I've been sharing my opinions and thoughts about youth sports on this blog for close to 10 years and have been very open about how I feel. It's lead to some harsh criticism in the comments section as well as on Facebook and forums. However, there has been an overwhelming amount of support and it's very clear that the "silent majority" is extremely large and wants something better for their children. Still, it's a big uphill climb to institute positive changes within the current youth sports culture.
During some of my first posts, many of the challengers questioned my credibility because I didn't have children of my own participating in youth sports. According to them, I was just another person without kids trying to tell them how to be parents. It's human nature to shift the blame when the evidence is too convincing to refute. I distinctly recall one post asserting that my tune would change once my kids started participating in youth sports.
Well, we've come to that point. Last Sunday, my oldest son chose to wrestle in our local youth tournament. It was quite the experience for everyone and I feel like I have a responsibility to share what it was like for us.
Spoiler alert: I haven't changed my opinions about the youth sports culture.
I've been coaching at our local high school for the past three years and running the youth practices for the past four. I've been a wrestling coach since graduating college and my children have seen my life as a coach from the behind-the-scenes. Wrestling has been around them since they were born, but it's never been an expectation from Liz and me that they would participate. I suppose there has been pressure from the community, friends, family and the idea that little boys want to do what Daddy is doing. However, still to this day, I have never asked any of my children if they want to wrestle. They asked if they could come to little kids' wrestling practices and last week Isaiah asked if he could wrestle in our tournament. He's seven and several youth wrestlers have been attending tournaments since they were five, but it wasn't on his radar until now and I didn't want to put it on his radar before he found it. Yes, I want my children to wrestle very badly, but I want more for them to discover what they want to do. If anything, I've been more stand-offish about wrestling than any other sport. I've asked them and encouraged them to try tee ball, soccer, swimming, etc. like other parents, but the wrestling gig is different for us. There are just too many facets and layers to it here in our small town and I don't want to send the message that my kids are supposed to wrestle because of their last name or because members of their family have done it and are still involved in different capacities. You could say I'm over-sensitive to all things wrestling when it comes to my household and no matter how difficult or intentional that is for me, it's what's best for our family.
We had youth practice on Monday and I mentioned to the parents and little wrestlers that we had our tournament on Super Bowl Sunday. In an e-mail, I encouraged parents to be patient and let their sons/daughters ask if they can participate before asking them if they were interested. How a question is framed by Mom and Dad can influence what a little kid is thinking because they want to please us. Some of our youth wrestlers decided to wrestle and others didn't. No big deal either way. Isaiah asked his mom if wrestlers from other towns would be at the tournament and that was the deal breaker for him. He said, "oh, well I'm not going to wrestle this year," which we had suspected and we left it at that and arranged for a babysitter. Later in the week, he brought it up again. We could tell he had been thinking about it and he had some questions, so we talked about it trying hard to be informative and not persuasive. He slowly changed his mind and wanted to give it a shot. The night before the tournament, he was pretty adamant about getting his gear set out in a special place and going to bed early. It was fun for us to watch his level of focus change.
He was nervous. I was nervous.
One of the things I often tell youth wrestling parents is to make the experience about their children and not about themselves. It was easy for us to handle Isaiah and his nerves, but it was more difficult for us to figure out what to do with ours. I think we did well to keep them to ourselves and not project anything on him, however, the truth is I was thinking a lot about myself, too.
I thought: Am I handling this the right way? Am I showing enough excitement for his excitement? Am I going too far in not making it a big deal that I'm not even making it a little deal for him? Will I be able to act the way I expect good parents to act? Can I keep it in perceptive? Both privately and publicly? I know people are going to be watching my kid and I know people are going to be watching me. Can I pull it off? I was thinking about me as much as I was thinking about Isaiah.
As much as my thoughts were bouncing all over the place, my focus wasn't. It was all about him and he took precedence over everything else that day. I removed myself from other tournament obligations and we had a great day together. I enjoyed watching him figure things out in accordance to his personality. He paced around the open mats before things started. He looked around and soaked it all in. We fumbled over trying to get his headgear to fight tightly, shared some snacks and found his name on the bracket - all little moments that could have been skipped if I didn't take the time to be in the moment.
When wrestling began, his anticipation level was through the roof. I was happy standing alongside him and giving him the assurance that I was going to be there after he removed the leg band and walked off the mat. He fought and tried hard and there were a lot of tears. Whether if it's a 7 year old or a 36 year old, putting it all on the line, being vulnerable and doing our best inside those fears will bring with it a lot of emotions. I had a new connection with my little guy and a new perspective on the tears at youth wrestling tournaments. I've been very critical of the tears - not that children shouldn't cry, but that youth tournaments shouldn't push kids to tears. I still believe this, however, in some cases, those tears are the result of someone giving everything they have in the moment and being completely vulnerable. That's scary, but something that we should all strive for.
After his final match, he walked in his little Isaiah waddle towards me and cuddled his head on my shoulder. I told him he did great and he asked in a very matter-of-fact tone if we could now go bowling. Of course. His tournament was over and shifting gears was on the agenda. We didn't have to talk about the wrestling tournament, dissect it or explore his feelings. It was over and we moved on.
Later in the day, he asked me about when I was a wrestler and about winning and losing. My memory says this is actually the very first time he asked me about being a wrestler (I've always been just a coach). I quickly told him that I don't measure wrestling with wins and losses, but only with smiles and hugs. He thought that was pretty funny and we laughed. Then we went bowling.