But that’s never going to happen, given the likelihood that I’ll never grow up. But, as a coach for my 9-year-old’s Mt. Airy AAA White Sox, I am still part of the game, and the game is still part of me, as I teach the finer points of baseball.

It is a great group of kids and parents and the fact that we are in first place is gravy. So what better way to juice up a playoff-bound youth league team than to get some instruction from a couple of guys who really know what's going on?

Anyone wondering whether the magic of major-league baseball has died only has to look in the eyes of the kids and parents squeezing into the elevator that will take them down to the tunnel leading to the field.

John Brazer -- the Phillies' "director of fun and games" -- leads us out onto the field, past the big puddle at the end of the tunnel and into the dugout. I daydream that, while I never made it to The Show, one of these kids just might.

As the boys soak in the joy of sitting where Thome, Lieberthal, Rollins, Abreu and crew call home, Phillies pitching coach Joe Kerrigan and bench coach Gary Varsho emerge from the tunnel.

Each instructs the kids on different aspects of the game with their own personalities.

Kerrigan, looking quite professorial in his spectacles, sits down in front of the pitchers, holds a baseball in his hand and begins speaking in a soft, studious voice.

Varsho, toting one of Jim Thome's signature black bats, is more animated, swinging the bat and verbally emphasizing each point with a lilting upnote.

"The most important pitch in baseball is the fastball," Kerrigan says, before tossing each kid the ball.

"How do you grip yours?" he asks Blancon. Same question for Andre Serrano, our starter, and Nathaniel Vahedi, the finest 9-year-old closer in the nation, whom we call Big Dog. And the same question for my son, Zack.

Each child shows a pretty good version of the cross-seam fastball I taught them.

"Very good," Kerrigan says each time. "Basically, there are two different grips."

"This is called the cross seam, with two fingers on top, with the pads of these fingers on the seam, and the thumb directly underneath to form a perfect triangle on the ball."

Helps you throw with better aim, says my son. Makes you throw faster, says Vahedi.

At the other end of the dugout, Gary Varsho is standing, instructing the rest of the team on the toughest achievement in sports -- hitting a baseball.

"Jim Thome has his leg way up in the air," says Varsho. "Before he actually goes to take a swing, he loads up."

Explaining the concept, Varsho tells the players that "before you throw a ball, you are not going to just throw with your arm. You use your whole body. The big thing is getting ready early enough, you don't want to be late. When I say early, I mean when the pitcher starts his windup."

After talking about the importance of keeping the bat head in the strike zone as long as possible, and that using a batting tee is a great way to teach good hitting, Varsho has a question.

"Pat Burrell is having trouble," Varsho says of the team's struggling left fielder. "We have to get him mechanically right."

"You know what? He just needs to trust himself and stay tall, with a little stride and go ahead and put the barrel on it. He tries to do too much too soon trying to catch up."

Speaking of hitting a baseball, on June 24 and 25, anyone making a $250 donation to the Richie Ashburn Memorial Home Runs for the Heart charity can take 20 swings at the Vet. Proceeds go to the American Heart Association.

From experience, I can tell you that this is just about as much fun as you can have with your clothes on. There is nothing like the exhilaration of spraying balls around the Vet. By my third time up at a recent media day, years of rust wore off and I was slashing the ball. The star of the day, though, was CN8's Leslie Gudel, who swings a mean stick that connects with everything pitched.