The Parent Side of Things

Over the years I have stood in front of parents as a teacher and coach and I have delivered the same message: Let me be the coach.  I need parents to be the child’s number one cheerleader and to support what I am doing as they encourage their kids.

Saturday I had the opportunity to practice what I have preached. 

Bailey (Boo) had her first swimming competition, and when we arrived at the school she was complaining of a stomachache.

She was stuck to my arm and had no intentions of letting go.  One of her coaches came up to get her from me, and Boo just looked up at me as if to say,  “No, Dad, I don’t want to swim.”

Now, deep down inside I believed that she was okay to swim. That she was just nervous and scared to swim in front of all of those people.  However, when the coach looked at me, the first thing that came out of my mouth was an excuse for my sweet little Boo: “Her stomach hurts. I don’t know if she will be able to swim.”

My message was received by a blank stare and then the coach grabbed Boo by the hand and they left to go warm up.  As Boo looked back, I summonsed all the courage I had and told her to “man up” (common phrase in our house) before walking away.

I headed to a parent viewing area and watched a coach talk and encourage Boo for about ten minutes.  I really don’t know what he was saying, but his body language was compassionate yet stern at the same time.  It was also obvious that she was going to get in that pool, one way or another. 

Standing there watching, there were many moments where I wanted to intervene. To tell Boo what to do, or maybe even tell the coach what to do.  It was at that moment I began to laugh at myself and say, “Okay player. Time to practice what you preach.  Let the coaches do what they do.” 

I stood there with my mouth shut, and forced myself not to try to “help” the coach, or save my little girl.  And soon after, Boo was in the pool, getting ready for her race.  Now, she was still nervous­ – and had no idea what was going on – but she accepted the fact that she was going to race. 

As Boo got ready for her event, I looked over at the coach and got ready to say thank you, but realized that he had already moved on to helping another kid prepare for their race.  He had done his job with Boo and was moving on to do work with someone else. The moment that was so impactful for Boo (and me) was just another coach-student encounter for him.

Finally, the gun went off for Boo’s race.

And she stood there.

Honestly. She just stood there as the other kids flew into the water. 

About two seconds later she (finally) dove in and began to swim. 

And when she came up for a breath, I saw a smile on her face.  A smile that screamed:  “I’m doing it!”  When the race ended, her smile got even bigger, and all she wanted to know when her next race was.

Now she didn’t win (I think she was 4/8), but she did the most important thing, in my opinion: 

She didn’t quit. 

She persevered through a difficult situation; she took a step toward developing grit. 

All joking aside, I don’t think that sports are the most important thing in life.  However, there are many life lessons that can be taught through sports.  I don’t remember the names of all of my teachers or coaches, but the ones that I do remember are the ones that pushed me.  The ones that forced me to work harder, to become more humble, to play the role that I was asked to play even when it wasn’t the one I wanted to play.  The ones that taught me about life, and how to deal with life.  I remember names like Mrs. Johnson, Mr. Callahan, Coach Erik, Coach Suds, Coach York and Flaschberger. 

(I must also point out that I might not have had the opportunity to be impacted by these people if my parents would have tried to save me or make excuses for me.)

As a teacher and a coach I have been blessed enough to have kids come back to me and thank me for the impact I have had in their lives. To thank me for pushing them.  I sit here and smile to think of people like Red, Ruby, Deon, Alex, Joaquin, Angie, Allen, and others.  As thankful as they might be for me, I am equally thankful for their parents.  Without their parents’ willingness to trust me, I don’t think that I would have had the same impact on them.  I guarantee that those young people did not like me all of the time.  In fact many of them cried at least once, and their parents could have stepped in and said, “No more!” 

But they didn’t. 

They let me do my job and in the process we – as a team – impacted a young life in a positive way.

So, was it hard to sit back and watch my baby girl cry and not save her?

Yes.

But was the reward was amazing?

Yes.

Man, raising kids is the hardest thing I have ever done.  But I am looking forward to letting the teachers and coaches in my kids’ lives help my wife and me raise our girls.

It takes a village!