Refrigerator Copy

Column published the week of April 21, 2008 www.theleeonline.com © 2008, Lee Ostaszewski

Play Ball

By Lee Ostaszewski Spring sports are now in full swing for my two sons, Kevin and Chris. So if this week’s column seems a little bit hurried, as if I wrote most of it down on leftover McDonald’s napkins using my car’s dashboard as a desk and steering with my elbow while heading between baseball fields and soccer fields and back to a different baseball field – where no one was at! – then rushing back to another soccer field where I just remembered I was supposed to pick them up; well then, let me assure you that this is all simply your imagin-(“Hey buddy, who taught you how to drive, Lindsay Lohan?”) -ation. Beth and I love this time of year. We both know that the busy youth sports stage of a parent’s life is short-lived. Before we know it Kevin and Chris will be out on their own and we’ll no longer be rushing from field to field every fall and spring and instead will find ourselves with the sort of endless amounts of free time that inevitably leads older, married couples to argue over how the glassware should be arranged in the cupboard or which one loads the dishwasher more efficiently. They start smelling funny, too. Past generations don’t always appreciate the enthusiasm for youth sports that parents today demonstrate. For example, my own parents grew up during the Great Depression and therefore felt a child’s time would be better spent doing something more productive, such as mowing the lawn, pulling weeds, re-roofing the house, working ten hour shifts in a sweatshop sewing buttons on shirts, or running rum up the Atlantic coast. The sort of fond childhood memories they reminisced about. But today’s parents believe that youth sports can be a great way for a child to get exercise, learn teamwork, and mature into young adults, with the only goal being that they have fun and eventually sign a multi-year contract with a professional sports team. And maybe do sneaker commercials. But youth sports can also be extremely enjoyable for the parent. Attending games gives the parent a chance to socialize with other parents while supporting their child by yelling helpful and timely instructions at them from the

sideline the way some people in big cities stand on street corners yelling instructions at passing taxi cabs, birds, invisible dinosaurs, etc. In other words frantically and yet incoherently: “Johnny, run after the ball...wait, go back...no, forward, forward...Ooooooh...ouch...shake it off...now, run after the ball...stop, tie your shoe...now get back, back...no, forward.” If it is not your style to stand with the other parents babbling in tongues at your child, who because of a biological condition known as being your offspring refuses to listen to you anyway, you can always volunteer to coach. Coaching youth sports is a tremendous opportunity for any adult who feels being ignored by their own children simply isn’t enough. They want an entire squad of children ignoring them. I’m only kidding. Partly. Coaching can be extremely satisfying. Especially satisfying are those rare moments when your players do exactly as you coached them to do. Which in most cases happens purely by chance. Like winning the lottery. By the way, it is important as a youth coach to remember you are out there for the children. It is their game to play, not yours. So keep that in mind when they lose. Be sure to gather them together after a loss and gently point out to them how it was their fault and you, as the adult not playing the game, had nothing to do with it. But should they win, try to take as much credit for yourself as you possibly can. Why not? So whether you decide to coach or just stand on the sidelines ranting and swatting at imaginary bugs, the important thing is that your child knows you’re there to support and to embarrass them. It is especially important to embarrass them in front of their friends. Listen, they need to toughen up somehow. It isn’t going to happen playing video games. We must make sure our kids can take whatever life throws at them. And if that means excessively rooting for them to the point where they can’t show their face in school the next day, hey, I call that good parenting. Besides, if we don’t screw our children up, where will the next generation of humorists and comedians come from? ■