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What happened to the city's little leaguers?

Ben Liebing, bliebing@enquirer.com
From left: Steven Sanders, 9; Antonio Penman, 8; Milton Godfrey Jr., 8; Antone Cannady, 8; Avery Battle, 9; Ozzerrian Brown, 9; and Maquel Bass, 9, look onto Weaver Field in the West End as the West End Reds prepare to take the field for a game, Wednesday, April 15.

They sit in the dugout – fifteen boys lined in black and white pinstripes.

"Do I have your attention?!" Coach Will Patton barks. "Yes, sir!" the boys shout in the kind of unison that would make an Army colonel proud.

"What's a rushed throw?" Patton demands. "A bad throw!" Fifteen voices. Perfect harmony.

"What do we do if it's hit in the outfield?!" "Hit the cutoff man!"

Coach Will hunkers down and slaps his hands.

Game time.

But it may not be this way for long.

The West End Reds are the last youth baseball teams in Cincinnati's Over-the-Rhine and West End.

Maquel Bass, 9, smiles before delivering a pitch during a game, Wednesday, April 15, at Weaver Field in the West End.

Cincinnati, where major league baseball began.

Cincinnati, which this summer will host the MLB All-Star Game.

Cincinnati, where 84 little leaguers aren't sure how they're getting to the game next week. Some parents don't have cars. Some can't afford the uniform. And then there's the newly levied park fee. Forget this year's budget, they're still $3,000 short from last season.

Coaches pick up the tab for some of it – the uniforms and the transportation. But the problem is even larger than dollars. There aren't enough teams in the near vicinity to even take the field with the West End Reds.

Some fear the Reds' seasons are now numbered.

So what has happened to little league ball in the Downtown core?

It's the money

The West End Reds do get some financial help. They are partially supported by the Cincinnati Reds Community Fund, which donates a total of about $250,000 to 700 teams across the city, to help pay for uniforms and equipment, to pay field fees and provide trophies each year. In exchange, each team is required to complete a minimum of three community service projects per season.

The West End Reds get roughly $8,700 from both the CommunityFund and registration fees, but need a minimum of $12,000 a year to make this work. And coaches sometimes waive fees so the kids can play. The rest, according to West End resident and assistant coach Derek Bauman, the team attempts to cover by holding car washes and fundraisers.

In the West End, where the average household income is $16,606, this is difficult. And last year, for the first time, the Cincinnati Recreation Commission charged the team a fee for maintenance of Weaver Field – the first time such a fee has existed, according to coach Fred Carnes.

West End Reds CEO Fred Carnes, left, points where Candon Wilborn, 9, should be on the field before a game on Wednesday, April 15, 2015, at Weaver Field in the West End.

"We see these urban teams that have the talent and can compete with anyone," Charley Frank, executive director of the Cincinnati Reds Community Fund says. "But they don't have the infrastructure. Coaches wear all the hats. Transportation is hard; parents are not as involved."

As community involvement wanes, kids lose interest. Teams dwindle.

"As time passes in the inner-city, kids quit playing baseball," Coach Carnes says. "Now we get kids from wherever we can – the neighborhood here, Over-the-Rhine, even Westwood and Colerain."

Avery Battle, 9, swings at a pitch during a game, Wednesday, April 15, at Weaver Field in the West End.

A bigger problem

In 1985, ESPN took its first sports popularity poll. That year, the NFL was only one percentage point more popular than the MLB.

In 2014, ESPN found the gap had widened, with 35 percent of fans now listing the NFL as their favorite league, with only 14 percent preferring baseball.

It is a problem where cause and effect are hard to pin down. Big Baseball is working to fix the problem, with efforts to speed up the game for viewers and find a way to appeal to Americans across classes. At the same time, there's evidence to suggest that the league is not appealling to the African-American community as it once did.

In 1986, 19 percent of major leaguers were African-American, USA TODAY reported. Today, that number has dropped to 7.8 percent.

In Cincinnati, when there were once six organization fielding teams in multiple age groups in Over-the-Rhine and West End, now there are only the Reds.

The problem is that baseball all over the city has changed, according to Carnes.

"It's supposed to be a community game – not just with your teammates, but with neighbors and friends," he says.

Carnes started as a parent-coach. That was back in the mid-90's. "Then it was the West End YMCA that ran the team," he said. "We partnered with Seven Hills Neighborhood housing and, back then, there were six organizations that all put out teams. Each team had all the age groups, from T-ball to teenagers," he remembers. "So there were a lot of kids, a lot of baseball."

West End Reds catcher Jalen Jordan, 9, throws to first base during a game, Wednesday, April 15 at Weaver Field in the West End.

"But nowadays," Carnes says, "it's all about traveling teams. Everybody wants their kids on the 'elite' teams, which pull kids out of the Knothole system – which was built to be a community thing. Now they get on teams with 70 games a year, maybe two, three, four hours away."

"In Knothole," he says, "any kid that wants to play can play. The object was always to learn," Carnes shakes his head.

"Now, all people care about is winning."

The value of the game

To Carnes, baseball matters. Not because of what it is, but because of what it teaches, what it does.

"I always ask the kids, 'What's first?'" Carnes said. They know the answer is "school."

"What's second?" They kids yell out: "Parents."

"What's third?"

That's baseball.

"It's also the one sport that's really hard to play on your own," University of Cincinnati Baseball coach Ty Neal said. "Baseball is relationship. It's community."

Maquel Bass, 9, delivers a pitch during a game, Wednesday, April 15 at Weaver Field in the West End.

Charley Frank at the Community Fund speaks to the same point. "Baseball and softball are unique in that they don't require the athlete to be the biggest, strongest or fastest," Frank says. "A young person that learns the nuances of the game can thrive in ways that might be difficult in football or basketball, and potentially use the game as a stepping-stone to high school success, college scholarship opportunities, and beyond."

On the West End, this matters.

"Kids down here have to have something to do," Coach Gardner said. "Or they'll end up in trouble, for sure."

"We've saved kids," Carnes says. "We've lost some. But we've saved some."

"I was one of those kids," Gardner said. "The West End is rough, man," he says. "Who knows what I'd be into now if it wasn't for this team."

"We start losing kids at about 12 or 13 years old," Carnes said. "We're trying to work with schools to bridge that gap, but it's hard. Kids get out of baseball, and start getting in trouble. And we start to lose parent involvement. That's crucial. Parents have to invest in their kids.

"And I'm not talking about money. It's time."

When he first started coaching in College Hill, Carnes said local policemen umpired games. "Think about the kind of relationship that builds," he said.

"Lately, we've got some of the Cincinnati officers that'll stop and watch the games, even the T-ball games," Carnes said, smiling. "If we can get the policemen more involved again, for example, imagine what that could do."

"It changes the relationship when the cop on the beat knows the kid's batting average, doesn't it?"

Coach Orlanzo Brown, or Coach Zo, reminds Steven Sanders, 9, and Antonio Penman, 8, about their defensive assignments prior to a game, Wednesday, April 15, at Weaver Field in the West End.

Big league priorities

This year, MLB Commissioner Robert Manfred, in one of his first official statements, said: "My top priority is to bring more people into our game – at all levels and from all communities. Specifically, I plan to make the game more accessible to those in underserved areas, especially in the urban areas where fields and infrastructure are harder to find."

Tony Reagins, MLB's senior vice president for youth programs, told USA TODAY this month that he's encouraged by what he sees in new youth baseball numbers.

"There are more younger African-American players engaged in the game," said Reagins, "and a lot of the younger players are coming through the academies. There are a lot of programs out there that are producing good young talent."

One of the academies he's talking about is the P&G Cincinnati MLB Urban Youth Academy, which opened just last year in the Roselawn neighborhood. A project between Major League Baseball, The Cincinnati Reds, Proctor and Gamble, and the City of Cincinnati, the Youth Academy is a $7.5 million, 33,000-square-foot span of training facilities and baseball diamonds, which exists to provide free, year-round training to youth in Cincinnati. This all presupposes kids can get there – a big assumption.

West End Reds player Jalen Jordan, 9, slides into home plate for a run during a game, Wednesday, April 15 at Weaver Field in the West End. Eighty-four kids of various ages participate in the West End Reds baseball program.

On the West End, there is still much to be done.

Back at Weaver Field, Coach Patton stands like a bulldog on the sidelines.

"How many outs?!" he shouts.

"One!" Nine young voices. Choral unison.

Fists punch gloves. Claps echo behind the backstop. The pitchers sets.

Marcie Jones stands behind the backstop. Her son is in the field.

"It's interesting how baseball's changed him," she says. "He's focused more now than ever. I see him concentrate more."

Daniel Williams umpires. He kneels behind the pitcher's mound, still wearing a neon green sweatshirt from his construction job. Williams was on the 2007 West End Reds team that went a championship in Florida. Today, he has kids of his own on the team.

"This whole thing is family," Jones says. "Sometimes people have hard times, and we all have to stick together. If the parents fail, the kids fail."

A loud ping. Aluminum bat meets ball. Infield fly to short. With it, a boy's voice rings out.

"I got it."

Want to help?

You can help the West End Reds continue to play by donating to the team's GoFundMe page here: http://www.gofundme.com/WestEndReds