There are some things that happened in life that cried out for justice. But justice never came.

A high school varsity baseball team was playing a doubleheader at 9:30 a.m. on a Saturday. All the players were told to be dressed and ready to take the field at 8:30 a.m. As the coach exited the door and was about to lock it, he saw one of his players running up to him yelling, “Sorry I'm late, Coach.” The coach didn't ask why he was late and the player didn't say why he was. But the punishment for the player being five minutes tardy was beyond belief.

Mind you, that this player never missed a practice, never was late for any previous games, wasn't a trouble-maker, was very well-thought of by his teammates and he was only an 11th grader. And the punishment he received was the following:

He had to sit out both games of that Saturday doubleheader that didn't get over until 2:30 p.m. Five hours getting splinters sitting on the bench and being totally ignored by the coach. Talk about a punishment exceeding the crime. But, no, there is more to come. Over the next 10 days, the coach kept him on the bench for three more games. After that he was relegated to pinch-hitting. Halfway through the season, the player walked into the coach's office and said, “Coach, I quit.” And the coach said, “All right, that's your decision.” Sure, like there was any other choice.

At the age of 15, that player's hardball career was over because of a know-it-all coach who believed in excessive disciplinary measures where “useful.”

There's nothing useful about pulling the rug out from someone whose only “crime” in playing two and a half years of high school baseball was to be five minutes late getting to the locker room. Ah yes, justice, where were you?

Murray Lynch

Auburn