From time-to-time, we are lucky enough to get mommy blogger Brooke Romney into our studio to discuss parenthood.
We’ll be discussing youth sports with her tomorrow at 7:05am, but here’s a sample of the conversation from her blog, brookeromney.com
I love youth sports. I have four boys and they play them all the time. For the most part, win or lose, sports are something we enjoy and grow from. However, every once in a while, things get ugly, and it has never been uglier than one winter night on the basketball court.
My son started competition basketball pretty late in the game, as an eighth grader. He was on a team full of beginners and they had weathered a tough, winless season, each week playing teams significantly more skilled and more experienced. Each final score accentuated the difficult season with most games ending in an absolute slaughter.
The silver lining was a phenomenal coach who consistently taught them fundamentals, patiently encouraging and coaching them through each tough spot. He knew better than to expect a win, but he did expect improvement, and the boys delivered each week. After all, every athlete has to start somewhere.
Then came the dreaded game against, arguably, the best team in the league. As the opposing team walked onto the court, jaws dropped. Their shortest player was the same size as our tallest, and their average height had us by about 8 inches. Even as fans we understood the ominous David and Goliath moment as our kids snuck glances at the giants warming up across the court. Intimidation had set in, and by half time they had outscored us by 30 points.
At the beginning of the third quarter, the boys on the other side were obviously not taking things too seriously anymore, laughing when they shot an airball, joking around and giggling with their coaches on the bench. It was clear how they felt about playing a team like ours. To their credit, the boys were cool on the court, high-fiving our players when they made a shot and smiling and conversing with them on the foul line. Great athletes and nice kids, most likely enjoying the chance to take sports a little less seriously for a moment.
And then, at the beginning of the fourth quarter, the coach waved a little brother over to the bench who looked about 5 or 6 years younger than our boys. The coach gave him a jersey and told him to suit up. The eager boy excitedly put on the oversized top and the bench erupted with hoots and hollers while the game continued, uninterrupted on the court. The younger brother checked in with the score table amid raucous laughter from the other side. Then, in an instant, everyone painfully realized what was going on.
Our boys’ faces fell and their bodies deflated. All of a sudden they were aware that they were the object of all the mockery. The coaches and fathers from a far superior team found it necessary to put on a show at the expense of impressionable teens; to kick them when they were already down. For them, beating a team by 50 points wasn’t enough, they wanted to lord their superiority over the underdog until they had emotionally decimated those brand new basketball players..
For the rest of this blog and to see everything that Brooke is up to, check her out at brookeromney.com
About Brooke Romney
I am a blogger, speaker and freelance writer who resides just outside Salt Lake City. My husband and I are raising 4 active boys who consistently remind us that we are not nearly as cool as we thought we would be. I love to write about anything and everything, but especially about things that matter. I love sunshine, fall, travel, books, friendship, and seeing the world through someone else’s eyes. I try to chronicle the best (and some times worst) parts of my journey here.