Articles on the “decline” of baseball bear a noticeable resemblance to those on the “decline” of Christianity. Some are written with satisfaction; others are written with sorrow. Either way, they are marked by a staid sense that a once formidable American institution has slipped into inevitable deterioration. The interesting question is: why? Usually, blame is placed on those who preside over these organizations—greedy owners, unscrupulous prelates, and so on. On other occasions, criticism has been directed towards larger socio-economic forces, as if baseball and the church were casualties of circumstances beyond their control, victims of the inexorable march of history.
Of course, sometimes these approaches are combined. Recently, John W. Miller’s article in the Jesuit-run magazine America has cited youth baseball as a case study for the degradations of “late-stage capitalism.” Whereas youth sports were once recreational in nature, sponsored by civic and church-based organizations, they have become nothing less than a corporate industry:
We have commodified the play of millions of children into a $19.2 billion business, weakening volunteer-based programs that promise affordable sports for all children. It is a trend mirrored by our schools, hospitals and military. Once-proud public institutions are being privatized, with many unintended consequences.
According to Miller, baseball has “aggressively” adopted this model, and, while youth participation rates in baseball remain relatively high, they have trailed off over the last decade. Miller believes that this is because the price tag of an active baseball schedule is higher than that of rival games such as basketball and soccer. Formerly the sport of choice for all American children, baseball has become a game for the upper classes, thereby losing its grassroots appeal. Miller draws on Catholic social teaching to underscore the problem. Insofar as sports are good for bodily development, spiritual edification, and communal solidarity, they should be widely available. If not, they cease to serve the common good. With this in mind, Miller explicitly draws on Pope Francis:
Francis has…said that sports should be available for “the youth who live at the edges of society.” The children who “play with a rugged old deflated ball in the suburbs of some great cities or the streets of small towns” should be given the opportunity to “take up sport in circumstances of dignity, especially those who are excluded due to poverty,” he said.
In order to flesh out this issue, Miller discusses his own experience as a baseball coach in the Pittsburgh area, providing a laundry list of the problems often associated with travel sports today—expensive travel teams, even more expensive personal lessons, increasing pressure to specialize at a young age, the interference of high-end corporate events and scouting services, etc. The upshot is a product tailor-made for suburban parents who have enough time and money to invest in their kids’ baseball development. It is true, Miller adds, that those who can’t afford the price tag of elite training can pivot to little league. But this option is less exciting when the best players prefer to play elsewhere. Meanwhile, for the people who do remain in the orbit of youth baseball, they can look forward to demanding parents, desperate coaches, and mounting pressure to succeed. Hence, as Miller sees it, baseball has been turned into a commodity—a perfect example of how capitalism can hollow out even the most hallowed of American institutions.
Miller’s article is thought-provoking, and, as the parent of two active baseball players, I read it with a degree of sympathy. Yet, like many narratives of decline, it is more eisegetical than exegetical. His argument relies more on anecdotal evidence than on objective fact—a limitation that does not so much render it invalid as incomplete. For example, I have a son in junior high who spent the better part of the last few years playing for a New Jersey based travel team. To Miller’s point, this was hardly a cheap investment. Not only were the practice and tournament fees substantial, but the personal costs were equally dear—stressful drives across the Ben Franklin Bridge, dinners at 9pm on school nights, and so on. I have talked to many parents who told me that they would never undertake such a thing, and I can understand why. And yet, my son’s team was by no means the “country-club” environment that Miller laments. In fact, one thing I liked about this experience was that it placed my son around a truly diverse set of coaches and kids—families from Newark, Trenton, and Cape May, the sons of shopowners, cops, mechanics, and teachers. The “country-club circuit” no doubt exists, but to suggest that it is a fait accompli is misleading.
Moreover, while it is absolutely true that corporate entities have come to dominate the tournament circuit, I think Miller exaggerates the extent to which this is culturally or even racially exclusionary. Indeed, it may be just the opposite. Several months ago, my 15-year-old son spent time with a Florida team on which Spanish was the primary language. We have played teams from the Bronx, Dallas, and San Diego, none of which could ever be described as a homogenous or monochromatic. The truth is—and this point extends to basketball, the other sport in which my sons participate—the events hosted by Perfect Game or Zero Gravity (or whatever) are remarkably multicultural. And the better the competition, the more diverse these events become: it’s true that you’re unlikely to find a team from San Juan at a weekend tournament in the suburbs of Pittsburgh, but you will find one at a weeklong national event in Orlando. In fact, the express purpose of services such as Perfect Game or Prep Baseball Report is to “shrink” the amateur baseball world, to the put the kid from Des Moines on the same field (literally and figuratively) as the kid from Boston. And, frankly, they do a fairly good job of it.
I think Miller’s most persuasive case is how expensive and time-consuming this has all become. If one isn’t going to an event or a showcase, one is trying to figure out which event or showcase to attend. Such opportunities are legion. The fear of missing out is real, and it makes an immense amount of money for various corporate entities. Even more distressing, the outcomes are incredibly uncertain. One can spend thousands of dollars for four or five at-bats (not counting walks), two or three lopsided games, bad umpiring, and inexplicable coaching decisions. Sometimes it’s worse—or, to be fair, much better. The truth is: one can never be sure. The best option is to latch onto a reputable and principled travel program, but those are not easy to find (or make). And, if one is found (and made), it’s sure to be pricey. But to what end? The long drives to Atlanta or Chicago may culminate in a college scholarship, and that’s what most people are seeking. Yet, if major sacrifices are certain, there are no guarantees of reward.
Here, again, my sense is that Miller’s article misevaluates the situation. The so-called country-club parents, at least from what I’ve seen, often don’t take this “scholarship or bust” mentality. After all, they don’t need the money. It is the more diverse crowd that turns up at the biggest competitions. Perhaps they find success, perhaps not. But the hosts are sure to make money either way.
What this ultimately means for baseball in particular, and sports in general, is hard to say. But Miller is doubtless right that we’ve come a long way from the “common good” model of local little leagues. And I would agree that this deprives many kids of the opportunity to partake of the benefits offered by sports, especially the intrinsic virtues of diligence, patience, and teamwork. This is a genuine concern, which, in my view, has little to do with the future of baseball (which, despite its problems, will be fine) and much to do with the health of children and society writ large. For many of the kids who leave the rigors of travel sports will be abandoned to the digital world, which is fraught with its own challenges. And, if Miller is truly concerned about the tragedies of “late-stage capitalism,” the disembodied avatars of social media would be a good place to start.
Youth sports can be a valuable part of life lessons that children need to learn, as long as parents and coaches understand that baseball, basketball, soccer, etc are the last things they need to learn, not the first. Just the opinion of a parent of two boys who were involved in sports.