A lost season: Inside a Baltimore City high school baseball team’s struggle

A baseball game was supposed to be played on a field in Baltimore on a Tuesday in late April. Had it not been for two straight white lines painted down the baselines, no one would’ve known.

Two high school varsity teams — Digital Harbor and Patterson — were scheduled to be at Latrobe Park in Locust Point for first pitch at 3:45 p.m. Around 3:30, two umpires strode toward the baseball field, then slowed down.

One umpire pulled out his phone. “Did Digital Harbor cancel today?” he asked.

His supervisor said he’d find out.

The areas where there should have been dugouts (or at least a bench) were vacant. The second-base bag waited to be planted in the dirt, sitting at a 45-degree angle, while patches of grass invaded the infield and the pitcher’s mound. A man walked his dog in center field. There were no baseball players in sight.

The empty tableau served as a perfect metaphor for an often unnoticed problem: While students at city schools may aspire to play sports, their opportunities are often limited, raising questions about whether young athletes without resources are being left behind. High school sports — often held up as a way to keep students engaged in school — sometimes become their own burden.

The umpire’s phone rang 15 minutes later, but by then the truth was obvious: Digital Harbor had forfeited because only seven players showed up for school.

What happened next underscored how difficult it can be to even get a chance to play — let alone succeed at — your chosen sport at a Baltimore City public school.

Digital Harbor’s season was canceled altogether, with the school district only offering vague explanations.

Baltimore City Public Schools did not make head athletic director Tiffany Byrd available for interviews. Baltimore City Public Schools spokesperson Sherry Christian said in a statement to The Banner: “Baltimore City Public Schools enforces rules regarding forfeits, with penalties that may include disqualification from championship contention and the loss of eligibility for the remainder of the season.”

The statement also mentioned the financial costs and resources “that are ultimately wasted when a game must be canceled due to an inability to field a team.”

That Tuesday game was never supposed to be the end; in fact, members of the Rams squad had seen it as a rebirth.

An unexpected finish

Bijyon Foster, Digital Harbor’s baseball coach, heard that his team would have to cancel the season before game time on April 28. The school’s acting athletic director, JaModd Bryant, said it was because of the team’s second forfeit.

Foster gathered the seven players who’d hoped to play that day. The mood in the athletic director’s office at Digital Harbor was somber as Foster informed them of their fate.

But Foster, who’d had no intention of coaching the baseball team until it became apparent there was no other option, couldn’t get over one nagging question: Why was the season canceled altogether? Digital Harbor began the season with 14 players and successfully played four games. What rule had been broken?

When asked what rule was enforced that resulted in the cancellation of Digital Harbor’s season, Christian pointed to Baltimore City’s Interscholastic Athletics Handbook, which outlines the minimum squad size required for participation in baseball.

Yet Digital Harbor’s baseball schedule featured 15 games. Only four of those games were played due to a variety of factors: rainouts, unplayable field conditions, forfeits by opponents, and an opposing school that dropped its program. Digital Harbor had forfeited only one game previously as a result of having too few players.

This was a devastating blow for a group of players who had taken extraordinary measures to save the season.

Finding his voice

Darius Brown had every intention of playing baseball as a kid. He just couldn’t afford it.

He played in the Gardenville baseball league for half a season. The cost of equipment and the trek via public transit from West Baltimore to East Baltimore made it impossible for him to continue. He played football and basketball in elementary and middle school, but couldn’t get his mind off baseball.

Finally, as a freshman at Patterson, he got to run out onto a ball field. Last summer, Brown transferred to Digital Harbor. Little did the 16-year-old junior know he would be tasked with saving the sport he loves at his new school.

“Honestly, I just saw the team kind of starting to go downhill, starting to struggle,” Brown said. “I was like, ‘Hey, I should start reaching out more so I can at least have a voice and Digital can fix what they can get fixed.’”

Foster, who had limited baseball experience, was asked to coach last season until the school found a replacement. They never did. In addition to being the school’s baseball coach, he is also the girls’ flag football coach and was the women’s basketball coach until he resigned this year.

Last season, the roster included eight seniors. This season, Foster had to rebuild the team from scratch.

He ended up with 14 players, 10 of whom consistently showed up. Three of those 10 missed one game against City College High School earlier this year; two were academically ineligible.

They had to forfeit.

“The biggest barrier right there at Digital is academics,” Foster said.

With inconsistent participation and Foster’s work commitments, the remaining players tried to make the best of their circumstances. Brown and his teammate Jerry Harris traveled to the Baltimore Urban Baseball Association’s (BUBA) facility in Pigtown at least four times a week.

Their player-run practices incorporated tee work, soft toss, baserunning drills and weight lifting. Still, Brown knew the team needed structure and instruction. They needed a coach who could push them to their limits.

A week before that April game, Brown was helping BUBA’s chief of programs and partnerships, Adam El Shazli, move equipment when Brown said they needed more support.

El Shazli used his connections from BUBA’s parent organization, The Diamond Collective.

“It was real fast. He instantly started making calls,” Brown said.

The collaborative nonprofit, co-owned by Ckori Jones Sr. and Ashref Elshazli, brother of Adam El Shazli, purchased the Pigtown facility that houses BUBA in January 2025, preventing BUBA’s closure. BUBA remains an independent nonprofit, but The Diamond Collective provides the home for its programming while expanding opportunities for youth through baseball and softball training, leadership development, academic support and career readiness.

By the end of that week, El Shazli, Jones, Foster and Andrew Wetlinger joined a Zoom call to discuss how to help the program thrive.

‘The students were driven’

Digital Harbor, in Riverside, and BUBA, in Pigtown, are 1.8 miles apart, a short 10-minute drive.

Yet none of the students have cars. They’d walk for around 40 minutes to get there. Some would scooter or bike to cut down the time. Others would take the bus.

“Sadly, it’s become a rite of passage,” Digital Harbor principal Mavis Jackson said. “The amount of energy that gets expended just to get to practice and going back, it hurts. In some ways, it builds some degree of stamina and a little bit more grit and determination.”

Because of Foster’s work-travel schedule, he’d missed a few practices. Digital Harbor’s students practiced with other baseball teams to get more instruction. Sometimes, they’d just practice with each other.

So they made a final plea.

Jones agreed to partner with Foster to coach. They even had a practice on April 27.

Digital Harbor is one of many public schools in the area that are struggling to maintain their baseball programs due to a variety of factors, including lack of interest, field access, maintenance and transportation.

“The students were driven,” El Shazli said. “Now, we need to build a structure around their motivation.”

‘It’s not my field’

As a kid, Jackson attended Waverly Elementary School, located across the street from Memorial Stadium at the time. On Orioles opening days, the school would let kids out early. She and her friends watched fireworks from their front porches. Others were ball boys at the stadium.

Her neighborhood, and every neighborhood she knew of, had ample baseball and softball leagues — and everyone played in one during elementary or middle school. Baseball was a way of life.

Times have changed.

Jackson has found that too many elementary and middle school kids across the city don’t have opportunities to play baseball and softball the way she and her peers did.

The Aspen Institute, a nonprofit focused on policy solutions to societal issues, has a “Project Play” initiative that provides insight into building healthy communities in sports.

According to the institute’s national State of Play report, kids ages 6-17 in homes with incomes over $100,000 were nearly twice as likely as kids in homes with incomes under $25,000 to regularly play sports.

Jon Solomon, research director of the institute’s sports and society program, said cities generally lack affordable opportunities, so families have to invest significant financial resources to find quality sports programs in suburbs far from where they live.

“Maybe their friends aren’t there. Maybe their parents can’t afford it,” Solomon said. “The more that we can invest where children are, like within their community, that’s how you’re going to grow access right where they are. The transportation pieces and the geographical pieces are pretty important.”

A 2024 report by Solomon’s team showed Baltimore’s youth sports scene was trending in the right direction thanks to Mayor Brandon Scott’s “Rec Rollout” campaign to increase investment in Baltimore City’s recreation centers and parks, and Under Armour’s “Project Rampart,” which provided city schools with uniforms.

Still, not everything is solved. Solomon said Baltimore’s declining tax base has limited how much the city can spend. In the 1980s, there were over 100 rec centers for nearly 1 million people in Baltimore City. As of 2024, there were 39 rec centers serving about 565,000 residents.

In 2017, per the American Sports Fitness Index, Baltimore had 3.3 ball diamonds for every 10,000 residents. That figure dropped to 2 in 2025, though the average for the United States’ 100 biggest cities is 1.6.

Field conditions are another battle. The baseball field — and the softball field diagonally across from it — is often waterlogged for days after it rains. The grass isn’t cut on a regular basis.

For the last two years, Jackson said a root was sticking out of the softball field across from the baseball field. She had to advocate to have it moved. The softball team now plays at Riverside Park because the Latrobe Park softball field was unplayable.

Alex Silverman, public relations officer for Baltimore City Recreation and Parks, said in an email to The Banner that the office’s turf district manager found no roots in the ground but did note the field experienced drainage issues after heavy rain. Silverman added that the department started a turf and field management team in 2023.

Jackson received email complaints last season from parents of an opposing team who asked her to spend money to help improve the conditions of the baseball field.

“I had to say, ‘It’s not my field,’” Jackson said. “I can’t even spend any money on the field. ... If it were my field, I would absolutely be investing in that.”

The responsibility for maintaining the field recently shifted. Christian said in an email to The Banner that Baltimore City Recreation and Parks maintained both fields until this year, when it was determined that the property line was split down the middle. As a result, Baltimore City Public Schools is responsible for the baseball field’s upkeep, while Rec and Parks is responsible for the softball field.

‘A dedicated space’

The Monday before Digital Harbor’s game, Wetlinger walked into BUBA and saw kids stretching before practice. After a few moments, they picked up their gloves and started throwing. The scene was the fulfillment of Wetlinger’s vision from a decade prior.

Back in 2016, Wetlinger couldn’t believe his eyes. He was in his first season as a volunteer coach at Digital Harbor. Every day, he watched players lug their aging equipment as they trudged a mile and a half to Swann Park (then the Rams’ home park).

He’d been inspired to make an impact in the community months after Freddie Gray’s death and the subsequent uprising in 2015. Baseball was his outlet. Digital Harbor was a few minutes from where he lived. He fell in love with the program, taking it to the city championship that year.

Still, the inequities were alarming. Most public schools in Baltimore don’t have their own baseball fields.

So he founded BUBA, a free baseball and softball training facility for kids. The goal was to address the disparities in field access, space and equipment for Baltimore youth, disparities that specifically affect minority athletes.

Since The Diamond Collective purchased the BUBA facility in January 2025, BUBA has held workshops on future careers in addition to health and wellness. It has even partnered with schools across Baltimore to use the space, helping some schools launch softball programs.

“We know a lot of these kids are not necessarily going to play in college or play in the major leagues,” El Shazli said. “But the idea is that they can use this game that they love or are interested in and really build themselves up in that game as a tool to make them more successful individuals, whatever that success is.”

The BUBA facility started an after-school program last November with Dunbar High School. Other schools, including Digital Harbor, participate, too.

‘We got seven′

Moments before the team’s first practice with Jones on April 27, Foster stood at the front of a makeshift classroom and started to count, pointing his finger at each of his Digital Harbor baseball players.

“We got seven,” he said.

Foster asked those in attendance about their teammates’ whereabouts. Two players hadn’t been seen at school. One player was taking the bus and was arriving shortly.

In the meantime, Jones walked to the back of the room and asked, “What’s your name?” The kid replied, before explaining his desire to attend Wake Forest. “What’s your name?” he said to the player sitting next to him.

A few moments later, Jones spotted a player walking through the warehouse doors toward the classroom. They had eight.

“On the hop! Let’s go! Come on, brother, you’re late!”

The player jogged to his seat. “What’s his name?” Jones said.

El Shazli stood before the team and introduced them to their new coach, Jones, who has over 20 years of baseball coaching experience, making stops at Riverdale Baptist School and Potomac High School.

“I know you’ve had the season and I know there’s been some difficulties, even with player recruitment and all that stuff,” El Shazli said. “We’re trying to change the fabric of what Digital Harbor Baseball is starting today.”

After a 10-minute speech from Jones, the kids grabbed their bags and walked toward the most intense practice they’d experienced all year. Over the next two hours, there were overthrows and drops. There were missed tags and whiffs. There were animated yells from Jones — followed by blatant eye rolls from his new players.

About 45 minutes after the team’s end-of-practice huddle broke, six players remained. Jones spoke about the kids’ character, intently watching the batting cage in front of him.

“Even if you look right now, they didn’t leave,” Jones said, staring at Brown in the cage as he swung and missed. “They had two-hour practice and you’ve still got guys still working. ... It’s easy after practice to be like ‘Glad practice is over.’ They’re still here. They don’t have to be here.”

Jones walked up to Brown’s cage. Brown hit a ball into the net.

“You’re looking good. I’ll see you tomorrow,” Jones said.

Hope not lost

About an hour before Tuesday’s game, Jones received a text from Foster in a group chat that included the El Shazli brothers, saying their efforts were for naught.

Eight days before the scheduled beginning of the playoffs, the season was canceled.

“It’s heartbreaking,” Jackson said. “My heart breaks more for them because ... they work so hard.”

Still, Jones arrived two minutes before the scheduled first pitch, wearing gray and green sweats with Diamond Collective branding and holding a Ziploc bag of peanuts. He opened the bag, popped a few into his mouth, and stared at the field. He was sad yet optimistic. Why?

“What’s interesting is that, shortly thereafter, kids started showing up to BUBA at The Diamond Collective to practice so they’re there now,” Jones said.

By 5:15, the training facility was nearly vacant. Two players swung in a batting cage. Two were lifting weights. And there was Brown, the only Digital Harbor player remaining, heading toward the batting cage to grab his bag.

He’d woken up that day thinking his program was getting a second chance. Yet as the day progressed, he realized the Rams wouldn’t have enough players.

Brown had hoped the previous day’s rousing speech and hard-nosed practice would be the motivation his teammates needed. It wasn’t quite that. But it was a glimmer of hope. A glimmer of optimism that next year, with the resources from The Diamond Collective and the help of his teammates to recruit more players, could be different.

“I’m hoping they just keep coming to BUBA, keep reaching out to any resources that’s trying to help out Digital Harbor baseball,” Brown said. “And just overall, just try to get my teammates to just keep coming. Just show up. That’s pretty much it. I’m just trying to do the best as I can, even as just one person.”