There are certain players that you can only think of as playing one position.
Yogi Berra was a catcher.
Jackie Robinson was a second baseman.
Cal Ripken was a short stop.
The funny thing: the three players I just listed, all moved to play a different position later in their careers.
Berra went on to play left field. Robinson moved to first. Ripken became a third baseman.
This week, the greatest center fielder this generation has seen, Torii Hunter (sorry Andruw Jones. It pains me to say it, but I had to admit that to myself a couple years ago.) is making the move to right field.
The move from center to right may not seem like a big deal. After all, it is still in the outfield. But it is a totally different position. And the position he’s roamed for nearly eleven years, well, he’s leaving nine Gold Gloves behind him.
As Hunter said: “Center field is my home,” Hunter, 35, said sadly. “That’s what I love.”
But the team needs him to play right field, and Hunter is going to play as well as he possibly can over there.
This move got me thinking about a few players I came across as both a player and a coach, that were asked (and in some cases told) to play another position… for both the good of the team, and as an individual player, and the less-than-stellar reactions that followed.
One player in particular, stands out in my mind.
He was a high school freshman playing on the freshman team. He was a solid athlete, and maybe the best athlete in that group of freshman. He was also a life-long short stop.
The freshman team was weak in center field, very weak. They had no options to put out there, but they had another player that could play short, and play it well. The freshman coach made the decision to move the “starting short stop,” to center field.
Well that didn’t go over too well. Daddy found out about his son not playing short stop – on the freshman baseball team – and made a point to meet with the freshman coach to share his feelings on the matter.
Daddy: “How could you move my son to center field?”
Coach: “I needed a center fielder.”
Daddy: “He’s a short stop!”
Coach: “He’s the best athlete on the team. I needed a center fielder. He was the only player on the team that could play that position.
Daddy: “But he’s a short stop!”
Coach: “Well he better get used to playing center field, because that’s where he’s playing this season!”
Daddy didn’t get it. The coach told him that his son was a great athlete, the best athlete on the team. The coach told Daddy, that nobody else on the team could do what he was asking his son to do. It wasn’t going to be a permanent move, but for that point in time, it was the best move for the ball club.
But Daddy only wanted his son to play short. Moving him was thought of as an insult. I mean how dare the FRESHMAN coach move a FRESHMAN to another position… for the good of the team? He’s played short stop his “whole life!”
(Sigh…)
Fast forward to our “short stop’s” junior year. He made his return to short the previous season, and was fully intent on being he starting short stop on the varsity.
The problem: He was having a terrible time getting rid of the ball quickly enough – and accurately enough – to first base, which lead to a lot of throwing errors… on routine plays.
The Varsity coach made a decision: he was going to move our short stop to second base. It was a move that was not only going to help the team, but in the long run, help our short stop play in college. (At least the entire coaching staff believed that was his best position.)
Well, aside from Daddy, our newly appointed second baseman was none too happy about the move. He pouted and sulked, and never really fully committed to playing the position. Don’t get me wrong, he worked at it. But you could see his heart wasn’t in it.
That summer, he made a point of playing short. The next season, there was a new varsity coach with no backbone and moved our short stop back to his “natural position.” He had a solid year, moved on to college, where he played…
Second base.
I’ve seen professional catchers with cannons for an arm – but couldn’t hit – get moved from behind the plate to on the mound, and make it to the big leagues.
I’ve seen professional pitchers, that couldn’t cut it on the mound but could swing the bat, get moved to the outfield, and make it to the big leagues.
I played with two different guys, and watch them butcher third base to pieces, only to get moved to left field, and make the big leagues.
Heck, Craig Biggio, made it to the big leagues – AND the All Star team – as a catcher, only to get moved to second base (and make the All Star team), left field, center field, and back to second base. Those moves kept him in the big leagues, get 3000 hits, and locked up his chances of going to the Hall of Fame!
When you’re asked to play a different position, don’t asked “why,” or get insulted. Instead say, “thank you.” The move isn’t meant to hurt your feelings or act an as slap in the face. It’s not a knock on you. It’s a challenge. One your coach thought that YOU were the only one who could handle it, and it’s one that your coach expects you to accept and flourish. It’s a move that on the surface may look like it’s done strictly for the team, but (as if you needed another reason besides team) it could be the move that gets you to the next level.
Coach Bones





Like the Army says-”Be all you can be!” Another life lesson to be learned here, Brian.