I came to the realization over the weekend that I’m officially done with youth sports.
With my daughters in college and my son heading to high school in the fall, we had our last youth sports activity over the weekend. Packing up the car in the pouring rain after spending all day at an out-of-town tournament, I realized that we are done. Our kids will no longer be a part of any youth sport organization.
As a parent of three, each of whom participated in a variety of youth sports at a variety of skill levels, I have seen youth sports at its best – best athletes, best coaches and best sport parents. I’ve also seen youth sports at its worst.
I’ve seen kids who were phenomenal athletes at a very early age. I’ve seen others who took a little longer to figure out how to work their rapidly changing bodies. I’ve seen the uncoordinated kid who stood on the sidelines grow into the exceptional high school athlete. I’ve seen the star youth player quit the sport because of burnout or because he peaked too early.
I’ve seen kids who have a natural talent for handling a ball. I’ve seen others who weren’t as skilled but who brought heart to a team. I’ve seen children develop into leaders.
I’ve seen the joy of children laughing together and being silly during practice or between games at away tournaments. I’ve seen incredible friendships develop as they played the game.
Sometimes, when looking across a field at a youth sports event, it’s hard to believe that the 6’2′ 195-pounder is of the same species as the 5’1′ 70-pounder. Same age, same gender, different maturity rates.
I’ve seen parents who worked very hard to support their children’s success. I’ve eaten more hot dogs than I want to admit.
I’ve made cookies, ordered T-shirts, served on the board, worked the concession stand, carpooled to away games, packed the coolers, sold raffle tickets, framed the team pictures, returned my 50-50 winnings back to the team and made lifelong friends while sitting in the folding chairs on the sidelines.
I’ve purchased sticks, balls, cones, cleats, cups, running shoes, orthotics, pads, helmets, sport socks, uniforms, sweatshirts, tournament T-shirts and more Gatorade than I can count.
I’ve seen coaches make it OK for that disappointed child-athlete whose mistake cost the team the game. I’ve watched coaches pull kids off the field when teaching the right lesson was more important than winning. I’ve seen incredible role models, moms and dads who volunteered their time and effort, and coaches who made a difference in my kids’ lives.
I’ve witnessed the collective excitement of an overtime win, the winning goal from a benchwarmer and the synergy of a group of children coming together to form a T-E-A-M.
Unfortunately, I have also seen some of the not-so-great aspects of youth sports.
I watched a mother spank her 7-year-old son after losing a wrestling match. I’ve watched dads be asked to leave the gym because they were disruptive. I’ve witnessed coaches demoralizing kids by screaming at them. I’ve been disgusted by adults who grab kids by the arm or the jersey or the facemask. I’ve seen kids standing on the sideline while the coach plays his own kid to exhaustion. I’ve watched a coach play a child who was hurt to win the game at any cost. I watched a coach angrily stomp into the stands during a game to ask a mother if her kid’s vision had been checked recently.
I’ve seen behaviors tolerated under the label of ‘coaching’ that would likely warrant the attention of Children and Youth Services if those same behaviors were witnessed in a home.
I’ve seen parents whose primary goal was to promote their own kid.
I’ve seen the thrill of a hard-fought victory. I’ve seen the tears after a tough loss.
This past season, I saw what youth sports are meant to be. The kids had fun at practice, worked hard on their skills, were taught lessons about pride and performance, and came together as a team despite a record level of rainfall and canceled games and practices. We had ‘Tacky Tuesday,’ when the boys won prizes for wearing their most outrageous clothing to practice. Coaches Chris and Chris effectively balanced competition with fun, and they understood how to motivate children. I don’t think it is a coincidence that both are teachers.
Interscholastic sports are different from youth sports in many ways. School teams have coaches who are paid, and most aren’t coaching their own children. There are PIAA rules and oversight by the school district. There are also mechanisms in place to manage the experience for players and fans. Unlike in youth sports, where everyone should have the same opportunity to learn and develop, not everyone gets to play in interscholastic sports – or even be a part of the team.
Playing youth sports has become almost a rite of passage in our cultural landscape. Youth sports are about having fun, learning a game, practicing skills and developing tools on the field that will help us later in life.
Like every parent milestone, the ‘last’ of anything is bittersweet. The last day at preschool. The last bus ride to the elementary school. The last day huddling under a pop-up tent on the sidelines of a youth sports event with friends and neighbors, watching our rain-soaked children try to win one more game.
The last of anything comes with sadness, relief, fond memories and lessons to take along the way.
