Sorry, Adam LaRoche: Baseball Locker Rooms Aren't Daycare Centers

If Adam LaRoche is actually retiring because he can't have his 14-year-old son Drake trolling in his shadow every minute he spends at a ballpark, then someone needs to smack him in the head with a boat oar.

Look, I get the sentiment. During my 10-year stint as man-child in a professional baseball uniform, I played with plenty of guys who missed time with their kids. I've played with Latin players who left entire families back at home. Hell, I've played with Cuban players who didn't know if they'd ever get to see their families again!

A life in professional baseball can be a life separated from the people you love. But before you start playing the "Cat's in The Cradle," remember that a lot of other jobs take people away from their kids, too. Jobs that pay way less than $13 million-a-year, offer far fewer benefits than a Major League Baseball pension, and don't put you, your rug-rats, and the woman-or, in some cases, women-who gave birth to them up in five star hotels in a new major city every four nights.

As such, how about a little perspective, here? So your kid can't use your locker room as a daycare center. Boo-fucking-hoo. You can't have it all, Adam, but when you're a big league baseball player, you can come pretty damn close.

By the way, I'm not lying when I say that locker rooms become day cares. LaRoche isn't the first player to have his kid at the park for long stints of time. That's a common thing in baseball. If you have a little boy who wants to emulate daddy's greatness, you're darn toot'n sure that said kid is going to come to the ballpark. And players do get it. We're not monsters who hate children and families. The baseball world is practically built on father-son relationships, and MLB has a decorated history of fathers passing their torch onto their kids, with big league locker exposure at an early age playing a major role in talent development.

But let's not kid ourselves either: children are a distraction. Some of them can be straight-up hellions; sometimes, unruly behavior just the nature of being a child. Other times, it's not even their faults. Some of these kids running 'round locker rooms were sired by immature prima donnas that wouldn't know fatherhood if Andy Griffith explained it over a Boy Scout camping trip. These jokers can barely take care of themselves, let alone another human being.

What does that equation yield? A kid, in the clubhouse, unattended, going through lockers, breaking shit, crying when he's scolded because he's never been disciplined before.

This kind of thing puts the entire team in an awkward situation. If you don't want that one little maniac running around your locker room every day, slowly getting on everyone's nerves, then you can't let anyone else's kid enjoy the privilege, either. Even if the other kids are well-behaved little cherubs. Why? Because explaining the real reason behind why one kid has access and another doesn't is not a battle you want to pick. Not with parents in general, and not with big league parents in particular.

Based on the accounts of LaRoche's teammates and manager, Drake is a mature, well-behaved kid. And it's worth noting that the fallout from this has come from White Sox players taking LaRoche's side against management. That's why Chris Sale had a Drake LaRoche jersey hanging in his locker on Friday.

But even the good kids from good families can create unnecessary drama. When I was in the minor leagues, the children of one of our coaches came to visit every summer. They were in the clubhouse for months at a stretch. Early on, they stayed out of our way; but over time, they started taking liberties. Soon, they were trying to wrestle and roughhouse with us, and basically play in all our other reindeer games. And then it happened: I roughhoused a little too rough, tears were spilled, wailing ensued, and an hour later I'm in the manager's office hearing the words, "My son says I should release you."

Ah, Christ … What the hell just happened? What alternate dimension did I just fall into? Is this not the same coach who, just the other day, gave the team a lecture about mental toughness, about how we have to be committed to the grind if we want to make it to the top? Where was that guy, and who was this angry, protective dad who had taken his place?

I got off with a warning, and had to go apologize to his kid. I was sorry, of course. I didn't mean to hurt the boy, and, truly, he was a sweet kid. But should I have been in a conversation about the potential end of my career? When sweet kids have powerful parents, there can be powerful repercussions for innocent accidents.

Of course, I was just a minor leaguer at the time. And most minor leaguers are expendable. It's different in the majors. Even when we're talking about kids in the clubhouse, one thing that has always been true in baseball still holds true: when you're good, you get perks. And when you suck, you lose 'em. Some people think that the White Sox brass revoking Drake LaRoche's all-access locker room pass is directly connected to his father's shabby production last year.

Maybe. When a player is beyond amazing, a face of franchise and force in the game, they can get away with all kinds of stuff that an average or substandard player can't. But that doesn't mean they should. The White Sox aren't wrong for telling LaRoche to cut back on bringing his kid to the locker room, whether or not he's playing poorly.

The fact of the matter is that the locker room is an adult space, for adults that have earned the privilege.

Chances are there were players, coaches, and executives annoyed about the liberties LaRoche took with his kid coming in all the damn time, but simply sat silent until LaRoche's production slipped and he became mortal. Thus, new season = new leaf = your kid doesn't need to be here 100 percent of the time.

It has nothing to do with Drake, or with punishing Adam, and everything to do with what a locker room is meant to be—a workplace. It can be juvenile, fun, and look anything like work at times, but it's still a huge part of a player's routine. LaRoche recognizes this, too. In a statement he released today, he wrote:

"Though I clearly indicated to both teams the importance of having my son with me, I also made clear that if there was ever a moment when a teammate, coach or manager was made to feel uncomfortable, then I would immediately address it. I realize that this is their office and their career, and it would not be fair to the team if anybody in the clubhouse was unhappy with the situation."

Bottom line, if LaRoche wants to walk away because he wants to focus more on being a family man, that's cool. I respect that. He's made more than enough to provide for his family. He should enjoy his #familyfirst baseball afterlife.

However, if LaRoche is leaving as some sort of protest to the oppressive White Sox regime and their draconian rules on child-rearing, well, that's just a sorry first world problem that no one should shed a single tear over.

And honestly, while we're on the topic, why the hell would you want your kid in a major league locker room 100 percent of the time anyway? Is that really a good idea? I'm a grown man, and there are some things I've seen in there that I can't un-see. Try explaining why there is a box of porn in the handicapped toilet stall, or why your teammates are in there making out with women other than their wives.

Like I said, it's a workplace, but not always a mature one. There's no denying that unlimited access to a Big League clubhouse can teach your child a lot of things, but much of it is stuff you wouldn't want them to learn.