From Matlack to Marte: Inspiring Generations, One Little Leaguer at a Time

There’s a little pocket of baseball heaven in Commack, Long Island, tucked right into the middle of a neighborhood where the houses have front porches, the sprinklers arc lazily across lawns, and the air smells faintly of someone grilling hot dogs two streets over. The Commack North Little League complex isn’t flashy. It doesn’t need to be. Like the game itself, it’s perfect in its simplicity a diamond, a few weathered bleachers, a few scoreboards , and kids with gloves that are probably still a little too big for their hands.

I know these fields well. I coached my son here for more years than I can count, logging more hours in these dugouts than some big-leaguers spend in their own. I’ve seen the way the sun hits the outfield fence on an August evening, the way parents lean on the chain-link with their scorebooks (pre game changer) and Dunkin’ iced coffees, and the way baseball turns kids into dreamers.

Today, those dreams got a jolt of pure Mets magic. Starling Marte — yes, "that" Starling Marte, two-time All-Star, Gold Glove winner, number 6 in your Mets program came back to small-town America for a clinic with the Commack North Little Leaguers. Three hundred-plus kids, ages 8 to 13, showed up in uniforms that may or may not have seen a washing machine since the Fourth of July Tournament. They came ready to hit, run, field, and most importantly to soak up every second in the orbit of a real live major leaguer.

The day started with drills: grounders gobbled up on the infield dirt, pop flies climbing into the blue summer sky, baserunners churning up dust as they tore around the bases. The stations were manned by former Commack North alums now high school players who looked at these kids the way older siblings look at the younger ones: part pride, part “man, I used to be that small.”

And then came the main event: the Home Run Derby. Not just "any" Home Run Derby. This was Starling Marte himself on the mound, lobbing pitch after pitch to the kids. And when I say “lobbing,” I mean the perfect, gentle, sweet-spot pitches that only someone who truly loves the game and understands what it means to an 11-year-old can throw.

Every swing was a story. A story of a kid pretending he was in the bottom of the ninth at Citi Field, the crowd roaring, Keith and Gary losing their minds in the booth. When a ball cleared the fence, the cheers could have powered Citi Field’s lights. The smiles? Forget it. They weren’t just smiles; they were beacons. They could’ve been seen from Flushing. And sure, I could have done without the bat flips but hey, time marches on, and if that’s how kids celebrate these days, at least they’re still swinging for the fences.

What made it more special was that Marte wasn’t just doing the ceremonial “pop in, wave, and leave.” This was one of his nine count ’em, nine off-days in the grind of a 162-game season, and he spent it "here". All in. Every autograph signed. Every selfie snapped. He sat for a Q&A, answering questions that ranged from “Who’s tougher to face — Zack Wheeler or Paul Skenes?” to “Who’s the best hitter in MLB?” (By the way, his answers — Wheeler and Shohei Ohtani — might spark some debate, but I respect his conviction.)

It was pure Americana. A perfect slice of a perfect summer day, the kind that makes you think maybe just maybe that not everything changes. Sure, we live in a world where kids have iPads in their backpacks and know more about launch angles than batting averages. But the wide-eyed awe of standing in front of a big-league ballplayer? That’s timeless. The magic of hearing the pop of a glove and the crack of a bat on a warm August afternoon? That’s eternal. It took me right back to when I was 12 years old, standing along the curb as Jon Matlack the tall, left-handed Mets pitcher, and larger than life led our Mayfair Little League Opening Day parade. The faces I saw in Commack today were the very same ones I remembered from that day decades ago, full of wonder, excitement, and the belief that anything was possible with a bat and ball in your hands. My photo with Jon Matlack is long gone, but the feeling hasn’t faded. And even though I’ve interviewed Starling numerous times, the setting pulled me straight back to that 12-year-old kid so of course, I just had to get a picture with Starling.

As I drove away from the complex, I found myself reflecting on the countless hours I spent here with my son the games won and lost, the long lines for ice cream that were always worth the wait. I thought about how someday, some of these kids will be the ones coming back to throw batting practice or run their own clinics. Maybe, years from now, one of them will stand on the mound at Citi Field, look out into the stands, and remember the day Starling Marte pitched to him in the Home Run Derby at Commack North.

Before I left, I had to tip my cap to those who made this day possible. FlexWork Sports a premier event management and sports marketing firm that’s brought youth camps led by pro athletes to over half a million young players and fans across 40 states and 13 countries since 2017 ensured every drill was seamless and every kid walked away beaming. And a heartfelt shout-out to Justin Oland of Commack North Little League for bringing FlexWork in and making sure this Mets magic landed right here on Long Island. It’s teamwork like this from the pros on the field to the organizers behind the scenes that keeps the timeless spirit of baseball alive, inspiring generations of kids to dream big and swing for the fences.

And you know what? That’s baseball. That’s why we love it.