Sports and Parenting
Hold my Gatorade
Hey, you. Did I ever tell you about the time I rushed a soccer field and told a kid, “if he ever talked to my son like that again, a red card would be the least of his worries?” It wasn’t my finest moment. I let my anger get the best of me. It was like an out of body experience. I could see myself rushing the field and sternly disciplining this child, who clearly had no checks and balances about his attitude out side of the game. The most shocking thing of all is no one tried to stop me. Everyone just stood by and watched it all go down. It’s embarrassing to think about it now, which is why I probably never mentioned it to you…that…and the fact that it never happened. I mean it did happen…but only in my mind.
My son is apart of the American Youth Soccer Organization and this summer our region decided to have pick-up games once a week. Basically a bunch of kids and a few coaches get together, divide into teams and play The Beautiful Game for a couple of hours. Given the variety of kids that show up the teams are split by numbers rather than age so it’s a mixed bag. There are older kids, young kids, skilled kids and novice kids. Usually it’s fun, a little hot maybe but fun. My son usually walks away sweaty and gross but with a smile on his face, but not that day. That day he meandered off the pitch with a heaviness that a parent picks up on immediately. My brain started guessing at what could have caused his melancholy. The team he was assigned to only one 1 out of the 3 games played, could that have been it? Normally he doesn’t let a loss bring him down but he was only 8 after all. Perhaps it wasn’t sadness but exhaustion. He hosted a friend for a sleepover the night before and they were up late playing and up early for soccer, could that have been it? When I saw his watery eyes, I got a sneaky suspicion that it was more than that. I took him aside and started to feel him out. He let me know right away that he wasn’t upset that his team lost, which indicated something specific happened. I asked him, “Did Redacted Name of Kid say something to you?” He fell silent and nodded his head slowly. I could feel the Mama Hulk in me starting to tear at my clothes but instead I took my son away from everyone, sat with him on the grass, and let him vent.
Let me be clear, sitting and chatting with my son was the last thing I wanted to do. When someone hurts your kid’s feelings you want so badly to interfere. You want to make it right. All your childhood memories of being rejected come flooding back to you like a great emotional tsunami and you just want to save your kid from that kind of heartache. See that’s the difference between a Mama Bear and a Mama Hulk. Mama Bears operate on instincts and gut feelings to protect their children from danger or predators. Mama Hulks are a lab experiment gone wrong, when neurons wired together from unresolved trauma experiences are suddenly triggered.
After a few deep breaths my son opened up to me about what happened. Redacted Kid Name shouted for my son to pass him the ball but my son knew he didn’t have a good angle to make a good pass, so he didn’t. He didn’t want to risk the ball being stolen by the opposing team. When he chose not to pass the ball, Redacted Kid Name said some awful words to my son. My son continued, “I wasn’t trying to keep the ball I just didn’t have a good angle. Then he yelled at me. But we were on the same team!” That’s what hurt him the most. Someone from his team turned on him. Redacted Kid Name is not a skilled player. So you understand that there’s no bias here, he’s not a novice player either. He has potential to be a good player but his ego won't let him. In this kid’s mind there is no better player on the field than him. He’s NOT a team player. He’s NOT a player that passes to his teammates. He’s NOT a hustler. He’s NOT someone who helps his teammates defend. He IS a mediocre player who only wants to score because he needs the glory. He’s the type of player who isn’t satisfied if someone else from his team scores because he wasn’t the one to get the goal.
We all know this kid. It’s the child that’s told how amazing they are at everything they do, with no specificity. If something doesn’t go their way, they’re not asked to look within themselves to see if there’s something to learn from it. They are not asked to see if there’s something they can adjust on their end for a better outcome next time. They are often told what they want to hear because a parent doesn’t want them to experience disappointment. Accountability and responsibility happens outside of themselves. A loss has to be at the hands of someone else because when you’re amazing, it just can’t be your fault.
Disappointment is unfortunately a necessary evil of parenting. My son’s encounter reminded me about an incident that happened with his sister 12 years prior. Her dad and I were watching her play on one of those indoor playgrounds at a mall. We could hear her going around to different kids asking them if they wanted to play with her and listening to them reject her. We wanted to make those kids play with her or play with her ourselves but we didn’t. Instead we let her keep asking until eventually she found her group. Later we discussed the situation with her. We didn’t tell her how awesome she was at being a kid other children wanted to play with, we praised her for her resilience. To this day I often encourage my children, and myself, not to depend on other people for happiness. Learn how to give yourself joy so that no one else can take it from you.
My son learned a valuable lesson yesterday. Not everyone you work with is for you and you still might have to work with them anyway. Before you think I’m a withholding parent, I did remind my son that he is athletic, fast, skilled at reading the pitch, looks for the pass, and is a great striker. He is by no means the best on that field but his skill-set is unique because of the athleticism he shows at such a young age. Withholding the pass, to benefit the team rather than serving an individual request that would have resulted in a bad play, was the smarter call.
Doing something that benefits all vs. one person is a no brainer. In fact It’s so easy, an 8 year old can do it. Yet, somehow that sentiment changes when we become adults, or I should say seems to, especially in this country anyway. Why do we expect more from kids than we do from adults? That’s what scares me about Redacted Kid Name. In my mind I want to believe that someday this kid’s mediocracy, arrogance, defiance, blame game, and shitty attitude will catch up to him. But by evidence, my heart knows that there’s a good chance he will be rewarded for it. If current circumstances teach us nothing, let’s face it, he’s probably on track to become president one day. I don’t know his home life. I’ve never met nor seen his mother. What little I know about the kid comes from my interactions with his father at soccer games. His father often admits that his kid doesn’t listen to him and does whatever he wants. It made me think about that John Mayer Song, “Daughters.” I feel like there’s a flip side to those lyrics, Mr. Mayer.
Son’s often look to their father’s
On how to be, how to act and what to do.
Father’s be responsible and teach your sons to be accountable
So Mother’s don’t have to do enough parenting for two.
My husband and I don’t know what career our children will choose when they get older. All we can do is to continue to help then understand the difference between worthiness and value. Every being is worthy because we are created. We exist. Value in my opinion, is not determined by how much money we make, how many awards we get, or how many goals we kick but by who we become; and that value should never come at the cost of being a good human being.
**Everything I write comes from my personal insights and has all the drippings of my opinions, biases, and what-nots. Rather than come for me with facts or judgements to contradict my said opinions, biases and what-nots, I’d rather you find a different blog that makes you happy. If you find these posts therapeutic or helpful in any way that means we connected and it’s all I can ask for, however I’m not a therapist nor a coach. I’m just a writer floating words out there hoping they find the person they are intended for.