GolfHos

WAYNE, N.J. - She wraps her arms around her son, gently raising the spindly 14-year-old boy off a couch to his feet. She hugs him and rubs his back, whispering "I love you" over and over.  Steven Domalewski moves his head to kiss his mother, but all he can manage are slurping sounds in front of her lips. His head flops onto her shoulder, spent from the effort.

Less than two years ago, Domalewski was a happy, healthy star pitcher on a youth baseball team coached by his father. He loved martial arts, climbed every tree on the block and zoomed down his street on inline skates. He once shot an arrow into the wall of his basement rec room.

Now Domalewski is severely disabled, left with brain damage after being struck in the chest by a line drive that stopped his heart while he was playing in a youth baseball game....

Domalewski was pitching, on the mound 45 feet from home plate. He wasn't a hard thrower, but he had excellent control. In the fourth inning, the first two batters reached base. He went to a full count on the third batter.  What happened next unfolded in a flash, but has resulted in an agonizing, slow-motion purgatory for Steven and his family.

The batter rocketed a shot off a 31-ounce metal bat. The ball slammed into Steven's chest, just above his heart, knocking him backward. He clutched his chest, then made a motion to reach for the ball on the ground to pick it up and throw to first base.  But he never made it that far. The ball had struck his chest at the precise millisecond between heartbeats, sending him into cardiac arrest, according to his doctors. He crumpled to the ground and stopped breathing.

His father, a school teacher who had been on the sideline, and a third base coach from the other team ran onto the field. Steven already was turning blue.  Someone yelled, "Call 911!" Within 90 seconds, a man trained in cardiopulmonary resuscitation who had been playing catch with his 9-year-old daughter jumped the fence and started to work on Steven.  Paramedics, who were a quarter-mile away doing a CPR demonstration, arrived within minutes. They placed an oxygen mask over Steven's face and rushed him to a hospital. But the damage had been done; his brain had been without oxygen for 15 to 20 minutes.

"Pretty much, he died," Joseph Domalewski said, wiping away tears. "It was just so fast. The thud, you could hear. When it hit him, that seemed to echo."

I didn't read the whole article but does it mention about a chest plate that can be worn to protect against this?

mound is too close for kids nowadays, at least at the top 25% level above age 10 or so.

if they can wield a bat heavier than about 26-27oz  or pitch above 60+mph,  it's time to size up  with modern equipment.

I agree.  The form of little league we played did a great job of keeping up with mound distance.  I can't remember the exact numbers but I know 12 year olds were at least 50 feet away probably more.  I know our mound was a lot farther than the televised little league WS BS they call baseball.