My son had a soccer game the other day. They lost. Oh well, these things happen. No biggie. Most of the kids had smiles on their faces within minutes of the whistle blowing. My son ran over to tell me, yet again, that he was “STARVING”. Dinner #2 here we come.
As we got into the car I noticed that he was particularly pensive. “What’s up?”, I asked. Pause and silence. “Are you OK?” I could sense his hesitation so I tried to fill in the blanks. “Are you upset about the loss? You know it’s no big deal. You guys beat them last time so it was just one of those things. You all played well it was just their night.” “No mom! It’s not that, OK?!” Frustration and irritation oozing from the backseat.
So, I left it for a bit and let him sit quietly with his thoughts while we drove. By the time we got home he was on to the next thing, his overwhelming starvation which is a recurring theme these days. He ate, watched a little TV, had a shower. I went in to snuggle with him as he crawled into bed, he turned to me and said, “I wasn’t upset about losing. I know we played our best. I was upset about something else.”
I waited. Patiently snuggling up to him as he came up with the words.
“I can’t stand J’s dad.” He murmured. OK, I think to myself. I get it. I totally get it.
Let me back up a little bit and give you some background.
J is a boy on my son’s soccer team. A nice boy. A hardworking, polite 11 year-old boy. J’s dad is a nice guy too but he can be an ugly fan. He doesn’t cheer excitedly from the sidelines, encouraging. He screams and criticizes and coaches. He singles out the boys by name and yells at the top of his voice, “Oh COME ON Steven! Run! What was THAT?! Get in the game! Kick it! First to the ball!! Run! Run!” Over and over and over. He yells at the refs and the other team’s coaches and the other team’s parents. A few times he has almost gotten in a fight.
The parents on the team all shrug and laugh because he is actually very nice when he is not “in the zone”. And, he always feels bad when he senses he has gone too far.
But, my son can’t stand it. He hears him calling his name, criticizing and he cringes. He hears him lash out at the other boys one by one and he gets anxious. My boy is distracted by the negative vibe and the game for him shifts. He’s no longer having fun, playing his hardest and enjoying the ride. He is trying to avoid this guy’s wrath.
So, my son and I talk. We talk about how J must feel when his dad behaves this way. We talk about how motivating the cheering from the fans can be and how demotivating it can be when the vibe shifts. We talk about why he plays. We talk about balance. And, most of all, we talk about his need to satisfy and please others. I encourage him to play for himself. I tell him he needs only to work hard and play for himself. He listens but we both know that this is only the first baby steps in a lifelong journey.
I kiss him goodnight and spend the next few hours reflecting. I think about my role as a fan and my responsibility to these kids. I think about our job as role models. And I think about how I wish J’s dad could have been a fly on the wall tonight.
What kind of fan are you? Do you know a fan like J’s dad? What would you do or say to your child?
The Your Biggest Fan
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