BOOTH AT BAT -- Name that game: Is it soccer? No, it’s T-ball!

One of my favorite memories is my son's first T-ball game. My side actually ached from laughing so hard.

Children no taller than the bats they were holding would repeatedly swing and miss a ball sitting perfectly still atop the "T." And after they hit the ball, they were as likely to run toward third base as first. I remember one player, looking like a bobblehead in his giant helmet, running so far past that base that his dad had to go chasing after him.

At a recent T-ball game between the Dodgers and Athletics at Sun Ray Park, the players have clearly been at it long enough to know which way first base lies. Some can even smack a good hit off a coach-tossed ball. But there is still a lot of unpredictable chaos to entertain spectators in the stands.

"For awhile it was more like watching a soccer game than a baseball game; you‘d have nine kids all running after the ball at the same time," says John Pearce. His son Adam plays for the Dodgers, and is in his second year of T-ball.

Pearce credits the Dodgers' coach, Ken Haas, with teaching the kids the discipline to hold their positions and not abandon the field to chase every ball. But Haas admits it has been a challenge.

"Kids this age have a hard time standing still," Haas says. "Baseball is not like other sports in which you're running around the whole time. There's a lot of standing around and waiting. So many kids get bored and leave baseball before they have a chance to learn the game."

Haas combats the low boredom threshold by making sure players are allowed to stay on base even in the rare instances they are thrown out. Since outs don't count anyway, and the inning isn't over until everyone has a chance to bat, Haas figures the kids might as well enjoy the thrill of crossing home plate. Or, the thrill of throwing themselves down and rolling across home plate in the five-year-old version of a slide. Or, the thrill of stopping dead on home plate and allowing the player blinded by a drooping helmet to crash into them from behind.

These what-will-they-do-next moments help with the boredom factor for parents. Because neither side can win, there is no drama to the game, no competition to get caught up in. Most every ball hit is missed by not one, but two, then three, then four players. Once it is finally chased down, it will not be thrown back without a coach shouting directions. Even then the throw will be off and then someone else will have to chase it.

On the plus side, there is little stress, no pressure, no parents complaining, no players crying - except from the occasional rough encounter with the ball.

One player on the Athletics took a ball straight into the stomach. He huddled over, as if considering whether to cry. "Nice stop!" called a coach, and the player straightened with a stoic nod. Already he's learning how to take one for the team.

The team aspect is one of the biggest draws for the kids, according to Pearce.

"Just wearing the uniform is a big deal to them," he says. "They get to dress alike and follow each other around. For the first time, probably ever, they're finding out what it's like to be part of a team."

The highest priority at this age, however, is learning the fundamentals: How to swing the bat, how to catch a ball with a bulky glove, how to "hustle" (no player, says Haas, should ever walk onto the field, they should always hustle).

While most pint-sized players are struggling to master these basics for the first time, there are a few kids who seem to have no trouble. According to Caryn Lambert, they're the ones with big brothers, who have played ball with them since they were old enough to stand up.

Lambert's son, Donovan, 7, is in his second year of T-ball, although he knew how to play long before he ever put on a uniform. His older brother, Branden Sparks, played in Ahwatukee Little League for six years and says, "I taught him everything he knows."

Donovan agrees, and says that even though T-ball is "really fun," it's not quite as much fun as playing ball in the backyard with his big brother. This sentiment is echoed by teammate Ayden Shields, 6, who has not one but two older brothers in the upper divisions of Ahwatukee Little League. When it's Ayden's turn at bat, he marches out with I-know-what-I'm-doing assurance.

Like Ayden, Donovan plans to play baseball for a long time. His mother says he's already had a few sessions with a private hitting coach, and knows how to "squish the bug," pivot his foot to get in the proper batting stance.

Lambert considers the expense worth keeping her boy enthusiastic about baseball.

"This keeps him off the video games," she says, adding that's one reason why she keeps all three of her kids involved with sports. "We got rid of the TV, we're too busy to sit and watch."

The boys' coach agrees that kids need to be encouraged "to get outside, play in the dirt, toss around a ball. That's what I grew up doing, that's how I want my kids to grow up."

Haas considers himself a "lucky dad;" he played baseball all the way through college and now his oldest son, Hunter, 5, considers baseball his No. 1 favorite thing in the whole world.

The Haas family moved to Arizona from New Jersey last fall, and Haas said one reason the family chose to buy a home in Ahwatukee Foothills was because his boss had a son who went to Williamsport with the 2006 Ahwatukee Dawgs, and raved about the caliber of Ahwatukee's Little League.

"So far, everything he said has turned out to be true," Haas says. "Everyone I've met is fantastic. This is a very well-organized league."

As the Dodgers v. Athletics game nears the end of three innings, many players are distracted by a dust devil that swirls near first base. Several stomp through it, letting a ball hit by Adam Pearce roll on by. When Adam gets to third, where his father is serving as third base coach, he slips his hand into his dad's.

Meanwhile, his teammate on second has completely lost interest and wanders off the field. He ignores all attempts by his coaches to get him to return to his base. Instead, he climbs up onto the bench in the dugout and demands, "Where's snack?"

Editor's Note: This is the second in a six-part series chronicling the development of youth baseball players - and their parents - as they move up the ranks of the Little League system. Ahwatukee Foothills resident and local Little League mom Teena Booth, whose son Evyn is an 11-year-old participant at Ahwatukee Little League, goes behind the scenes from T-ball to farm, minors to majors.