“Take Me Out to the Ball Game” isn’t exactly the tune that’s being whistled these days, at least not by parents who are finding themselves spending more and more time ferrying their kids to and from a seemingly endless number of practices and ball games.

“I spend every weekend going from practice to baseball game to practice to baseball game,” a mother of two boys said. “I’m sick of it and we’re not even in the middle of the season yet. It’s hardly American to be tired of baseball, but since when did it become the norm for parents to be too tired to go out on Saturday night because they’ve schlepped to so many baseball games during the day?”

Another mother I spoke to said she wishes her daughter’s soccer schedule was limited to the weekends. “She has three practices and one game each week,” the mother said. “It’s tough to just drop her off when so many of the parents have volunteered to coach or don’t want to miss their little Suzy playing. I feel bad for the parents who have a few kids playing in these leagues. They must have no life at all.”

According to a 2005 study released by the National Council of Youth Sports, there are a lot of parents with no lives: More than 41 million children participate in an organized youth sports program. While the number of Little League participants has actually slightly declined over the past decade, other youth leagues — such as soccer, lacrosse, football, and even skateboarding — have seen dramatic increases in membership.

“I remember playing baseball with all my friends in the neighborhood park,” a father of three boys said wistfully. “I wish my kids could do that. But they can’t. I view my son’s Little League as in lieu of a pickup game in the park. Sure, there are the fanatical parents on the sidelines, occasional insane coaches, awards ceremonies, and picture days — but sadly, it’s as close to a pickup game that they’re going get.”

There are still some parents, though, who despite the increasing efforts required, are happy to have America’s pastime, baseball, and other team sports in their life. After all, more than 2 million American children are trying to steal home base in Little League this spring.

“My son plays in a Little League, as well as a hockey league and a soccer league, and I’m so grateful for all the organized sports in his life,” a father of two said. “His coaches have taught him discipline and good sportsmanship and the importance of practice, and in a town of french-fry munching tubby city kids, I don’t take it for granted that he’s in great shape. He knows that if he wants to be in the starting lineup, he’s got to be fit and fast.”

He’s right. According to the American Obesity Association, more than 30% of children between the ages of 6 and 11 are overweight and 15% are obese. For adolescents between the ages of 12 and 19, more than 30% are overweight and nearly 16% are obese.

“My son has friends who spend hours in front of those Play Stations and the new Nintendo Wiis,” a father of three said. “I am so happy that my kid is busy throwing the ball around and studying the stats on Derek Jeter instead. He’ll take a ballgame on TV any day instead of ‘South Park.’ I know the leagues can get to be a bit much, especially when the kids are on the travel leagues, but the kids’ interest in these competitions is testimony to the fact that if parents put in the effort, kids would much rather be outside playing sports with their friends than messing around online with MySpace and Facebook.”

Another mother agrees that although the leagues are a poor substitute for what is really lacking in our children’s lives — less supervised, less structured outdoor activities — they are the best alternative parents can offer city children.

“I wish I could just shoo them into the backyard,” she said. “But I hear that even in the ‘burbs, where you can just open up your backdoor, the leagues are even more time-consuming. More crazy parents and more über-competitive kids.”

To all the parents complaining about spending their weekends on the baseball fields, game after game, I told them the same thing: “The next time you’re stuck on a field on a sunny May day, just think of me, stuck in the basement of Hunter or P.S. 6 at my boys’ chess tournaments, with an even more wacky parent group than you can imagine.”

They all felt better after hearing where I was stuck weekend after weekend. On those sparkling spring Sundays, those baseball diamonds sound pretty appealing.

sarasberman@aol.com