I sat down at the press release, the media all had the same question.
Why don't you play sports anymore?
It was a tough decision to retire, considering at the height of my athletic career in the third grade — I averaged zero points a season.
But I decided to quit in the fifth grade because of the obnoxious parents.
More precisely, the kind of parent who loved to scream.
The incessant yelling from the bleachers drove me mad. Hearing a grown man or woman tell their child to hustle was insanity to me as a kid. Your child is 9-years-old and playing for a church recreational basketball league, simmer down.
Arriving at the basketball court or public soccer field and seeing a fleet of minivans parked outside, I knew, even as an 8-year-old boy, what was coming for me.
I prepared myself to see these parents, screaming with a preacher’s passion.
These parents manifest in many forms: a bleached-blonde mother in a lawn chair or a drunken father with a goatee. Yet each has the same goal of living through their children and making sure their child is the best.
I can’t stress this enough: you’re a grown adult. Your child hasn’t a hair on their body. It doesn’t matter. Unless you peaked during your K-12 years and want your kid to do the same, just cool off, and enjoy seeing them stumble around before they grow up.
I feel bad for these kids getting yelled at. You’d have to think that the constant pressure of your parents expecting all-star plays from your tiny body would swiftly kill all the love of your sport you might have.
And I heavily doubt all the commotion aids in the kids' performance.
If my parents did that to me, I’d freeze up. It’d be real hard to score a goal as your ears are filled with profanity and middle-aged spit rains overhead.
The parental pressures of performing well for your little league can cause greater issues.
Dr. Lauren Havel, assistant professor in the Menninger Department of Psychiatry and Behavioral Sciences at Baylor believes that whenever parents push their kids too hard or set unrealistic expectations it can cause them to develop performance anxiety.
To see these parents act like this is unsettling. A vision that has stuck with me throughout my life was during a soccer game. I recall seeing a parent shake the fence’s bars, howling like an unkempt zoo animal attempting to break free from their jail cell enclosures.
People like that remind me how much I appreciate my parents. They weren’t worried how well I performed on the field.
In fact, when I quit sports, my dad was relieved. He didn’t have to drive me around as much.
Thank God my parents were never too invested in my athleticism.
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