Or I could just be a ticked off, ripped-off consumer. You decide.
So the story goes that I enrolled my daughter in a
volleyball club. She’s 15 and has never played volleyball before, but
my very tall daughter (she’s 5” 10”) appeared to show an interest in the
sport when she asked for a volleyball for her birthday. I gifted her
the ball and went one step further by signing her up for a local club
team.
It was a great mommy thing to do. Now, the not-so-great
consumer part: It costs $1,800 for my daughter to have the privilege
of being part of this club!
The ex-husband and I are splitting the cost, so that
took the sting out a bit. But I reasoned, “Oh, it will be worth the
money because she’s tall and probably has some hidden talent and perhaps
she finally found her sport.” It’s my duty as a mom to develop my
daughter’s potential anyway, right?
You can’t put a price on that.
So we’re about a month into weekend tournaments and my
daughter spends more time on the sidelines watching the other girls play
than she does on the court actually playing. Not that I’m keeping
track of her playing time, but I just happened to calculate the total
percentage of court time that she had last weekend and it amounted to
about 2% of the entire tournament.
And my blood was boiling! The coach glanced over at me a
few times because I was smokin’ hot. No, really. I’m pretty sure
flames were coming out of my ears.
OK, so maybe my daughter isn’t as experienced a player
as the other girls, who have been playing volleyball for 3-4 years
longer than her. But she goes to every practice and works her butt off,
just like the other girls. She runs, she hustles, she dives, she digs,
she blocks at the net, she has a pretty awesome overhead serve for a
beginner . . . and yet, she isn’t getting as much playing time as the
other girls in actual game situations.
Did I mention that we are paying $1,800 – just like all the other parents?
I did some Googling about “playing time,” and it turns
out that it is a hot button in youth sports programs across the globe.
There are plenty of parents, like me, wringing their hands and tempering
their frustration on the sidelines because their children are sitting
out while coaches continue to play their best players.
Frankly, I don’t think it’s fair. I’m seeing firsthand
that when you continue to play only the best girls, two things happen:
These elite few only get better in their athletic abilities, creating
an even greater divide between them and the other, not-so-experienced
players like my daughter, ensuring them even more playing time in the
future. And, something only a mom would notice: I see how wilted and
defeated my daughter looks on the sidelines.
(Or maybe I’m just imagining that, and looking at her through the wrong lens. Mine.)
When I think about all the money we’re spending/wasting
for my daughter to be nothing more than a substitute player, it makes me
mad, as a consumer — and breaks my heart, as a mother.
So I asked my daughter how she feels about not getting to play much in a tournament, and bless her heart, here’s what she said:
“It’s OK. I’m not good enough yet to play. I just need to work harder and get better at practice.”
The helicopter mom wanted to swoop in and wrap my arms
around my gigantic little girl and say, “Well, of course you’re good
enough! You can do anything!”
But I didn’t, because somewhere deep inside me, I knew she was right.
So I’ve decided to cool my jets and sit quietly on the
sidelines like a good little ripped off, ticked-off parent, with my
teeth planted firmly in a very wide leather strap.
Because character is being developed on – AND OFF – that
court. And I need to remember that’s something that no amount of money
could ever buy.
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