This Isn’t Kindergarten: Day 1 as a Batboy

Ed Ott was a World Series Champion with the 1979 Pittsburgh Pirates and a true baseball lifer. By the time I met him, he had taken on a new role as the pitching coach for the New Jersey Jackals - a small-market independent league team that played with big-league heart. I was just 11 years old at the time, serving as a batboy, completely wide-eyed and in awe of the professional players and coaches around me. For a kid like me, it was the experience of a lifetime. But what made it unforgettable wasn’t just the access to the dugout or the buzz of being around the game. It was people like Coach Ed.

Coach Ed had a rough exterior, the kind of guy who seemed carved from the same grit as the old-school players he came up with. He didn’t smile much, and he didn’t believe in sugarcoating anything. But beneath that hard shell was a guy who cared - a guy who looked out for the people around him, especially the kids trying to find their way in the world of baseball.

I remember my first day vividly. It was May 2013, just before a home game, and batting practice was about to start. I was standing near the dugout, unsure of where to be or what to do. I must have looked lost. Coach Ed spotted me and without skipping a beat, he shouted across the field, “Hey! This isn’t kindergarten. Get out there in left field!”

I froze for a second. Was he serious? But then I realized - he wanted me to shag fly balls with the players. I bolted out to left field, glove in hand, where the balls started coming fast and furious. Some nearly pulled me off my feet when they hit my glove, but I caught more than a few, and I’ll admit - I felt pretty proud of myself. For an 11-year-old, it felt like I was part of the team.

From that day on, it became a ritual. Before almost every home game for the next seven seasons, I was in the outfield with the players, shagging fly balls, listening to their banter, absorbing the game in a way few kids ever get to. Coach Ed never treated me like a kid who didn’t belong. He treated me like someone who had potential.

And it wasn’t just about the reps. Sure, catching those fly balls helped my instincts and improved my glove work, but the real lessons were in the in-between moments - the small chats during warmups, the subtle tips on positioning.

Looking back now, I realize just how much those early experiences shaped me. The time I spent on that field helped prepare me for my own playing career. It gave me confidence and a deeper understanding of the game. But more importantly, it helped prepare me for life off the field. The lessons I learned about discipline, respect, humility, and showing up ready to work. Those came from being around guys like Coach Ed.

He and the coaching staff didn’t need to let me get out there. But he did. And that small act of kindness (disguised as a stern command) changed everything for me.

It’s easy to overlook moments like that, to chalk them up as just another day on the diamond. But those little moments add up. They matter. They can alter the course of someone’s path. For me, they did.

Coach Ed Ott may have been a tough guy, but to me, he was one of the first people in the game who saw me not as a kid in the way, but as someone worth investing in. I’ll always be grateful for that.

Thank you for checking out this edition of the Big League Perspective Newsletter! Be sure to share with a friend, teammate, or kid who may benefit! In the meantime, be sure to connect on social media @billythebatboy. 🙌