I have just recently accepted a leadership role that has proven to be more of a challenge than I ever anticipated. It has truly caused me to pause and draw a few parallels. Before I share those, let me bring you up to speed on my role.

My four year old wanted to play baseball this fall. We encouraged his participation and were more than happy to let him play. However, after the first practice the lone coach made a plea to a bleacher full of adults to assist him with a team critical role…Dugout Dad. No one budged. So after a few moments, which seemed like minutes, I broke the silence and volunteered my services. Had I only known what I was getting into I think I may had excused myself and escaped to the safety of the concession stand. The coach said the job was easy. Maintain order in the dugout and make sure the right kid comes up to bat. How hard could that be? Right? I have worked with kids for years. I have been a leader for years. I manage over fifty full-time employees. I have been a parent for years. No problem. They will all sit down, await their turn and politely and punctually make their way to the plate when it is their turn to bat. If not, I will make sure it does not happen again.

Nothing was further from the truth! My first outing was a disaster. It was so bad that I was being heckled by the parents in the stands. There were four year olds everywhere. One climbing the fence. Two playing tag in the 3 foot by eight foot dugout. One squirting water at another one. Three on the playground outside the dugout. Which by the way had to be a design flaw. Why would any reasonable human being place a playground mere feet from a dozen four year olds? One trying on every helmet left in the dugout. Thank goodness he was up to bat next. The only thing I succeeded in all night was to make sure the right player was up to bat at the right time. By the time the game was over, all three innings, I was exhausted, but I was resolved not to let the second game go the same way.

Our dugout problem was simple to diagnose. We had a focus problem. So how could I overcome our obvious lack of focus? And how could I accomplish this with a ragtag group of four year olds? It was time to put a few basic principals to the test. Principals that should translate no matter the environment…even in a t-ball dugout. The first step I took was to memorize the names of the kids. Saying, “hey you” and “come on number 5” wasn’t getting the job done. They needed to know I would at least take the time to know their names. They needed to know that I cared more about them then about making sure the right kid had the right hat on his head. They just wanted to know they were important. So I memorized their names and began asking them questions about themselves. Basically, I invested each of them.

Secondly, I bought a Sharpie. A pen is a seemingly simple purchase, but it would allow me to create ownership. At the beginning of every inning we had a mad dash that looked like a hurricane of blue hats and leather gloves. The word “chaos” didn’t accurately define the scene. I simply wanted to create a sense of ownership for each child so they would be responsible for their gear. So I wrote their names on their hats, gloves and bats and put it in their little hands to find their own stuff. The next principal I worked on was communication. At the beginning of each session in the dugout I began calling out the batting order. I continually repeated myself all the way through the eighth batter. Each player was well aware of who was up and who was on deck. They knew what was happening and what was about to happen. No longer were they in the dark about the progress of the game.

They next principal was possibly the most difficult to execute with four year olds. I needed to make sure this team was accountable. So I developed a few basic rules for living together in the dugout. Purely basics. Stay in the dugout. No swinging aluminum bats in the dugout. Nothing too complex. Just the basics. But how was I going to hold the Yankee’s to the task? I figured it was baseball, so why not go with three strikes then your out? So I began keeping track of the times each child broke one of our team rules. As they received a strike I would remind them of the consequences that three strikes would elicit. The mood in the dugout changed drastically. The last principal I introduced to my son’s t-ball team was sharing victories. Not just the big ones, but the simple ones. A good hit. A straight throw. Stopping the ball. Making an out. We began celebrating each others accomplishments.

Don’t get me wrong…we still have a focus problem. Come on! I’m not a miracle worker. I am still talking about four year old t-ballers. But we are vastly improved. We are not loosing as many hats, we have law and order in the dugout and we are playing as a team on and off the field. It’s fun to watch them grow and improve each week. I would like to think that by introducing a few basic universal leadership principals to my team that we have improved our focus and began to work better as a team. If it can work with a group of four year olds, imagine what you could do with your teams. Investing in people relationally, creating ownership, communicating direction, developing accountability and sharing victories are just five simple steps to developing your teams. They may be simple, but they are crucial and often overlooked. Everyone desires for their team to execute and get results. It doesn’t just happen. It takes purpose, planning, work and lots of Blow Pops.

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