I was reminded of something today regarding sports. But before I share the picture which was brought forward so clearly to my mind, I have to fill in some details. I like sports. I really like to watch pro baseball and football. I will occasionally watch basketball, ice hockey, even golf (though it usually has to be around the 16th hole or I turn the channel). I am not and probably never will be a rabid fan of any one sport, it just doesn't move me the way a book does. BUT when our kids were growing up, I knew it was important to play sports for lots of reasons. They learned how to use their bodies to do something besides watch television. They learned to be part of a team. They learned the rules of a game and how to conduct themselves when representing their town in traveling around local towns playing their sport of choice. When our kids were growing up, soccer had become all the rage. Parents were encouraging their kids to play when the kids could barely understand the concept of "kick the ball". Both of our children wanted and liked to play soccer. They were not star athletes by any means, but they consistently showed up and did their part. They were not picked to be part of the elitist traveling teams, but I didn't think this was tragic. They learned something from that as well, I like to think. Something along the lines of, "not everyone can be a superstar at everything." A good life lesson in my opinion.
So, today, the lady I work with and I were discussing our sons and the sports they participated in. Her sons did karate for a while (she shared her terror of having one son race towards her as she held a block of wood to be annilated by his foot--as she dropped it and waited for the impact). And that's when I saw this picture in my mind. It has been dormant for a while, but it was so clear, I was transported just for a few moments.
Picture if you will, a tall, gangly young man in his freshman year of high school. He has played soccer since he was knee high to a grasshopper and it is the only sport he is interested in playing. He is not consumed with it, as some of his contemporaries are, he is simply interested. There are stellar players on the team, to be sure, but this is freshman year in a four year school and the school has a generous no-cut policy which means everyone who wants to play is suited up. The mother of this young man (me), is just happy he's out in the sunshine getting some fresh air. However, into the first few weeks of the season, it has become apparent that the coach is out to win at all costs. Therefore, the less than outstanding members of the team will not be playing in any game. They will be observing their team mates running up and down the field exhausting themselves, while the bench sitters get neck strain watching, but not participating in the action. I am appalled. And annoyed. And beyond livid when during one such game, played in the pouring rain, the bench sitters sat huddled together getting cold and wet while the super stars were wiped down with towels when they arrived gasping for air at this same bench. I did not intervene. My son learned any number of lessons that season. He also never played any sport in high school after that. And why would he? He was embarrassed enough that season, why go through that again?
He is accomplished and grown up now. He probably doesn't even remember the incident above. But I do. That coach's son attends the high school my son once attended and I wonder if he will be treated the same. Somehow I think not. And it's a curiosity to me why I still remember this so clearly after all these years. But remember it I do. Sports can be a good thing or a bad. Discuss among yourselves, but leave me out of it, thank you. I probably wouldn't be very objective.
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