First in a series.  I’ve done a lot of thinking about youth sports, mostly while sitting on the sidelines at my daughter’s soccer games.  Just because I’ve done a lot of thinking about youth sports doesn’t mean that what follows is “the truth,” it’s simply my subjective perspective based upon my particular life experiences.  I welcome opposing viewpoints and I’m curious if my perspective resonates with anyone.  Like Ben Stein said in Ferris Bueller’s Day Off, “Anyone? Anyone?”

Some context.  I grew up playing sports all the time, switching sports with the seasons.  I was decent in most every sport, but didn’t distinguish myself in any.  I think positively about my sports experiences and I would describe myself as sports-minded.  

I have a hunch that I may be different than most sports fans in that I tend to root for the underdog even if “my” team is favored.  Between 1985-1989, I taught at four high schools in Los Angeles, one in the inner city, one in an upper middle class section of the San Fernando Valley, and two in between.  When watching basketball games at the well-to-do school, I recall silently rooting for the visiting inner city teams.  Similarly, if I read a compelling story about a foreign athlete before the Olympics, I’ll typically root for him/her even if they’re going head-to-head with an American. 

My daughters are privileged, as are most of their teammates.  Sometimes they play teams that appear to be less privileged, imperfectly measured mostly by the number of adults in attendance.  Sometimes my daughters’ teams thump less privileged teams and I feel alienated from the parents who continue to cheer lustily after each successive goal.  I’ve been on the other side too, having watched my daughters’ teams get spanked, and was amazed at how oblivious the other parents were to the larger context as they cheered wildly for goal eight, nine, ten.  

My first youth sports experience as a parent was unequivocally negative.  L and I signed up A, at age four, for soccer.  Good thing I have a modest blog readership because that’s a difficult admission.  If three seconds ago you didn’t stop and say to yourself, “What the hell were they thinking signing up their four year old daughter for organized soccer?” you should have.  And in case you didn’t, I will, “What the hell were we thinking signing up our four year old for organized soccer?” 

I guess the sad truth of the matter is we did it because we were human lemmings mindlessly following the lead of our peers.  I’m not proud of that, but at least I’m owning up to it.

Stay tuned.