What I Write Down During a Youth Baseball Game

During youth baseball games, I let the app track the score and use my notebook for the human data: faces, failed drills, invisible players, and one actionable line per kid.
What I Write Down During a Youth Baseball Game

The box score is not the useful data

I do not write down the score. I write down the moment a player's face changed.

The iScore app handles the box score. My notebook handles the human data. I mark when Tuur sulked after a strikeout, when William's eyes lit up on a hard contact, when Nikky hesitated on a throw to first.

Those are the inputs that determine tomorrow's practice, not the 3-2 count in the fourth inning.

Tracking which drills actually showed up

I look for transfer: did this week's drills show up on Saturday?

If we spent Wednesday on cut-off throws and nobody executed one on Saturday, the drill failed. Not the players. The drill.

I write that down in one short line, usually something like:

I wrote about this earlier in The lineup I got wrong.

cut-off drill → no transfer to game. Try live scenario next week.

That note is more valuable to me than any batting average. It tells me what to change next week instead of repeating the same gap.

Writing down the invisible players

I note the ghosts: kids who were there but invisible to the stat sheet. Aram and Arpi, who missed the Heja registration and did not appear in the official roster but stood in the dugout and cheered. The subs who got two innings and no at-bats.

The stat sheet says they did not play. My notes say they were there.

This matters when I build next week's lineup because morale is a real input, even if it is not in the algorithm.

One actionable line per player

I do not write report cards. I write instructions.

The rule is simple: one actionable item per player. One sentence, not a paragraph. For example:

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  • Tuur: needs a harder drill; he is bored.
  • Nikky: shortstop only, no first base.
  • William: feed him more confidence, he is better than he thinks.

I am not rating them from one to five. I am not writing a paragraph of “good effort” or “needs to focus.” Anything longer becomes a narrative. I need instructions.

Faces, not just plays

The moment a player's face changes tells me more about their development than the outcome of the play.

When Tuur sulks after a strikeout, I write the inning and the reaction, not the pitch sequence. When William's eyes light up after hard contact, I note that too. When Nikky hesitates on a throw to first, that hesitation is the interesting part, not whether the runner was safe or out.

Stopping after the third inning

I stop writing after the third inning.

The first three innings are diagnostic. The last three innings are living. If I am still scribbling in the sixth, I am not watching the game; I am auditing it.

Read also This week on richardlemon.com — July 17, 2026.

So the rule is: notebook closed after the third. From that point on, I coach from observation, not from analysis.

The notes are for the car ride home and the Wednesday practice. The game itself belongs to the players.

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