Better to watch kids on the field than on the big screen

Thursday, February 2, 2012

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At one point or another, we all have watched our child being slighted. One of the most common, and painful, places for this to occur is on a sports field. There is nothing like taking the time to go to a game – dragging the little ones, packing the snacks, lugging the chairs – only to watch your child spend the majority of that particular game on the sidelines. You can feel your blood pressure rising each time another sub opportunity comes and goes. The little veins on your forehead begin to enlarge and turn a lovely shade of crimson. Momma Bear comes out of hibernation, thinking all the while, “I could be home waxing my brow right now!”

The likelihood is that it was simply an oversight or a fluke. It probably hurts the parent more than the child, who is blissfully oblivious to such events. They are just happy to be hanging out with their friends and playing ball. Living vicariously has its downfalls.

Parents can be funny, though, especially when their child does not make a team they deserve to be on. At this point the little horns start to protrude, and Momma Bear goes on the actual hunt. We try to figure out … Is it something I said? Do they even know her name? It must be a mistake! This is because we all know, deep inside, that our child really is the best and certainly deserves the starring role: on the team, in the play, at the meet. Of course, in the greater scope of things, these indiscretions simply help prepare our children for the real world.

Competition is a legitimate part of life. The sooner we teach our kids that it is OK to lose as long as you give it your all, the better adjusted they will be. Stumbling along the way is all part of the process. Our goal as a parent is to teach our children that playing in the game is what really counts, and losing is simply an opportunity to try harder the next time.

Most losses can be chalked up and forgotten. It is endearing to watch your 4-year-old freeze on stage during her first dance recital, that deer-in-the-headlight expression only serving to make her look all the cuter. It is amusing to watch your first-grader pass the ball toward the opposing team’s goal in recreational soccer – you’re just happy that he kicked it so hard! It even can be enlightening when your conscientious fourth-grader lets the other team score when her team is winning by a landslide.

But it is downright heart-wrenching when your child blows the play of a lifetime that costs your team the championship. In the past few weeks, there have been at least three sets of parents who went from nail-biting excitement to heartbreaking sorrow, all while watching their professional athlete child play the game of football. There was the receiver who dropped the ball in the end zone, the kicker who missed the game-tying field goal and the punt returner who fumbled in overtime. 

The pressure of having your child play for a professional team, especially a good one, must be astronomical. I doubt that I would have any fingernails at all, or toenails, for that matter! Can you image going to the Pasta Loft for wings Sunday and watching your own little man on the big screen? How hard would it be to maintain your composure while simultaneously gleaming with pride and secretly praying that he doesn’t stumble or fumble – literally.

Playing the lottery provides us a glimpse into an imaginary world of luxury. Sitting on the sidelines of the MCAA fields, or the Hampshire Dome, gives us an angular peek into another fantasy. I myself like to dream big, and I encourage my children to do the same. Gearing up to watch the New England Patriots play in yet another Superbowl, I am reminded of all the wonderful opportunities our children will have, both on and off the sports field. We are lucky to have so many diverse intramural sports offerings for our kids. I don’t mind watching them occasionally sit out, screw up on the field or even get slighted every once in a while. I honestly can say I would rather watch my own child playing on the bumpy local field from my rickety chair, sipping lukewarm coffee and getting eaten alive by pesky mosquitoes, than Tom Brady on the big screen.

Maybe one day, I will have the honor of watching my own child on that big screen. I certainly encourage them in their endeavors. As George Bailey says in “It’s a Wonderful Life,” “What do you want? You want the moon? Just say the word and I’ll throw a lasso around it and pull it down.” Reach for the stars and the moon, little ones. They are yours for the taking.