolinos was 78 years old and five years retired from a college coaching career that began in 1948. No matter, I was just happy to be there.
He shuffled to the stage to an impressive standing ovation, wearing dark polyester pants, a light blue shirt, and a string around his neck from which home plate hung — a full-sized, stark-white home plate. Pointed side down.
Seriously, I wondered, who in the hell is this guy?
After speaking for twenty-five minutes, not once mentioning the prop h*****g around his neck, Coach Scolinos appeared to notice the snickering among some of the coaches. Even those who knew Coach Scolinos had to wonder exactly where he was going with this, or if he had simply forgotten about home plate since he’d gotten on stage.
Then, finally …
“You’re probably all wondering why I’m wearing home plate around my neck. Or maybe you think I escaped from Camarillo State Hospital,” he said, his voice growing irascible. I laughed along with the others, acknowledging the possibility.
“No,” he continued, “I may be old, but I’m not crazy. The reason I stand before you today is to share with you baseball people what I’ve learned in my life, what I’ve learned about home plate in my 78 years.”
Several hands went up when Scolinos asked how many Little League coaches were in the room. “Do you know how wide home plate is in Little League?” After a pause, someone offered, “Seventeen inches,” more question than an answer.
“That’s right,” he said. “How about in Babe Ruth? Any Babe Ruth coaches in the house?”
Another long pause.
“Seventeen inches?” came a guess from another reluctant coach.
“That’s right,” said Scolinos. “Now, how many high school coaches do we have in the room?” Hundreds of hands shot up, as the pattern began to appear. “How wide is home plate in high school baseball?”
“Seventeen inches,” they said, sounding more confident.
“You’re right!” Scolinos barked. “And you college coaches, how wide is home plate in college?”
“Seventeen inches!” we said, in unison.
“Any Minor League coaches here? How wide is home plate in pro ball?”
“Seventeen inches!”
“RIGHT! And in the Major Leagues, how wide home plate is in the Major Leagues?”
“Seventeen inches!”
“SEV-EN-TEEN INCHES!” he confirmed, his voice bellowing off the walls.
“And what do they do with a Big League pitcher who can’t throw the ball over these seventeen inches?” Pause. “They send him to Pocatello!” he hollered, drawing raucous laughter.
“What they do is this: they say, ‘Ah, that’s okay, Bobby. You can’t hit a seventeen-inch target? We’ll make it eighteen inches, or nineteen inches. We’ll make it twenty inches so you have a better chance of throwing the ball over it. If you can’t hit that, let us know so we can make it wider still, say twenty-five inches.’”
Pause.
“Coaches …”
Pause.
” … what do we do when our best player shows up late to practice? What do we do if he violates curfew? What if he uses drugs? Do we hold him accountable? Or do we change the rules to fit him? Do we widen home plate?
The chuckles gradually faded as four thousand coaches grew quiet, the fog lifting as the old coach’s message began to unfold.
Then he turned the plate toward himself and, using a Sharpie, began to draw something. When he turned it toward the crowd, point up, a house was revealed, complete with a freshly drawn door and two windows. “This is the problem in our homes today. With our marriages, with the way, we parent our kids. With our discipline. We don’t teach accountability to our kids, and there is no consequence for failing to meet standards. We widen the plate!”
Pause. Then, to the point at the top of the house, he added a small American f**g.
“This is the problem in our schools today. The quality of our education is going downhill fast and teachers have been stripped of the tools they need to be successful….to educate and discipline our young people. We are allowing others to widen home plate! Where is that getting us?”
“And this is the problem in the Church, where powerful people in positions of authority have taken advantage of young children, only to have such an atrocity swept under the rug for years. Our church leaders are widening home plate!”
I was amazed. At a baseball convention where I expected to learn something about curveballs and bunting and how to run better practices, I had learned something far more valuable. From an old man with home plate strung around his neck, I had learned something about life, about myself, about my own weaknesses and about my responsibilities as a leader. I had to hold myself and others accountable to that which I knew to be right, lest our families, our faith, and our society continue down an undesirable path.
“If I am lucky,” Coach Scolinos concluded, “you will remember one thing from this old coach today. It is this: if we fail to hold ourselves to a higher standard, a standard of what we know to be right; if we fail to hold our spouses and our children to the same standards, if we are unwilling or unable to provide a consequence when they do not meet the standard; and if our schools and churches and our government fail to hold themselves accountable to those they serve, there is but one thing to look forward to …”
With that, he held home plate in front of his chest, turned it around, and revealed its dark black backside.
“… dark days ahead.”
Coach Scolinos died in 2009 at the age of 91, but not before touching the lives of hundreds of players and coaches, including mine. Meeting him at my first ABCA convention kept me returning year after year, looking for similar wisdom and inspiration from other coaches. He is the best clinic speaker the ABCA has ever known because he was so much more than a baseball coach.
His message was clear: “Coaches, keep your players — no matter how good they are — your own children, and most of all, keep yourself at seventeen inches.
(Copied post)
March 22, 2016 ·
Worth the read... For everyone especially parents and coaches
In Nashville, Tennessee, during the first week of January 1996, more than 4,000 baseball coaches descended upon the Opryland Hotel for the 52nd annual ABCA convention.
While I waited in line to register with the hotel staff, I heard other more veteran coaches rumbling about the lineup of speakers scheduled to present during the weekend. One name, in particular, kept resurfacing, always with the same sentiment — “John Scolinos is here? Oh man, worth every penny of my airfare.”
Who the heck is John Scolinos, I wondered. Well, in 1996 Coach Scolinos was 78 years old and five years retired from a college coaching career that began in 1948. No matter, I was just happy to be there.
He shuffled to the stage to an impressive standing ovation, wearing dark polyester pants, a light blue shirt, and a string around his neck from which home plate hung — a full-sized, stark-white home plate. Pointed side down.
Seriously, I wondered, who in the hell is this guy?
After speaking for twenty-five minutes, not once mentioning the prop h*****g around his neck, Coach Scolinos appeared to notice the snickering among some of the coaches. Even those who knew Coach Scolinos had to wonder exactly where he was going with this, or if he had simply forgotten about home plate since he’d gotten on stage.
Then, finally …
“You’re probably all wondering why I’m wearing home plate around my neck. Or maybe you think I escaped from Camarillo State Hospital,” he said, his voice growing irascible. I laughed along with the others, acknowledging the possibility.
“No,” he continued, “I may be old, but I’m not crazy. The reason I stand before you today is to share with you baseball people what I’ve learned in my life, what I’ve learned about home plate in my 78 years.”
Several hands went up when Scolinos asked how many Little League coaches were in the room. “Do you know how wide home plate is in Little League?” After a pause, someone offered, “Seventeen inches,” more question than an answer.
“That’s right,” he said. “How about in Babe Ruth? Any Babe Ruth coaches in the house?”
Another long pause.
“Seventeen inches?” came a guess from another reluctant coach.
“That’s right,” said Scolinos. “Now, how many high school coaches do we have in the room?” Hundreds of hands shot up, as the pattern began to appear. “How wide is home plate in high school baseball?”
“Seventeen inches,” they said, sounding more confident.
“You’re right!” Scolinos barked. “And you college coaches, how wide is home plate in college?”
“Seventeen inches!” we said, in unison.
“Any Minor League coaches here? How wide is home plate in pro ball?”
“Seventeen inches!”
“RIGHT! And in the Major Leagues, how wide home plate is in the Major Leagues?”
“Seventeen inches!”
“SEV-EN-TEEN INCHES!” he confirmed, his voice bellowing off the walls.
“And what do they do with a Big League pitcher who can’t throw the ball over these seventeen inches?” Pause. “They send him to Pocatello!” he hollered, drawing raucous laughter.
“What they do is this: they say, ‘Ah, that’s okay, Bobby. You can’t hit a seventeen-inch target? We’ll make it eighteen inches, or nineteen inches. We’ll make it twenty inches so you have a better chance of throwing the ball over it. If you can’t hit that, let us know so we can make it wider still, say twenty-five inches.’”
Pause.
“Coaches …”
Pause.
” … what do we do when our best player shows up late to practice? What do we do if he violates curfew? What if he uses drugs? Do we hold him accountable? Or do we change the rules to fit him? Do we widen home plate?
The chuckles gradually faded as four thousand coaches grew quiet, the fog lifting as the old coach’s message began to unfold.
Then he turned the plate toward himself and, using a Sharpie, began to draw something. When he turned it toward the crowd, point up, a house was revealed, complete with a freshly drawn door and two windows. “This is the problem in our homes today. With our marriages, with the way, we parent our kids. With our discipline. We don’t teach accountability to our kids, and there is no consequence for failing to meet standards. We widen the plate!”
Pause. Then, to the point at the top of the house, he added a small American f**g.
“This is the problem in our schools today. The quality of our education is going downhill fast and teachers have been stripped of the tools they need to be successful….to educate and discipline our young people. We are allowing others to widen home plate! Where is that getting us?”
“And this is the problem in the Church, where powerful people in positions of authority have taken advantage of young children, only to have such an atrocity swept under the rug for years. Our church leaders are widening home plate!”
I was amazed. At a baseball convention where I expected to learn something about curveballs and bunting and how to run better practices, I had learned something far more valuable. From an old man with home plate strung around his neck, I had learned something about life, about myself, about my own weaknesses and about my responsibilities as a leader. I had to hold myself and others accountable to that which I knew to be right, lest our families, our faith, and our society continue down an undesirable path.
“If I am lucky,” Coach Scolinos concluded, “you will remember one thing from this old coach today. It is this: if we fail to hold ourselves to a higher standard, a standard of what we know to be right; if we fail to hold our spouses and our children to the same standards, if we are unwilling or unable to provide a consequence when they do not meet the standard; and if our schools and churches and our government fail to hold themselves accountable to those they serve, there is but one thing to look forward to …”
With that, he held home plate in front of his chest, turned it around, and revealed its dark black backside.
“… dark days ahead.”
Coach Scolinos died in 2009 at the age of 91, but not before touching the lives of hundreds of players and coaches, including mine. Meeting him at my first ABCA convention kept me returning year after year, looking for similar wisdom and inspiration from other coaches. He is the best clinic speaker the ABCA has ever known because he was so much more than a baseball coach.
His message was clear: “Coaches, keep your players — no matter how good they are — your own children, and most of all, keep yourself at seventeen inches.
(Copied post)
Mar 27, 2017 23:48:56 #
padremike
Loc: Phenix City, Al
Armageddun wrote:
Elijah Stiner br March 22, 2016 · br Worth the re... (show quote)
Great! Nothing remains to be added. This posting is a stand alone comment!
Mar 28, 2017 15:18:06 #
Mar 28, 2017 21:26:50 #
Armageddun wrote:
Elijah Stiner br March 22, 2016 · br Worth the re... (show quote)
excellent post Armi
BTW---found any 8 inch wormes lately???
Mar 29, 2017 18:29:42 #
badbobby wrote:
excellent post Armi
BTW---found any 8 inch wormes lately???
BTW---found any 8 inch wormes lately???
We have had some storms both rain and hail. I am a thinkin that all the wormes have drownded or have been beat to death. All our roofs have to be replaced
3 shingle roofs and 4 metals roofs. some siding, 2 broken windows, 2 metal doors. So I haven't had time to entice the big wormes back yet. This could be a bad year for recod wormes and bluegill.
Mar 29, 2017 18:59:31 #
padremike
Loc: Phenix City, Al
Armageddun wrote:
We have had some storms both rain and hail. I am a... (show quote)
No worms, use crickets. One word of advice, "life is too short to fish with a dead cricket." Sounds like you had a bad hail storm. I had three roofs in 8 years when I lived in Cheyenne. Finally the insurance companies refused to insure hail damage to roofs. I used to get night crawlers by taking an old rotisserie rod, solder a single terminal to it, water the lawn, find the hot side on an extension cord, plug in on the rod and pick them up as the flew out the grown.
Mar 29, 2017 21:29:57 #
padremike wrote:
No worms, use crickets. One word of advice, "life is too short to fish with a dead cricket." Sounds like you had a bad hail storm. I had three roofs in 8 years when I lived in Cheyenne. Finally the insurance companies refused to insure hail damage to roofs. I used to get night crawlers by taking an old rotisserie rod, solder a single terminal to it, water the lawn, find the hot side on an extension cord, plug in on the rod and pick them up as the flew out the grown.
Did you just use one side, (the hot ) side? I used two rods, even put a rheostat in line, hot on one side, ground on the other rod, that brought the worms out, but they died rather quickly. Are you saying the earth made the ground? Did your worms stay alive for a while? I tried the same system with the battery on the truck no worms. I figured it required AC instead of DC voltage? I use crickets when I go to Reel Foot lake in Tennesse. I like night crawlers for Bass.
Mar 29, 2017 21:55:26 #
padremike
Loc: Phenix City, Al
Armageddun wrote:
Did you just use one side, (the hot ) side? I used two rods, even put a rheostat in line, hot on one side, ground on the other rod, that brought the worms out, but they died rather quickly. Are you saying the earth made the ground? Did your worms stay alive for a while? I tried the same system with the battery on the truck no worms. I figured it required AC instead of DC voltage? I use crickets when I go to Reel Foot lake in Tennesse. I like night crawlers for Bass.
I used one rod and one male contact soldered on the rod and used AC current and plugged the hot side of the extension cord on the contact. If you have a live worm place it on he ground and try each side of female plug. The worm will tell you immediately which side is hot. I never found that this method ever harmed the nightcrawlers. I never tried this method on regular earthworms. In Wyoming we only had Canadian night crawlers but we had lots of them. Wife loved that I kept them in the fridge.
I used to fish Reel Foot back in the 60s. Easy place to ruin a prop back then. Carried a good supply of sheer pins. But holy moly, the Crappie fishing was superb. Quite a story on the formation of that lake. The New Madrid fault I believe I heard could do the same thing again. You must live close to the Bootheel?
Mar 30, 2017 12:45:24 #
padremike wrote:
I used one rod and one male contact soldered on th... (show quote)
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We live about 25 miles south of St. Louis. It is 200 miles from our door to Reel Foot. I suppose we are on the Northern tip of the New Madrid fault. It has been several years since we have been there. We used to have a rented lot right on the lake. Sadly, the government hs taken all the properties on the shoreline and have removed all the nostalgic effects away. My Dad introduced me to Reel Foot fishing probably 40-45 years ago. age slows one down but the memories last as long as we do. You would not believe it but they actually run wide open with bass boats in some areas now. I am not that brave but do run faster than in past years. The crappie have made a tremendous comeback. They are catching lunkers once again. we would love to make at least one final trip.
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