As a Little League player in Long Beach, Calif., I was just one of the guys, nothing phenomenal. My fondest memory, though, was making the All-Star team as a 12-year-old. Batting second and playing center field, I got two hits, but we lost the first game and never made it out of our region. But it was pretty cool getting a star to put on my hat.

I didn't start playing Little League ball until I was 10, after we moved from Los Angeles to Long Beach. I remember being scared to death, wondering if I could compete with the other players.

	It was always special for Tony Gwynn to put on his baseball uniform.

My first Little League coach, Nick Ortega, had the biggest influence on me as a young player. I always give him the credit; he didn't have to take the time like he did, but he simplified things and taught the fundamentals. That is where I got the idea that baseball is easier to understand when it is simplified.

Because I am left-handed, I started out as a first baseman. I had never played the infield before in my life. Growing up as a Dodger fan, I thought, "OK, I'm Wes Parker." But I had no idea how to play first, how to cover the bag or how to put my foot on the bag the right way.

I remember making a nice play in my first game at first base. The coach gave me a pat on the back and said, "Nice play, rook." As the season went on, he started to realize I was pretty good. We had 16 players on the team, and only a few would play every inning. By the end of the season, he started me at first base and then moved me to center field.

I was always a pretty good hitter. At first, I didn't know what I was doing, but I could always hit the ball. I was the same sort of hitter -- never pulling the ball and always going the other way.

Little League was a little different by the time my son, Anthony, played in Poway Little League nearly 10 years ago. The game and the players had evolved. The pitchers seemed to throw harder and were bigger, stronger, faster and quicker. Anthony, now entering his junior season at San Diego State, had a clue about the game because he had grown up in a baseball environment. But I didn't. I had no knowledge other than what I saw on TV.

When I played, there was an unwritten run that we were supposed to play the game the right way and never show up an opponent. But now there is much more showmanship in Little League. I saw a scary sight Tuesday night when a Little League player pointed to the center-field fence like he was going deep.

It goes to show how much influence the major-league players have on young players. People may think it's OK to point to the fence because it happened in a Little League game. But in terms of showmanship, I wonder if the major-leaguers are setting the right example.

When I arrive in Williamsport this week, Harold Reynolds and I are holding a clinic on Friday -- and showmanship will be addressed. It's important for the kids to realize that game has a lot of history, and for most of it, the game was played the right way. Kids need to understand that they shouldn't show up the other team. They just need to play to the best of their ability, play it the right way and have fun.

Little League has become so much about winning. When I see one team jumping up and down and the other team crying its eyes out, I begin to wonder. There seems to be something wrong. The game is supposed to be fun. You try to win the game, but there are lessons to be learned whether a team wins or loses.

I think back to when I got my first Little League uniform. I felt like a big-league ballplayer. I had my pants and my stirrups. I used to love putting on the uniform and going to the ballpark. That part hasn't changed. But the way the game is played has. I have seen a lot of things, and I don't know if it's all good.