There's a battle at the Boston Globe over how young athletes are treated when they haven't yet shown the ability to outperform their peers in sports (to which I was alerted by Minnesota Public Radio). It started with a column by Thomas Farragher, thinking back a decade to a traumatic football experience for his then 12-year-old son.
... with each minute that drained from the scoreboard, my blood pressure rose. ... I don’t recall who won. No one there that morning does. But after the game broke up, my young son and I headed for the parking lot and encountered a scene — a full 10 Octobers ago now — that remains seared into my memory.
A coach takes one of his small players aside — and the little boy is crying.
“What’s that all about?” I asked my son. “Paul didn’t play,’’ he told me. After a pause, he added: “And I didn’t either, dad.’’ And then my son, too, burst into tears. There have been few times in my life that I have seen brighter shades of red.
Farragher goes on to talk about how youth coaches should focus more on development than winning. The ensuing comments under the story follow the predictable pattern of whether such an attitude creates more positive, engaged human beings, or whether it creates the sort of everybody-gets-a-trophy entitlement mentality that results in, worst-case scenario, school shootings.
A more extensive response came on the Globe's own web site a few days later. It was written by Bill Speros, a columnist otherwise known as "Obnoxious Boston Fan." (Yeah, I can hear many of you already -- is there any other kind?) He was more blunt: if you're kid isn't playing, that means he or she isn't good enough (and he includes his own son, who lost his starting football spot as a senior to a sophomore).
It sucks when your kid isn’t playing. Been there, done that. No reasonable parent wants to see their child hurt. But no one escapes this life unhurt, emotionally if not physically.
When these kids move on in life, they are going to get rejected when they apply for college, turned down when they ask out someone for a date, fail to get the job they want, the shift they want at work, and taste failure and disappointment on multiple fronts.
Speros goes on to talk about how difficult it is for parents to accept that their kids aren't good at everything, and that they need to learn that. The ensuing comments under the story follow the predictable pattern of whether such an attitude creates more positive, engaged human beings, or whether it creates the sort of everybody-gets-a-trophy entitlement mentality that results in, worst-case scenario, school shootings.
There's much right and wrong from both Farragher and Speros. As a youth coach at the 12-and-under level, I would never tell a player he or she isn't "good enough." Despite what many might believe, it's still too early to tell. I do make sure everyone plays more or less equal time. However, I also know that the kids want to win. (The no-score leagues aren't to make the kids feel better -- they're designed to relax the parents.) I also try to shuffle my lineups and playing time so the kids have the best chance to succeed. They want equal time, but they're also much more excited at practice -- and easier to coach -- after they win.
Even though I wasn't asked, I'll referee this battle between non-obnoxious and obnoxious Bostonians, and tell you the least traumatic way to handle things when your child is deemed "not good enough."
1. Farragher is right when he says even up to the middle-school level, the focus should be on development more than the final score. That's because your child should try a lot as many activities as you can handle financially and otherwise -- sports, theater, music, cosplay, whatever. By doing that, you and your child can best figure out what activities they like -- and where they are most likely to succeed.
2. Speros is right that life is full of disappointment. Though children are well aware of that long before high school sports -- presumably, as a parent you've said no to your child repeatedly -- by high school they know, and you know, it's time to be honest about where their strengths and weaknesses are. Everybody doesn't get into Harvard.
3. If, as I pointed out in No. 1, your children have tried different activities, by the time they get to high school, they will have a strong sense of what they enjoy, and where they will succeed -- and might even decide to give up something even though they're successful in it. My 15-year-old daughter was an all-star softball player up through junior high, but decided she preferred theater and speech once she got to high school. This decision-making may happen even earlier. My sixth-grade son, who as recently as fifth grade talked endlessly about how he was going to the NBA, is now not so sure about basketball because he's getting more positive responses for his work in theater, including being called up as the only elementary student in a junior high production of "The Music Man." Yes, he is Troy from "High School Musical," though as his father and longtime basketball coach, I've had to assure him I'm not overbearing about hoops like Troy's dad/coach.
4. However, it could be that your child chooses an activity in which he or she doesn't shine but does it anyway. In that case, as a parent, it's time to have a talk with your child to temper his or her expectations (or yours as a parent), or to find out why your child remains interested. My 17-year-old son plays safety for his high school football team, though it's more accurate to say he practices it -- he only gets into games during blowouts. However, he enjoys the practices and the camaraderie, and he still got his name on the 2013 state championship runner-up trophy. He told me he realizes his role is to be the best scout-team player possible to prepare the offense, so while he'd love to play more, he doesn't get too broken up about it. If your child isn't playing, maybe there is another reason he or she is excited about participating. They might not be "good enough," but that might not matter.
One thing I've learned as the parent of four children: By the time your child is 13 years old, he or she will choose an activity or interest that you would have never picked in a million years, one that may completely confound your expectations, but that they seem to enjoy immensely. What that activity is, and how you handle it, will go a long way toward determining the dynamics between you and your child.
