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I love soccer, and I’m fortunate to live in a place where soccer takes a back seat to football, tee-ball, and little league.
This is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, our fields are so bad that battling for the ball in some sections stirs up a massive cloud that gives players an inadvertent history lesson on what the dust bowl days were like and leaves them coughing and sputtering as they try to see through the grit in their eyes. What would be a simple tumble on a good, grassy field can mean cuts and scrapes from a surface pock-marked with stones. And forget learning ball control when various bumps and hollows can send the ball in any direction at any time.
Then there is the stench of sewage—yes, sewage—that bubbles up in some places in the field and is connected to a problem with the civic center’s plumbing system, and the demoralizing sight of shiny, new, even, rock-less fields being installed right next door for use, I hear, by youth football.
But there is a silver lining to that filthy dust cloud. Our game days and practices are generally and delightfully free of some of the biggest problems that plague youth sports.
I’ve heard parents at soccer games talk about their experiences in other sports. They complain about parents coming to blows during games, coaches and parents screaming at each other, bad sportsmanship that goes unchecked and in some cases is ignored or even rewarded. And they worried about the example this set for their children.
This isn’t unusual. There have been countless stories from all over the country outlining the bad behavior of parents in youth sports. So I feel fortunate that my kids are able to play the sport they love without the depressing spectacle--and disturbing influence--of mom telling little Johnny to go kick that guy’s ass, Johnny’s dad screaming obscenities and threats at an opponent’s father, or either one of them locked in a battle with a referee or coach.
If soccer were king here, we’d have the same problems. And though youth soccer parents and fans aren’t perfect, the culture of youth soccer is pretty positive. You are far more likely to hear Johnny’s mom rooting for Johnny’s teammates and even, God forbid, his opponents when they do something particularly well. Johnny’s dad is probably chatting up another dad, telling him he’s noticed how much his daughter has improved over the years.
There is definite cheering and, sure, sometimes even a disappointed groan or two, but for the most part these parents are relaxing on the sidelines where they belong and letting their kids shine.
Since most kids can’t count on being professional athletes, it stands to reason that youth sports are probably more about physical activity, character, the virtue of competition, and good sportsmanship.
Here, where soccer isn’t king, my kids are able to glean those messages and values while on that pock-marked field, though, granted, their ball control skills will suffer.
This is a mixed blessing. On the one hand, our fields are so bad that battling for the ball in some sections stirs up a massive cloud that gives players an inadvertent history lesson on what the dust bowl days were like and leaves them coughing and sputtering as they try to see through the grit in their eyes. What would be a simple tumble on a good, grassy field can mean cuts and scrapes from a surface pock-marked with stones. And forget learning ball control when various bumps and hollows can send the ball in any direction at any time.
Then there is the stench of sewage—yes, sewage—that bubbles up in some places in the field and is connected to a problem with the civic center’s plumbing system, and the demoralizing sight of shiny, new, even, rock-less fields being installed right next door for use, I hear, by youth football.
But there is a silver lining to that filthy dust cloud. Our game days and practices are generally and delightfully free of some of the biggest problems that plague youth sports.
I’ve heard parents at soccer games talk about their experiences in other sports. They complain about parents coming to blows during games, coaches and parents screaming at each other, bad sportsmanship that goes unchecked and in some cases is ignored or even rewarded. And they worried about the example this set for their children.
This isn’t unusual. There have been countless stories from all over the country outlining the bad behavior of parents in youth sports. So I feel fortunate that my kids are able to play the sport they love without the depressing spectacle--and disturbing influence--of mom telling little Johnny to go kick that guy’s ass, Johnny’s dad screaming obscenities and threats at an opponent’s father, or either one of them locked in a battle with a referee or coach.
If soccer were king here, we’d have the same problems. And though youth soccer parents and fans aren’t perfect, the culture of youth soccer is pretty positive. You are far more likely to hear Johnny’s mom rooting for Johnny’s teammates and even, God forbid, his opponents when they do something particularly well. Johnny’s dad is probably chatting up another dad, telling him he’s noticed how much his daughter has improved over the years.
There is definite cheering and, sure, sometimes even a disappointed groan or two, but for the most part these parents are relaxing on the sidelines where they belong and letting their kids shine.
Since most kids can’t count on being professional athletes, it stands to reason that youth sports are probably more about physical activity, character, the virtue of competition, and good sportsmanship.
Here, where soccer isn’t king, my kids are able to glean those messages and values while on that pock-marked field, though, granted, their ball control skills will suffer.
B.
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