Excuse the personal reference, but it fits the subject of this column. It’s about kids and baseball, specifically kids pitching baseballs.

Jericho Scott pitches baseballs in the Liga Juvenil de Baseball de New Haven. That is, he pitched baseballs in that Connecticut youth league until league officials told him he could no longer pitch. They said he threw too hard — 40 miles an hour — and made it difficult for kids on other teams to hit him.

Jericho was 9 years old when he was banned in New Haven. He turned 10 last week. By next season, as a 10-year-old going on 11, he will undoubtedly throw even faster. But where will he pitch? Apparently not in the 8-to-10-year-old league that tossed him out this year.  

I asked Conor Cassidy what he thought of Jericho’s predicament. “They shouldn’t punish the kid for being good,” he said.

Conor was Jericho only a few years ago but even faster. “As a 9-year-old, I threw about 55,” Conor, now 13, recalled. No one told Conor he couldn’t pitch for the youth team he played for in Wayne, N.J.

I asked Conor about the velocity issue because I have watched him throw and hit baseballs since he was old enough and big enough to hold a bat and throw a ball. In fact, I pitched to him and caught his pitches in his earlier years. I did what any grandfather does.

Unfortunately, a child’s baseball life isn’t always as uncomplicated as a game of catch with a father or grandfather. Adults, both coaches and parents, too often get in the way. They do enough bad things to young baseball players, but this one goes beyond the usual interference. Tell a kid he can’t pitch because he throws too hard and they are afraid he might hit a batter and hurt him?

“He’s never hit anyone in three years, not one time,” Nicole Scott, Jericho’s mother, said. “They said he’s fast but accurate.”

“They,” Mrs. Scott said, are league officials, those who yanked the ball out of Jericho’s hand. They concede that he hasn’t hit batters, but he’s still too fast to play in their league.

I called Reynaldo Morales, the president of the eight-team New Haven league seeking his explanation for pulling Jericho off the mound. I spoke to Morales briefly, but our conversation ended before I could ask a question. Instead Mrs. Morales said her husband didn’t speak English very well and another league official would call me.

That official turned out to be Morales’ former wife, who is the league’s vice president. Her second husband, Peter Noble, is the league attorney. Unfortunately I didn’t get to speak to any of them, and Nilda Noble did not send the news release that she said she would via e-mail. 

Nicole Scott said Nilda Noble was prominent in Jericho’s abbreviated season. “She ripped the schedule up,” Mrs. Scott said, “and said, ‘You guys are out of here. Your whole team is done.'”

Asked why, she said, “You disobeyed direct orders by putting Jericho on the mound.”

Jericho’s team, Will Power Fitness, which had a perfect 9-0 record, was not allowed to finish the season. It was not allowed to participate in the playoffs, which began this week. The team’s last game was declared a forfeit – in its favor. When Jericho went to the mound to pitch, the other team refused to play and the umpire forfeited the game to Will Power Fitness.

Carlito’s Barber Shop, the second-place team, which had won the league championship the first three years, was declared the champion for this season and received the trophy that should have gone to Jericho’s team.

Jericho’s parents and the team’s coach believe Carlito’s is the cause of Jericho’s trouble. According to Mrs. Scott, Carlito wanted Jericho to play for it and would have allowed him to pitch. But Jericho joined Will Power Fitness instead.

“Only one team, Carlito’s Barber Shop, complained,” Mrs. Scott said. She also noted that Jericho plays with seven of Carlito’s players on an all-star team.  

Wilfred Vidro, the coach of Jericho’s team, said that when league officials banned the team from playing, it wanted to split up the players and put them on other teams.

“The parents disagreed,” Vidro said. “They said the kids wanted to be together and finish the season together.”

That scenario, however, was not to be.

In most instances, a kid who throws as hard as Jericho very likely has good control and won’t hit batters. If he doesn’t have good control, his coach won’t let him pitch, not because he might hit someone but because he will walk a lot of someones.

Saying that Jericho has thrown as fast as 47 miles an hour, Vidro said, “I’ve got other pitchers who throw harder, but when they get to a certain point I have to take them out.” He added that his two sons have batted against Jericho and have had no complaints.

When Conor was 9 years old, his father recalled, he pitched eight games and gave up one foul ball. 

“We eventually sent him up to play with the 12-year-olds, although he was only 8,” Dan Cassidy said. “It was a tough decision because he was not quite ready to hit or field at that level, but he just threw so hard that it was pointless to keep him down. I remember a lot of fear and genuine respect but no grumbling about him not being permitted to pitch.”

Nicole Scott said she and her husband, Leroy, considered moving Jericho up to an older league but decided against it.

“I didn’t really feel comfortable putting him in an older league,” Mrs. Scott said. “They’re 12 and 13. My older son plays on that team. I hear some of the things they say and do. Jericho was 9. I didn’t want him in that situation. There’s a big difference between 9 and 13.”

That’s why youth leagues are grouped by age, for physical and emotional reasons. In Jericho’s case, though, the adults were the childish ones.