Monday, May 10, 2010

Youth Sports Revisited: The Dark Side

This Saturday was another day of athletic excitement in our family. My wife dropped my older son and I off at his game, then took my younger son to his T-Ball game. I, once again, experienced a deep tranquility due to the game. Although this time, our team lost, by a lot. I realized, however, that one of the glories of baseball is that one can excel even if his team is lousy. This hasn't always been true in my sons' athletic experience, but that's another story. So, my son played an excellent game. He was up at-bat two times and got two hits. One was an electric line-drive double to center that drove in a run. In the field, he was a stud. He was the only player on his team to record three put-outs. These came on crisp grounders to short-stop (where my son plays). He cleanly handled the grounders and ran to third twice to beat a runner there. The other time he fielded the ball and raced to second for the out. My pride in my son's athletic achievement is both appropriate and laudable. Such support will, no doubt, build my son's confidence and help him in future endeavors. Sadly, though, my pride (and love/support etc.) probably represents the only laudable thing about me on this game day.

Now, I will examine the Dark Side of youth sports as experienced by me. Primary among the factors that lead me to the Dark Side (and sadly, this happens in just about every athletic venture in which my sons compete) is a feeling of universal injustice. Take last Saturday's game, for instance. The team that we played was HUGE. Clearly, their coaches had a very liberal understanding of the rules vis-a-vis an 8-Under League. The oldest child should be eight to compete in these games, and the opposing team was clearly made up of children older than eight. Their first base-man, for instance, was about 6'2 with a goatee. (He was actually closer to 4'11, but that made him head and shoulders taller than anyone on our team). The opposing team's catcher was not so tall, but he probably weighed as much as four of our players. And you shouldn't picture a jolly, chubby boy, but a solid, lumbering wall of (at least) nine year-old muscle. They had various other players who, although they were only an inch or two taller than our tallest player, were way better than all but a few of our players (yes, my son is one of those few, and, yes, I am vigorously patting myself on the back). The disparity in terms of size (and skill) always leave me feeling cheated by the experience. What does the father of an eight year-old need to do to find a fair game for his child? Sign him up for a pre-school league, maybe. Many could argue that our team needs to practice harder or more frequently (and invest in some powerful growth hormones), but even that might not do the job, so pervasive and complete is the injustice surrounding youth sports
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I coached my older son's basketball team when he was in first grade and served as an assistant coach this year. Neither experience did much to allay my sense of worldly injustice. Every team that we played was more skilled and much bigger than our team. And basketball is a game in which it is difficult to excel individually if the team lacks the talent to, for instance, move the ball past half-court. This leads to an unhealthy individualism. I would tell my son as we played basketball at home, "your team has difficulty dribbling/passing/shooting/moving without the ball/functioning, so let's work on some individual moves so that you don't have to ever pass the ball." This is not the message that parents should be sending their children. Wouldn't it be better, if one said, "basketball is a team sport; let's work hard to make your team as good as it can be." But I don't say that. And that is one of the dark sides of youth sports. One wants their child to excel (particularly if one spends an inordinate amount of time playing sports with one's child). Less skilled team-mates are an obstacle to this goal. Rather than teaching my older son to work better with his team-mates, I am teaching him ways to succeed despite his team-mates. Luckily, my boys are very sweet. They are not disdainful of less-skilled team-mates and the individualism that I am teaching regarding sports does not spill over into the rest of their lives. But at what point, will this change? When do I need to start a team-focused approach to athletics (even when the team isn't very good)? Maybe we should stick to tennis.
I am not alone in my sentiments. On Saturday, I was standing in our dug-out, watching the game with two other fathers. My older boy scooped a well-hit grounder and turned to throw the ball to the second baseman, who, as opposed to covering second base awaiting my son's throw, was slowly spinning in circles, looking at birds. "At this level, it might make more sense for your son to simply run the ball to the base," a father suggested to me in an even tone. What he was probably thinking, because I know that I was, was 'OUTRAGEOUS!!!! How was the second baseman not covering the base???!!!!!!!????? If he/she wants to spin, he/she needs to spin on their own time. NOT DURING THE GAME!!!!!!!!!!!!!' Another father, describing the strategy employed by his son's basketball team, said, "we would give the ball to my son, and the other players got out of the way." Sounds like I've found a basketball team for next year. Success over team-work. Victories over giving less-skilled children a chance to play. Sounds perfect. Of course, it isn't perfect. But once one's turned to the Dark Side, what can one do?

Another sinister element of Youth Sports concerns time commitment. This doesn't involve the adoption of skewed world-views as discussed earlier. Time-commitment is merely a weight that every parent committed to their children's athletic success needs to bear. Take tennis, for instance. On Tuesdays, I used to take my boys to the 4PM-5PM tennis lessons (for 7-12 year-olds). Yes, you heard that right. My five year-old is in a tennis class for 7-12 year-olds and, again, that is the sound of my patting my back. It was quickly clear that my eight year-old was too good for this group, but the next level class is from 5PM-6:30PM. Did I really want to spend 2 and a half hours watching my boys' lessons? Last week, I did just that. I am embarrassed to admit it, but I had a wonderful time doing it.

As I've made abundantly clear, I love sports. I love playing sports with my boys, and I love watching them play. This requires my becoming invested in youth sports teams. On the surface, one might not consider this a harrowing venture. But such an assumption would be faulty. For, any venture into youth sports requires a visit to the Dark Side.

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