The Perils of Coaching Kid Baseball

Recently I took on the responsibility of coaching my son's baseball team. The team is made up of 2nd graders of varying skill  from around the neighborhood. They are about what you'd expect, a bunch of sweet, goofy little people. They also are driving me nuts.

I understand and appreciate that they are learning, and I don't care that they drop pop ups and make bad throws, but I hate, hate, hate it when they aren't paying attention, and doing things like:

-Kicking dirt all over the place so a big cloud of dust forms and everybody chokes
-Staring at the sky for no good reason
-Picking up the base every time it gets one grain of sand on it
-Covering the base in sand and nearly getting crushed in the tiny testicles because you weren't watching when a ball came at you.
-Yanking out handfuls of grass in the outfield and stuffing it down their pants
-Excessive, unrepentant belching
-Whining about wanting the game to be over after 3 pitches in the 1st inning
-Wearing your glove on your head
-Holding the ball and staring at it while all your teammates, fans, coaches, umpires, and the seedy guy drinking Mickey's grenades at the picnic table are screaming at you to throw it in.
-Watching a ball drop two inches from you and not even attempting to pick it up
-Choosing "into a stream behind the bench" instead of "2nd base" as an appropriate place to throw the ball.
-Using your bat as an axe and whacking it against trees
-Not knowing where left field is still, even though you've played there 15 times already in the last 2 weeks
-Asking if we won right after we lost 8-0

I know, I know, they're little. We're working with them. They'll get better. I just have to stave off the impending insanity until they do