As a 40-year veteran of sitting on bleachers, stands and sidelines, watching my kids and grandchildren play every sport from baseball to football to soccer to softball to dance to volleyball to basketball to track to cheer, I’ve worked in concession stands, stood on the chain gang, and sold tickets, candy bars, popcorn and hot dogs.
Believe me, I’ve seen it all – the good, the bad and the ugly.
I’ve seen kids chasing butterflies across the outfield while the ball bounces to the fence behind them.
I’ve seen kids whose hats come down over their ears and whose socks come up over their knees and whose bats are taller than they are.
I’ve seen parents who don’t know the first rule of the game show up faithfully for
every contest, handing out snacks and clapping for everyone regardless of how well they’re playing or what team they’re on.
I’ve seen know-it-all parents scream at the coach that if they tell their kid to bunt the ball one more time, they’re yanking him off the team.
I’ve seen fans on both sides of the field leap to their feet in a standing ovation for the kid who finally hit the ball for the very first time – a slow dribble down the third base line – in the last inning of the last game of the season.
I’ve seen parents threaten to call the board of education, the superintendent and the newspaper if their kid doesn’t make the cheer squad.
I’ve seen desperation heaves from the half-court line swish through the net at the buzzer – and I’ve seen ’em bounce off the rim in the same scenario.
I’ve seen kids from opposing teams throw their arms around one another’s shoulders as they leave the field after a hard-fought game … while in the background, their parents are still arguing with one another about whether that was a ball or a strike.
I’ve seen coaches who spend more time with other peoples’ kids than they do their own.
I’ve seen teams come together and I’ve seen teams fall apart.
Throughout these 40 years of observation, every lesson I learned can be summarized in one sentence:
It’s just a game.
Let the coaches coach, let the umpires and referees make the calls, and let the kids play. The only job of the parent is to support their kid and his/her team.
If you really think you can do a better job, there’s a pretty good chance your league needs volunteers, so by all means, go for it.
Believe me: Your kid is not going to remember the win/loss record.
What your kid will remember is whether there was a smiling face on the sidelines, a supportive hug after the game and a word of encouragement on the ride home.
If you really want your kid to be a winner, start by setting the example.
