Heady Stuff

Given the year I'm having I shouldn't have been surprised to learn -- within 24 hours -- that both of my children have mild concussions. Abby's is the result of a tremendously impressive header in Sunday's soccer game with her travel team. (For those who don't know, a "header" is the redirection of a soccer ball with one's head.) Ian's is the result of an accident during play practice. Yes, I'm serious. Apparently he was lying on the floor (for a reason), when another actor whose vision was obscured because he was carrying someone else off stage (for a reason), stepped on Ian's head. Basically, Ian had the weight of two teenagers on his head. Obviously, that hurts. It just so happened that the high school's athletic trainer was still in his office and was able to see Ian and diagnose him with a concussion.

Five days later, Abby feels fine but won't be permitted to play soccer again until she's seen by a concussion specialist (pediatricians apparently are not qualified to evaluate these types of injuries). We couldn't get an appointment with one until Tuesday. Four days after his incident, Ian is still struggling. Or so he says. He is an actor after all. But seriously, his headaches are bad and he's experiencing occasional dizziness. I don't think he's faking it because with a concussion you're not supposed to watch television or sit in front of a computer or view anything with moving pixels. In other words, he's bored out of his mind at home and would actually prefer to be at school. He will also see the concussion specialist on Tuesday. (Unfortunately, the doctor didn't go for my "two for one" suggestion.)

Concussions are scary stuff. Did you know that the brain doesn't stop growing until about age 25, making impact that much more dangerous for children and teens? Did you know that for some reason concussions are worse for girls than they are for boys? Just a couple months ago an enlightening and disturbing piece appeared on Huffington Post. In "Why My Wife and I Pulled Our Daughter Out of Soccer" the author shares research findings which report that "girls' soccer is second only to football in terms of the number of concussions in youth and high school sports." While most soccer concussions are the result of collisions between players, or falls in which a player's head strikes the ground, what is of even greater concern is the effect of the repetitive sub-concussive hits the brain absorbs during games and practices as a result of heading.

Habitually heading soccer balls may have similar effects on the brain as the repetitive sub-concussive hits that offensive and defensive linemen receive banging heads along the line of scrimmage in football.

According to a UNC brain researcher, "Long-term (brain) damage may have less to do with the number of diagnosed concussions and perhaps more to do with the number of sub-concussive impacts to the head." The post goes on to cite other research findings and none of them paint a pretty picture. Like I said, this is scary stuff.

I confess to having trouble with the idea of Abby never playing soccer again, but I also can't imagine my incredibly bright, confident and industrious daughter not having her brain intact for the long life that's ahead of her. I can't imagine that thinking, solving and remembering could become a challenge because she played soccer throughout her formative years. While I realize that one header is not (God-willing) going to leave Abby brain damaged, I do question whether it makes sense to allow her to continue to play, even if we forbid her from heading. While I don't have the same concerns about Ian's time in the theater, I am worried about his current injury and any long-term effects it might have. When something happens to your children that could affect them for life, you quickly realize how precious their lives are and how much you love them just as they are now.

I know I'm generally not the picture image of parental love and concern, but my words today are heartfelt and serious. I'm sure if the kids were to read this, however, they'd have their doubts. I submit as evidence a conversation I had with Abby on Monday night:

Me:  I think I have a "sympathy headache" for you and Ian.

Abby: No, you don't. You're not sympathetic.

Me: [A look of shock and disbelief]

Abby: When we were little you told us that you weren't sympathetic and that "if you're not bleeding, you're fine."

Damn that kid and her long-term memory.

As Ian and Abby have grown, I've learned that the cuts, scrapes and bruises of their childhood are not, in fact, the injuries most deserving of my concern. It's the hurts they suffer on the inside -- emotionally, mentally and physically -- that demand my full attention.

Parents Behaving Badly

As you might expect, I'm a loud and occasionally obnoxious an enthusiastic parent at my children's sporting events. I hoot and holler, scream wildly, and encourage the kids to "RUN!" "KICK!" "DEFEND!" I cheer for every hit, catch, goal, block, and nice try. As embarrassing as I can be for my children, and as much as I may annoy other parents, the one thing I never do is criticize. Having attended my fair share of children's sporting events, however, I can tell you that other parents are not as self-controlled as yours truly. 

A representative badly behaving parent,
not from deep Delco (as far as I know)

Abby is currently playing softball and the games this season have been particularly unruly. I've heard parents scream at their children:

"Don't swing at that! Make her throw strikes! She made you throw strikes!"

I've heard coaches criticize their players:

"You couldn't have hit that with a broom! Wait for a pitch!"

I've heard parents chew out coaches. And umpires scold parents and coaches. And parents instigate fights with coaches and other parents. Yes, the news you hear about parents behaving badly at kids' sporting events is true.

Last night's game was a doozy.

First, the other team kept catching fly balls. Players don't usually do that in U11 games (kids under age 11). It cost us runs, and that's annoying. Annoying, but not improper or disruptive.

Disruptive is having parents on one team (I'm ashamed to say it was ours) make a rude comment to an assistant coach on the other team, at which said coach asked them to repeat that comment and when they declined, confidently retorted, "I didn't think so." And frankly, I don't know what they were thinking insulting this particular woman. Even before they baited her, she looked like a ticked off linebacker, already in a bad mood because she wanted to get home for the Flyers game. Those Flyers fans are a mean, volatile bunch.

All this negative energy put the ump, who's normally very sweet, in a rotten mood. She called every possible error:

• Obstructing the base (lost us two outs and advanced runners)
• Batting out of order (an automatic out; the other coach was actually keeping track. Jerk.)
• Tossing the bat after getting a hit (one warning)

And she threatened parents and coaches on both sides with ejections for bad behavior. And no, I wasn't one of them.

Then there was the constant yelling. Our coaches are big into "KEEP GOING!!" when there's been a hit and a player is running to base. As long as the other team hasn't returned the ball to the pitcher, all's fair, and they take full advantage of it, even when it seems cruel. Of course, given the seemingly dirty (though perfectly legal) "RUN!!" instructions of our coaches, the other team decided to make it work for them as well. Now we had two coaches hollering at the girls to head to the next base. In the end, the "GO FOR IT!" approach worked out well for the other team and they beat our formerly unbeaten girls in the bottom of the last inning.

Heads were swimming. Their girls were screaming with joy, while ours were dejected by the loss and madness. It was like a reality TV show: "Naughty Parents of Deep Delco." (Only local readers will appreciate that deep Delco reference.)

Time to share. What's the worst, craziest, or most offensive thing you've heard at a child's sporting event?

When Dropping the Ball

Spring training is in full swing. For some reason, I'm more excited about this Phillies season than any other, possibly because I'm seeking redemption for the abrupt and heartbreaking end of 2011. That spectacular collapse, along with the game-costing blunders of the more recent NFL playoffs and Super Bowl, have caused me to wonder:

• When a team doesn't meet expectations, does the blame gets passed around?
• And how does the individual player handle their mistakes?

All rights reserved by SAB0TEUR

We all know Giselle Bundchen was happy to give the finger point the finger at Wes Welker when he dropped that perfectly thrown pass from her man, effectively losing the Super Bowl for the Patriots. But how did Wes feel? (Besides generally shitty?) Do professional athletes take it as hard or harder than the rest of us when we let down our friends or team? I know fear of disappointing teammates is a major stumbling block for Abby, and it basically squelched any desire Ian ever had to play sports (along with his general lack of athleticism). So how do you deal with it as a professional when your salary and the stakes are so high?

I'm sure it's bad enough to literally or figuratively drop the ball, but there also must be unwritten rules for how you respond. I'm assuming your teammates want to know you're sufficiently crestfallen and heartbroken, but I imagine collapsing into a heap of sobs is not particularly appropriate. I wonder, too, does one apologize at the professional level? And if you do apologize, how do you expect your teammates to react? Do they tell you that you suck and that you totally let them down or is that just what they're thinking? Do they pretend they don't know you? Is there some form of retaliation involving shaving cream or tire slashing, or could they possibly pat you on the back and say, "You'll get 'em next time, Tiger."?

Without question, it takes a certain kind of person to play the role of prospective hero or fall guy. I, for one, cannot imagine being in a less desirable position. The game is on the line and my kick, catch, pitch, or hit may make the difference between victory or defeat? Um, no thanks. Clearly these pros are much stronger than we mere mortals.

Having never played team sports in my life, I'd love some feedback from those of you who have.

• What are the unwritten reaction rules for messing up?
• Does someone teach you how to respond when a teammate lets you down? If so, what do you learn?
• Do you think the rules change as you progress from Little League and Pee Wee to high school, college, and the pros, or does sportsmanship remain the same regardless of how high the stakes?

Weigh in!

Awe-Struck

I have never been an athlete. When I was a kid, girls' sports were not nearly as big as they are now. And even if they had been, it's doubtful it would have ever occurred to my parents to involve me in them. After all, I was the girl who required remedial gym classes for hand-eye coordination and balance. My parents encouraged me to sing in the choir and join the yearbook staff rather than embarrass myself as part of a sports team.

While I may never have been an athlete, that doesn't mean I don't appreciate their abilities or enjoy watching sports. On the contrary, compared to most women, I love sports, and I'm delighted that my daughter Abby is already showing great potential as both a soccer and softball player.

Twice in the past week I've had the opportunity to reflect on the special something that is the female athlete. Last Monday was Abby's first ever fast pitch indoor softball practice. Her team of 4th and 5th graders bravely joined a group of older girls who had been practicing for weeks. What I saw in these young ladies was engagement, dedication, hard work, and enthusiasm. They were stepping into new territory and embracing it. I love that through sports, these girls will grow up strong, confident, and knowing they are more than a pretty face or a cute outfit. I felt such immense pride in watching my daughter listen and learn, fail and succeed, and give this her all as she does with everything she takes on. I thought of the woman she's soon to become and was in awe of her potential.

Ivy Classic Champions 2011

Yesterday, I saw the woman Abby will be some day. She and I joined my friend Emily at the University of Pennsylvania where the Quakers gymnastics team was hosting the Ivy League Championship. Emily is a former Penn gymnast, and a remarkably strong, confident, intelligent and accomplished woman. In the stands we were surrounded by her former teammates, and on the floor we watched the young women who now represented the best of Penn.

Again, "awe" was the word that came to mind. It was more than just the gut-wrenching flips and twists and displays of raw athleticism. It was the fact that these young women were the epitome of commitment, perseverance, and courage in an age when that is increasingly rare. I was struck by the level of spirit, teamwork and support they demonstrated, especially given the individual nature of the sport. Add to that the fact that these women are not only athletes but among the brightest students in the country. I thought to myself, that's my Abby in just a few short years (can you tell I think she's something special?).

While I have enjoyed my own accomplishments and feel I present a strong female role model for my daughter, I will always wish I had experienced what it means to compete physically as both an individual and part of a team. My hat goes off to Abby, Emily, the Penn gymnasts, and all those girls, young and old, who demonstrate dedication, teamwork, strength, and competitive spirit on fields, in gyms, and on courts each and every day.  

Now, if you're like me and have never experienced the thrill of victory and the agony of defeat as a competitive athlete, visit Emily's blog, Mothers of Brothers for "A Piece of Me."

Yet Another Life Lesson: No One Owes You a Medal Just for Showing Up

Today, class, we'll discuss why you don't deserve a medal just for showing up.

As I mentioned in my last post, Abby's soccer team participated in a tournament this past weekend at which they lost all three of their games. The girls gave it their all, and I was impressed at how no one seemed distraught or beaten down by the losses. Generally, by the time they reached the parking lot, they were ready to move on. After the third game, however, Abby seemed a little glum. When I asked her if she was upset about losing, she replied, "I want a medal." See, on our way off the field after the final game, we noticed that other teams were wearing medals. And Abby wanted one too.

Now if I was a nicer mom, I might have commiserated with Abby and tried to make her feel better by telling her that certainly she deserved a medal for having played hard and trying her best. But since I'm generally not a nice mom, I told Abby,

"That's not the way real life works. Unfortunately, you don't get a medal or a trophy just for showing up and making the effort."

Yes, I acknowledged and applauded her hard work, but that's all I could do for her.

I remember being surprised at the trophies and medals given out for simply playing on a team when the kids were little. I wondered then whether we weren't setting them up for disappointment. And then I heard disturbing things about the school system, including that teachers were no longer allowed to use a red pen when marking a student's paper because it could damage their self-esteem or self-confidence. And I noticed the lack of competition, like spelling bees, in elementary school because a competition means someone has to lose in order for someone else to win and that too would be sad, if not downright harmful.

Yes children, it's true. Someone has to lose. Someday you will lose. It happens to each of us.

Are we doing our kids any favors by awarding mere participation? I'm all for building a kid's confidence and desire to keep playing or trying by offering a pat on the back or even a certificate that says "Thanks for participating." But beyond that I question whether we're doing more harm than good. We seem to be setting them up for disappointment. And honestly, how much will all those dust-collecting medals and trophies mean when you can't even recall why you received them?

The good news is that Abby didn't linger too long in her disappointed state.

The bad news is that last night she came home from soccer practice with...wait for it...a tournament medal...just for participating.

Another teachable moment out the window!

Ranting on Kids Sports

The out-of-control state of kids' sports has been addressed in the media and cyberspace ad nauseum, but I'm going to add my two cents because I'm really fired up. And it takes a lot to get me fired up.


This beef of mine started years ago when Ian was little. Really little. Like three or four-years-little. That's how young they start soccer and t-ball. Sure, it might be fun for the kids (though hell for the parents to sit through), but the downside is that

1. If your child doesn't play from year one, they'll already be out of the loop and at a disadvantage when they try to start playing at age seven
2. If your child stinks at age five, they will lose confidence and interest in the game before they're even old enough to understand it and reach their potential.

But, Rob and I are go with the flow kinda people so we threw our kids into this mess as soon as they met the age requirement. Needless to say, I can't bitch too much about a system I'm part of.

For the last couple years, I've been particularly frustrated with the leadership in one of my children's sports leagues. (I'm being purposely vague.)  This individual runs the league as if the players are working toward Olympic gold. We have trainers from other countries, for cryin' out loud. And don't get me started on the expense. Being on this person's "A" team sounds like a punishment, particularly if you're not performing at the level expected. I heard recently that one player was criticized for "looking like an A level player during tryouts, but not playing like one during the games." And players have been known to make the A team based on relationships versus skills. But hey, that's life, so why not start with kids sports. I need to be realistic.

Today, I learned that a friend's child did not make either of the league's fall teams for which they held tryouts last month. And for me, this could be the straw that breaks the proverbial camel's back. The official explanation is that there were too many children for two teams ("A" and "B") and not enough for a third team. I think that's crap. No child should be cut from a team at age nine. Add to the rosters of the A and B teams if you have to, even if it means less playing time for each child. At least on the more reasonable B team, the kids want to have fun and be with their friends, more than they care about winning state championships. I think if asked they would happily add to their numbers so every child had a chance to play.

But therein lies the problems with kids sports. Somewhere along the line it became more about the parents than the children. I imagine the system would be much more fair and enjoyable for everyone concerned if we let kids make the rules.

Your thoughts?