I close my eyes and I’m immediately transported to my middle school gymnasium—it’s hell.
It doesn’t really matter what activity we were doing; I hated them all. The rope climbing in front of the whole class? Horrific. The mile run? I thought I was dying. Picking teams for dodgeball… and then getting hurled by those rubber balls? Nightmare-inducing.
If gym class was hell, my lack of ability, coupled with zero interest, carried over into the various sports fields as well. I tried soccer one season (I have a memory of being in the goalie net, scared for my life), and I dribbled around a basketball here and there, but never made a team. I couldn’t sprint to save my life and, overall, avoided all athletic endeavors. My interests were more of the artistic type; I danced for 14 years, I participated in our school’s plays and musicals, and I was actively involved in the newspaper and yearbook.
It’s safe to say that as I entered adulthood, I didn’t spend my free time watching games or hitting up the local sports bars. I can’t tell you the difference between a field goal and a fumble, and I had no interest in learning the rules of football, either (or soccer, hockey, baseball).
And then I had children. Three boys, to be exact, and I started to become a sports mom.
You May Also Like:
Starting my sports mom journey
Per usual with so many parenting moments, my childhood anxieties resurfaced. Any therapist could tell you this was par for the course.
Over the recent years, as my boys get older, sports have become an active player in our family life, and I’m on a mission to change my often apathetic, sometimes negative, approach to athletics, to embrace my sons’ interests and, dare I say, even learn a bit in the process.
Read More: Is your kid entering their sports era? Read one mom’s perspective on managing all the kids’ extracurriculars.
Trying different sports and finding a favorite
My oldest son, now eight, has tried a few different sports over the years, from soccer and basketball to hockey and skating. Toddler soccer wasn’t successful (might as well just herd cats), but actual soccer has been his go-to in recent years. He’s progressed from bopping around the field to fully charging ahead, scoring goals, and even giving the goalie position a try.
As he’s evolved, so have I. I began with little knowledge of the game itself, of youth sports, of how I wanted to approach and parent my child in these environments. Soccer and my oldest son have been the training wheels for us as a family as we enter this arena, and today I stand tall as a proud “soccer mom”.
How did I get here? Baby kicks along the way, from learning names and speaking respectively to asking questions and learning to advocate when needed.
Cheering on the entire team
I remember reading the advice that when your child is on a sports team, make an effort to learn every single player’s name… and to cheer them all on, not just your child. This tip has stuck with me, sport to sport, game to game, and I’m amazed by what a simple act can do. I love it wholeheartedly – so simple, so kind! – and share it with everyone. I strive to learn every name at the beginning of each season, and it has a domino effect. When all the parents cheer—by name—for all the players, it immediately creates a feeling of inclusion, of support, of teamwork, and that is exactly the type of environment I hope my child experiences when playing sports.
“When all the parents cheer—by name—for all the players, it immediately creates a feeling of inclusion, of support, of teamwork.”
By giving my attention to my son’s teammates, practices, and games, I’ve found myself getting invested, noticing, and learning the nuances of each sport. This isn’t to say I know or understand every single rule—or that I even attempt to—but it shows I’m paying attention and I’m trying. My son loves it when I ask questions about a play, about a drill he was just doing. He knows I care, and he’s excited to explain his interests to me. It’s a bonding opportunity that never fails (even if he finds it hilarious that he’s already better at shooting hoops than mom).
Paying attention has helped me learn the rules—and love the game
The more I watch, the more I learn, the more I enjoy. I can often be heard enthusiastically yelling from the sidelines for my son and for every kiddo running around on the field. I’ve come to genuinely love it, and while I know it may embarrass him one day, he beams when he sees me so excited to be there.
I make a conscious effort to lead by example, and never speak negatively of another team, of their coaches, of a game, even if I disagree with a call or approach. We can learn from our losses, bad plays, from undesirable behavior, and at the end of the day, I hope my children learn good sportsmanship from their time in youth sports; it’s up to me to be the first person they see demonstrating that. Our children feed off that energy, and so does the whole team. It is a ripple effect.
Because, unfortunately, it’s never too young to experience unsportsmanlike behavior.
Learning sportsmanship lessons the hard way
My middle son didn’t take to soccer like his older brother (“I like it except for the running part”) but was eager to give baseball a shot. I welcome trial and error when it comes to different sports, as there is no need to commit to just one for life (he’s six). While I encourage big dreams and going after their goals, I’m also a realist and foresee years of fun on the field versus a career in the major leagues. And so this fall we arrived at the diamond, and though my son was easily the least experienced on the team, he gave it his all. I was in absolute awe of his courage and effort.
It was only a couple of weeks into the season, though, when another team’s player chose to tell my son exactly what he thought of his baseball ability… and it wasn’t kind. My son became silent, and my heart broke. But he returned to the field and finished the game as tears gathered in my eyes.
That night, we spoke of choosing encouraging words, of trying your best, of not being embarrassed, and of the amazing act of learning. Ultimately, I chose to alert the coach, and the response was attentive and active. We all agreed that teaching sportsmanship was just as important—if not more—than how to hit a ball.
Looking ahead as a youth sports mom
I know it was just the first of many sports injuries—there are bound to be many physical and emotional hits to come. But helping my son advocate for himself, guiding him to talk to his coach, and reminding him of his worth, no matter how many home runs, were prime examples of what I hope sports can teach my boys. Because when I take a step back, that is what I hope my sons gain from their sports experiences over the years.
I welcome any activity that offers the opportunity to learn teamwork, to learn kindness and sportsmanship, and to take care of their bodies. I also don’t want to limit any chance to know my children on a deeper level, and that means their interests and passions. So fill me in on the rules of the game, show me how you throw that ball, and explain to me that amazing soccer players kick.
Parenthood brings with it its fair share of surprises, and I’m learning that a love for sports may just be one of mine.
Liz Greene, Contributing Writer
Liz is a lifestyle writer living on the East Coast with her husband and three little boys. Her days are filled with endless messes, tons of cold coffee, Post-It notes transcribed with everything she’s worried she’ll forget, and lots and lots of baby wipes—and she wouldn’t have it any other way. Liz was previously an editor at Style Me Pretty.
