Behind The Diamond

The state of youth baseball is being poisoned by smoke and mirrors. What used to be a grassroots game built on mentorship, development, and a love for the grind is now being flooded by a wave of false prophets. These so-called gurus and pop-up club teams are selling kids and their families dreams, disguising self-promotion and monetization as player development. And the worst part is, many parents and players are falling for it.

Every week a new social media guru pops up with a flashy reel, a cage full of expensive equipment, and a kid swinging out of his shoes. They flood timelines with side-by-side swing breakdowns and catchy slogans that appeal more to the algorithm than to actual baseball logic. They speak with authority, claiming to be revolutionizing the game, but the question we should all be asking is simple. Who are you?

We have hitting gurus who were pitchers. Pitching gurus who were outfielders. Guys who played two years of junior college ball but suddenly know more about hitting than anyone in the room. They are making mechanical claims they never once executed themselves in a real game. There is a reason Baseball Reference exists. The receipts are out there. It is not to discredit people who did not play at the highest level, but it is a warning against pretending. You are not a guru if you were never even a student of the game. You are not a coach if you never actually coached development over performance. And you definitely are not helping kids if your only concern is your likes, follows, and next viral clip.

These gurus are teaching advanced mechanics meant for major leaguers to ten year olds who are still learning to sync their hands and feet. They are flooding cages with drills that look impressive in slow motion but are impossible to replicate in the game. And when the kid fails, they blame the game or the coach at his school instead of looking at their own approach. They never meet the player where they are. They never start with fundamentals. It is always advanced movement patterns, forced mobility, and exit velocity over a real swing that works in competition.

The problem is deeper than just poor instruction. These gurus do not care. They are not concerned about the confusion they create or the bad habits they are cementing. As long as the clip looks good, the background music hits, and the engagement goes up, their mission is complete. Player development has become content creation. That is not development. That is deception.

It is even more frustrating for real coaches who spend time building players from the ground up. We work through the ugly parts of development. We get kids who cannot hit a curveball yet, who struggle with timing, who are growing into their bodies. We break swings down, we build trust, and we stay patient. We do it the right way. Then that same kid goes to a guru for a few sessions, and now he is trying to mimic Juan Soto’s leg kick and exit velo numbers in a summer travel tournament, only to strike out three times and throw his helmet. And the parents wonder why.

It is not just the gurus either. The club team scene is just as broken. We now have national brands inviting kids to join for a weekend tournament just to boost their rosters. They never developed the kid. They never poured into the kid. But as soon as that kid commits to a college, the post goes up. Another signee from our program. Really? A kid you met two months ago and used for two tournaments? A kid who did his training, lifting, and grinding somewhere else?

This happens all the time. They cherry pick the best players and slap their logo on them. Then they tout rankings and trophies and win percentages. But those numbers mean nothing if you did not build the player. That is not coaching. That is recruiting. And there is a difference. Handpicking the most talented kids and rolling the balls out is not coaching. Coaching is what happens when you take a raw player and mold him into something more. When you get a kid to buy in to the dirty work. When you correct his bad habits and build him up, rep by rep, pitch by pitch.

These showcase teams are just as guilty of doing it for the clout. They care more about being called number one in the country than they do about actual development. And to make sure they win and keep those points up, they will ride one pitcher all weekend. They will overuse arms. They will bat the same kids in the top of the order no matter what. They are not worried about balance, rest, or sustainability. They are worried about a trophy that means absolutely nothing in five years.

And if they lose to a team like mine, they panic. We show up with a bunch of no name kids and beat these all star rosters by ten runs. Their coaches are dumbfounded. They cannot believe it. What they do not know is we had every one of their signs. We were relaying pitches from second base. Our hitters knew what was coming. And their coaching staff never picked up on it. They are too busy filming their shortstop’s smooth hands for Instagram instead of coaching the actual game.

We play the game the right way. We train hard. We teach awareness. We teach approach. And yes, we still bunt. We steal signs. We look for patterns. We grind every single day. But because we do not have a flashy name or a big social media following, we are dismissed until we show up and wreck shop. Then they are shocked. But they should not be.

We do not post kids unless it is about their work ethic. We do not put clips online unless they are earned. Our kids know that. They do not chase views. They chase results. They care more about hitting a double than going viral for a tee drill. That is how we build real players. Not overnight. Not in a private cage in front of a camera. But every single day through sweat, failure, and learning.

What needs to be said is simple. If you are in it for the views, say that. Do not call yourself a coach. Call yourself a brand. Call yourself a content creator. Call yourself the bank. Because that is what you are. You are taking money from families with no intention of doing right by their kid. And that is fine if that is your goal. Just stop pretending you are about development.

And parents, you need to be more aware. Just because someone has a following does not mean they are credible. Just because someone posts swing breakdowns does not mean they can help your kid. Ask questions. Ask for player references. Watch a full lesson. Pay attention to how they talk to the kid. Do they care? Are they listening? Or are they just showing off?

Your kid needs a teacher, not a salesman. They need structure, not gimmicks. They need a plan, not a punchline. If someone calls themselves a guru, they better have the proof to back it up. And if a club team claims your kid, they better have invested in him from the start. Otherwise, you are just being sold an illusion.

The game is being watered down by too many people trying to make a name for themselves rather than make a difference. That needs to stop. Real coaches are still out here. We are still in the trenches. We are still watching film, throwing BP, driving vans, and staying after practice. We are the ones getting texts from kids in college saying thank you for pushing me. We are the ones getting invited to weddings because we made a real impact. We are not flashy. We are not famous. But we are real. And that is enough.

So if you are a guru, prove it. Show us the work. Show us the players you built from the beginning. Show us your failures and how you responded. Stop hiding behind clips and buzzwords. The field never lies. Baseball will always reveal who is real and who is not. In time, the smoke clears and the mirrors crack. All that is left is truth.

And to all the real coaches out there doing it the right way with no glory, keep going. You are building something far greater than clout. You are building men. You are building players. You are building trust. The game knows. And the game rewards the ones who respect it.