We have a player in I Love Baseball named Filleral (good luck trying to pronounce that if you don’t speak Spanish). He is only 14 but he is big and fast, a tremendous athlete. Mentally though, he is a 14 year old. He is still goofy. He isn’t always focused. Filleral gets singled out a lot at practice for goofing off, not paying attention or slacking. If he didn’t have such tremendous potential, he would probably get away with more.

As I watched this occurring again today (he didn’t feel the need today to finish his drills through the last cone or sometimes the last couple), it reminded me that in life we are hardest on those we believe in the most. We push them. We make them test their limits. Honestly, we hold them to a different standard. A different person doing the same thing might get ignored or might even get a pat on the back. They are doing their best.

I think that is why I crave feedback. I crave more than just a good job or okay. I want to know someone believes in me enough to push me and not let me settle for less than I’m capable of. When someone isn’t telling me what I can do better, it basically says you’ve peaked or I don’t care enough to push you. You can’t get any better. This is as good as you are going to get. Oh but criticism, constructive or otherwise, screams you can do better! You have what it takes! I think you have more in you! I believe in you!

That may not always be what is heard in the moment and we need to speak a wise blend of encouragement, criticism and love, but I’ll trade criticism any day for the alternative. Pats on the back along the way are nice, but if you don’t reach your goal, what good were they? You are left to sit and wonder, what if I pushed just a little harder? What if I went just a little further past my comfort zone? Did I leave something on the table? I don’t ever want to live with those questions.

The worst thing in the world is to hear nothing (I guess being told you flat out can’t do it would be worse but that might inspire you to prove them wrong. Nothing makes you think, “It doesn’t matter. Nobody will notice anyway.”). Criticism means at least someone took the time and energy to say something. Fine, okay or good are only one step up from nothing. I crave detail. What did I do well? What did I do poorly? And that is why my love language is feedback. I know it isn’t one of the “official” love languages, but it is kind of a nice mix and derivation of a couple that speaks to me.

Random kind of related story: I remember during my senior season of college football, it was getting toward the end of the year and our record wasn’t very good. Our defensive line coach said something to the effect of seniors enjoy the time you have left, you aren’t going to get any better and young guys keep working and preparing for next year. Everything in me screamed no! I have more! I can be better! Don’t limit me! He was wrong. I got better every single day until the last time I put pads on and I think I improved more during those last couple weeks than at any other point in my career. Sad to think that when I was the best I had ever been I had to stop.

For the most part I Love Baseball is working with kids that want to be baseball players. We are trying to address some of the problems that are created by young men dropping out of school and leaving home to pursue their dream of baseball glory. We firmly believe that we can replace the negatives that often come along with the pursuit of this dream with positives that are going to open doors for them and develop godly men who will be leaders who can transform their communities whether they ever play a day in the big leagues or not. Even though we view baseball as a tool to work with these kids, it is easy to sometimes view baseball as the problem or the culprit. Their is certainly plenty of blame to go around for the problems down here and part of the blame does go to the culture and systems that have developed around baseball in the Dominican. The reality though is that there is massive potential to do good and change lives through baseball and my favorite I Love Baseball player story really gets to the heart of that.

My favorite story in the I Love Baseball program isn’t about a baseball player who discovered there is more to life than just playing baseball. It is the story of a young man with no parents and no plans or dreams of becoming a baseball player. A young man who literally traded our coach his machete for a pair of cleats and a glove. Baseball game him a purpose and direction. Baseball gave him a family and he has become an amazing young man. I look forward to sharing more of his story with you as I get to know him better. His story reminds us of the redemptive quality of sports. How athletics can be a positive outlet for youths that keeps them off the street and teaches them about teamwork, sportsmanship, dedication and hard work. We may not forget that side of athletics in the States where sports had that kind of positive influence on may of our lives, but here in the Dominican, where youth sports is big business and the lessons and associations that go along with them can often be massively negative, it can be easy to look at baseball as the enemy. It isn’t. Baseball can save lives.

Kids are wiling to do anything to play baseball. They will drop out of school. They will leave their families and friends behind and move 3 1/2 hours away from home to train and give themselves the best opportunity to get signed. They will take steroids. They will try to use voodoo to curse other players. Conversely if we tell them what they need to do to get the best training possible is go to school and do well, perform community service, participate in bible study, learn English and be mentored, they will do that to. That is why I Love Baseball works and along the way these kids lives are transformed and their worlds opened to new opportunities and possibilities.