A Letter From The Future Me

Knowing Your Role as a Parent in Youth Sports

Kevin,

You are reading this in 2016, the year Jacob, your oldest son turned 10, but I am writing this to you from the future. It is 2027, and life is good. You are still alive, happily married and the Jets are the defending Super Bowl Champions. Ok, so I lied about the Jets, they still stink, but you are alive and happily married.

The kids are all doing great, and I actually just finished having lunch with Jacob (my now 21 year old son/your current 10 year old son), and his friends Mark and Joe. They are all in town to visit family for the holidays. Yup, it’s the same Mark and Joe that were likely over at your house last night, as the three have been best friends since 1st grade.

We had a blast at lunch, with most of the conversation spent reminiscing about their good old days. We started with high school girlfriends, then Bar Mitzvahs and eventually we settled in on discussing their childhood travel teams (in which we all agreed was likely their athletic prime).

Based on their recollection, they won every big game, and one of them was usually the star player. (Reality — they won some, lost some. Rarely were they the difference makers in the end result). With that said, very few of their memories revolved around an actual game. Rather they spent most of the time sharing stories and laughing about things that you rarely pay attention to. Things that you currently think are of little significance, but when all is said and done, these are the ONLY things that really matter.

As the conversation went on, and I listened to these 3 young adults sharing their childhood sports memories, I quickly realized just how disconnected my experience of these events was from their memories of the same events. Basically, I found myself awash with various regrets, and this is the reason for this letter.

• They remember vivid details of the big tournaments; however these memories don’t include the actual games. Rather, they laughed about playing soccer in the narrow hotel hallways, how they snuck into the pool after it closed and the fun they had riding the elevators without their parents.
• They remember their teammates, some of their coaches, and all of the “crazy” parents.
• They remember playing “one more game” of world-cup after practice ended, and the parents yelling that it was time to go.
• They remember the time Jack’s dad got into a shouting match with the other parents and the referee. They remember it being really scary, resulting in a pushing match and almost coming to blows.
• They remember the number on the back of their jersey, and the time when they shaved the number into their head.
• They remember pizza and ice cream with teammates after games.

So here is my advice to you:

• When staying at the hotel for the next tournament, Jacob doesn’t need to go to bed early to get his sleep. He is 10, rest is overrated. Nobody will remember if they win or lose, but Jacob will always remember that night with his teammates (or he will always remember not being allowed out of the room that night).
• Measure the success of a season based on the friendships he builds, not in goals scored or wins/losses. Many of his relationships will last forever, but I promise you his trophies won’t be giving a best-man speech at his wedding.
• When practice ends, and it’s time to leave, be cool with occasionally allowing him to finish the random game they just started. Dinner, shower and homework will all get done, another 10 minutes isn’t a big deal.
• Your role while watching him play is to be his parent. Cheer (loudly if desired), but stay positive. And under no circumstances should you argue with other parents or referees. You might think you’re defending/protecting him, but you’re actually embarrassing him, and everyone involved.
• Embrace being part of a team. Teach him to be proud to wear the jersey and the importance of being a good teammate. And no matter what, definitely let him shave his head (even if school pictures are next week and his mom may kill you).
• Occasionally, no matter how inconvenient it may be for you, go out for ice cream after the game!!! I know, it’s Sunday night, you’ve been at the field all day and you need to work in the morning. I don’t care. This isn’t about you.

One day, in the not too distant future, the games will be over and all that will be left are the memories. You may not realize it now (hopefully this letter helps), but it’s not the wins or the great plays that shape these memories. It’s you.