Pushy Parents Need To Remember Sports Is Supposed To Be Fun!

Unable to handle the pressure, too many kids are leaving organized sports at an early age.

While the death of a seven-year-old pilot last spring provoked much outrage and anger, Jessica Dubroff's tragedy is an example, albeit a bizarre and unimaginable one, of something at work across North America: the urge of parents to press, maybe even bully, a child to be the best.

Somehow, somewhere, faith in the simplicity of childhood has been lost. Average just isn't good enough when it comes to raising our children. It is impossible to spend much time around the playing fields and arenas of North America today and not be aware that there are more parents treating their kids like miniature adults. And as shocking as the Dubroff story of pushy, airheaded parenting may seem, to an increasing number of us, it sounds all too familiar. Such intense focus on over achievement is, it seems, a growing phenomenon among those who demand more of those who play.

Too much organization and adult pressure on child athletes can lead to a range of emotional and physical problems in the early teen years, doctors say. If anything, however, the situation could worsen, exacerbated by workaholism, heightened economic insecurity, stress and the pervasive need of some adults to bask in the reflected glory of their kids. With greater and greater rewards available to those who make it, when so many Canadians are desperately trying to hang on to what they already have, the result is parents seeking ever more control over their children's lives.

It is the style of this generation, a manic obsession with highly organized games, practices, structures and achievement. So we see more activities with coaches, referees and regimentation, and less creative, independent play in schoolyards, driveways and backyards. The parents who produce and direct their children's dreams associate down time, time alone, with falling behind.

Whether it seems to make sense or not, Canadian kids are encouraged to play hockey not only in winter, but in spring leagues, summer camps and hockey schools. "Without making too much of a generalization, hockey parents are more demanding of their kids than they've ever been," says Murray Costello, president of Hockey Canada. In Canada, minor hockey is the most prominent example of prodigy creation, because of the masses of kids and parents involved and the incredible rewards for the few who make it.

Of the 523,000 registered players in Canada, half of one per cent will reach the point of playing on a minor-league team, never mind the NHL. Think of minor hockey as a lottery, then, with hundreds of thousands of parents believing their little meal ticket is the one who'll beat the odds. That's why high-performance summer hockey schools are growing fast - too fast for Costello, who is concerned about purely profit-motivated operators, and burnout. To him, the happy childhood mix of hockey, lacrosse and baseball, and those impromptu games in the street and backyard, owed as much to Wayne Gretzky's development as the arenas of southern Ontario. At present, the Canadian hockey system produces more competent players than ever before, but increasingly the truly great players come from someplace else. "When I hear that soccer enrollments are on the verge of passing hockey, I say to myself, 'Good, because that means more hockey players are going into dry-land training,'" Costello says. "There's a feeling that if the guy two doors down is sending his kid to hockey school, you should be, too. But I'm a strong believer that hockey players should be encouraging different skills, so that they come back in the fall refreshed. We see too many youngsters dropping out of hockey at 13 or 14."

When 17-year-old Travis came to his dad last January and told him he wanted to quit hockey, his father, Mark, not only agreed, but he also understood. Mark is not, as he happily admits, a pushy father, but in the back if his mind was the thought that Travis might become the third generation of Howes in a Red Wing jersey. It was the chance for Mark Howe's eldest son to play for a good bantam rep team, as much as anything else, that made Howe sign as a free agent with Detroit in 1992. "Minor hockey is so much more of a business than when I played," Howe says. "There are good people out there, don't get me wrong. But my sense is the child's welfare is becoming less and less important. The focus should be on instruction and developing character. But you wonder about some of the coaches and parents today. There's so much backbiting and infighting, yelling and screaming."

Howe prided himself in not getting too caught up in it. But when Travis started to slide into the anonymous pack of his midget AAA team, the father watched his son's self-esteem go on the rocks under coaching and parental pressure more intimidating than any opposing player. And so, Mark Howe said no more, too much. "The bottom line is I never saw Travis smile when he played," Howe says. "It was like he was playing for Mike Keenan. When he decided he wanted to drop out, I supported his decision 100 per cent. Within a week, Travis was his old self. I felt I'd got my boy back again." Howe and his wife Ginger have vowed that their younger son, Nolan, should grow up and find hockey appealing as an outlet for fun and learning. "Ginger made me swear on a stack of bibles that I'd never take Nolan out of house league hockey," Mark says.

An attitude of the times, the drive to be the best strikes at the great mass of house league players as well. There's no guarantee even there that life perspectives are necessarily crystal clear. Youth leagues start out with the premise that teams should be balanced fairly, so that, in theory, each player has an equal chance to participate and win a fair share of games. That's the way the system is supposed to work, but some coaches need remedial training in respecting the meaning of fairness. "We all know of the loopholes that are found and the politicing that takes place from year to year," says sports psychologist Rick Wolff, who writes a column in Sports Illustrated for Kids. Wolff, the father of three, has some good news for those Canadians who believe there is no limit to the insanity one encounters in minor hockey. When he worked for the Cleveland Indians, Wolff was amazed by the number of big leaguers who didn't want their kids exposed to the pressures of Little League. These were ballplayers who actively encouraged their kids into skateboarding, skiing, anything to distract them from the demands of baseball.

"It was very surprising," Wolff says, "because here are the best and brightest graduates of Little League telling me they find it a turn-off." Once professionals challenge the myth, critics feel free to question the necessity of the Vince Lombardi approach-"the winner is the only person who is truly alive"-and other canons from the high priest of competition. Wolff would like to think that Lombardi's tactics no longer dominate the thinking of coaches working with nine and 10-year old kids, but the rejection of his methods is by no means universal.

"Unfortunately, too many coaches feel their mandate is to go out and win when every poll shows that 90 per cent of kids would prefer to play on a losing team rather than sit on the bench," Wolff says. "They just want to play."

While the vast majority of parents probably have things in perspective, some accept the contortion of their kids' lives, right up until the point where the dream dies. The stereotype that all of minor hockey is a puck-black hole of ethical turpitude is wrong, yet it's amazing how grown men and women can complicate a simple game we so love.

Soccer is no different. There is no limit to the length some parents will go to, says Keith Liddiard, when they think their kids are destined for greatness. The executive director of the B.C. Youth Soccer Association cites three cases this year where parents allowed guardianship of their children to be legally transferred to families in other districts so their kids could play higher-calibre competition. "An oft-heard comment from parents is we shouldn't allow it," Liddiard says, "'However, when it comes to my kids everybody appreciates a rule for the masses, but when it comes to their own kids they're not quite sure."

If a sport offers the wrong experiences or teaches the wrong values, then it has lost its purpose. And it's Chris Johnson's purpose to ensure that the winning of trophies and tournaments doesn't take over the real reasons why children compete - fun, friendships and skill acquisition. A physical educator and motivational speaker at Douglas College in New Westminster, Johnson talks to some of B.C.'s 60,000 volunteer coaches about fair play, drug abuse and ways to develop sensitivities in communication with young athletes.

Unfortunately, only about 1,000 provincial coaches have joined the B.C. coaching association and subscribe to its code of ethics. Obvious as it may seem, Johnson says parents spend considerably more time researching daycare than looking into the character and background of those who guide their children's lives on the playing field.

"We leave our most treasured possessions in the hands of people we know little about," he says.

Finally, one last truth: While there is an established code of conduct for coaches, Johnson says there needs to be another: "We're making progress in educating coaches, but who's educating the parents?" he asks.

Mike Beamish is a Sports Columnist for the Vancouver Sun and Guest Writer for the BC Amateur Hockey Association

Please don't scream, curse or yell
Remember, I'm not in the NHL
I'm only nine years old
And can't be traded, bought or sold.
I just want to play the game
I'm not looking for hockey fame
Don't make me feel I'm made of sin
Just because my team didn't win.
I don't want to be so great, you see
I'd rather play and just be me
So always remember this little quip
The name of the game is sportsmanship.

The Erindale Bulletin Board