The roar of the crowd wasn’t the loudest sound at Suplizio Field on Thursday. Instead, it was laughter — the kind only kids chasing dreams can make.
Over 120 local kids took to the diamond for the annual MLB Play Ball clinic in Grand Junction, where JUCO players from all 10 teams in this year’s World Series dropped their game faces and put on smiles instead. For two hours, it wasn’t about trophies. It was about teaching, connecting, and for some, remembering what it felt like to dream from the batter’s box.
A Grand Junction Tradition That Keeps Growing
It’s been two decades since the MLB Play Ball clinic first took root in Grand Junction, and by all accounts, it’s blossomed into something special.
“This is one of those events that doesn’t feel like work,” said tournament chairman Darren Coltrinari. “It’s just very important for these kids to interact with the players.”
The event has become a staple of JUCO World Series week, a moment when the stars of tomorrow pause and give their time to the dreamers of today.
Coltrinari’s seen it from both sides — as a coordinator and now, a dad. “My favorite part used to be watching the kids interact,” he said. “But now, with my own son out there, I get to see the players open up. About halfway through, they’re not just instructors. They’re buddies.”
“It Means the World”: Why It Matters to the Players
For the athletes, this isn’t just a PR stop.
Tripp Gann, an infielder from Shelton State Community College, summed it up in one sentence — or close enough.
“All these kids look up to us. I mean, we’re their heroes,” he said, catching himself with a chuckle. “When they come out here to us and talk to us, it just… it means the world.”
Gann wasn’t alone in that feeling. Around the field, helmets were swapped for high-fives. Tips on hitting turned into silly conversations. One kid wanted to know how fast Gann could run. Another just wanted to play catch.
And for a few of the players, the whole scene was a flashback — a full-circle moment.
Not Just Baseball — Life Lessons Too
Sure, the kids practiced hitting, throwing, and running. But they picked up a few other things too.
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Confidence: Some kids arrived quiet. They didn’t leave that way.
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Respect: Players modeled how to listen, encourage, and lead.
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Joy: It wasn’t forced. It was contagious.
One JUCO pitcher gently corrected a boy on his throwing form, then whispered, “You’ve got a cannon.” The boy’s eyes lit up. Later, that same pitcher sat on the grass, letting three kids use him as a base in a spontaneous game of tag.
No cameras were around for that part — just memories being made.
Inside the Clinic: How It All Works
The clinic’s setup is organized chaos in the best way possible. Here’s how it broke down this year:
| Station | Skill Focus | Coaches/Players |
|---|---|---|
| 1 | Hitting Mechanics | 3 |
| 2 | Throwing Accuracy | 2 |
| 3 | Base Running | 2 |
| 4 | Fielding Drills | 3 |
| 5 | Mini-Games & Fun | 4 |
Every 15 minutes, kids rotated through the stations, giving everyone a chance to try something new — or show off what they already knew.
One dad watching from the bleachers smiled and said, “This is better than any game.”
From Fans to Mentors in a Single Morning
These JUCO players didn’t show up to be superstars. But by the time they left, that’s exactly what they were — at least in the eyes of a few hundred parents and kids.
Some signed hats. Others knelt down to tie loose shoelaces. Many just listened, which is sometimes all a kid really wants.
One group of young girls circled a player from Wabash Valley College, peppering him with questions: “Do you like dogs?” “What’s your favorite cereal?” “Can girls play baseball too?”
His answers?
“Yes. Lucky Charms. Absolutely.”
They ran off giggling.
A Memory That Sticks Long After the Game Ends
By mid-morning, the field was quiet again. The bases packed away. The gloves back in bags. But something lingered in the air — the kind of lightness that sticks with you for days.
A 9-year-old named Julian wouldn’t stop talking about the player who helped him hit his first grounder past second base. “He said I’m better than his teammate!” Julian shouted, beaming.
Meanwhile, Gann, still in uniform, watched the kids trickle out with a soft smile. “They think we’re doing this for them,” he said. “But honestly, I think we get more out of it than they do.”
