Parents and Sports Don’t Mix

This weekend, I had no choice but to take in my sister’s ringette game against a much stronger opponent.  Don’t get me wrong, ringette is a fast and entertaining sport that deserves respect because of the coordination and athletic ability you need to play the game.

This piece is not meant to bash the sport.  This piece is meant to bash to parents of this sport.  I show up at the rink, freezing cold from the snow and wind outside that already put me in a bit of a bad mood.  That being said, I go to take a seat in the stands when a throng of maybe eight-or-so parents who I didn’t know come and join me in the uncomfortable seats.  No problem, I’m not anti-social.

The one of them, a women in her early forties, opens her mouth and suddenly it hits me.  This was going to be an absolutely brutal game.

In the first period, my sisters team was losing 4-1 and not executing their systems very well at all.  That being said, you can imagine that the parents, particularly this “fan” starting yelling and mumbling under their breathe things like “oh my God this is brutal, why can’t we break out?

After just twenty minutes I had to go sit somewhere else by myself because I didn’t expect there to be any bandwagon Canucks fans at a ringette game in which the oldest player is 17-years-old?  Listening to these parents was nauseating because they all seem to know everything about the game and they all seemed to know what the players should and shouldn’t be doing at every second of the game. 

Cheering is one thing, but how can parents be so critical of their kids, who are there to participate in these sports simply for fun?  Ringette, in particular, is not a sport with major opportunities to advance in.

The worst thing for amateur sports are the parents that live vicariously through their children. 

It puts a negative spin on something that is meant to be competitive but FUN!  It’s unfair to put such negative pressure on people playing a game for fun and not only that it’s nauseating. So if you’re a parent who criticizes the play of your kids’ team, then shut up.

Best of the Best: Part VII – Feel Good Stories

Lebron James

I was just reading a few sports articles, as I continued to procrastinate from school work, when I came across a story on Cleveland Cavaliers’ star LeBron James

Apparently, James and the Lebron James Family Foundation treated 800 locals, most of whom are homeless, to a thanksgiving dinner at Quicken Loans Arena, and then to a movie this past Monday. He also gave families free gift cards for groceries and free transportation passes over the holidays.  

“It’s great to see the smiles on kids’ faces,” James said. “That’s the most important thing to me. It really means a lot to them and it’s special for me.” 

Now that’s using power and money for the right reasons. 

“I’m in a position where I’m able to do things like this. It’s not like I have to, it’s because I want to. I know I can’t fulfill every kid’s dream. But I’m thankful I can do something like this, especially during the holidays.” 

This is a very heartwarming story and a much needed one especially for the NBA and sports in general. James, who is one of the league’s bona fide superstars, understands that he has the ability to give back, and – take notes pro athletes – that’s exactly what he does.

It’s nice to see that not all sport figures are bitter and selfish … 

Another great sports moment, which happened over a year and a half ago, is about an autistic high school basketball player named Jason McElwain.

Watch this inspirational story, which is worth retelling over and over again.

Continuing on with this theme, Rick Reilly, one of my favourite sports writers, has compiled so many amazing articles, which makes you want to go out and be a better person after reading it. 

Here are just a few examples of his feel-good articles on Sports Illustrated:

But one of my all-time favourite has to be this story:

The World’s Greatest Father 

From Sports Illustrated, By Rick Reilly

I try to be a good father. Give my kids mulligans. Work nights to pay for their text messaging. Take them to swimsuit shoots.

But compared with Dick Hoyt, I suck.

Eighty-five times he’s pushed his disabled son, Rick, 26.2 miles in Marathons. Eight times he’s not only pushed him 26.2 miles in a wheelchair but also towed him 2.4 miles in a dinghy while swimming and pedaled him 112 miles in a seat on the handlebars–all in the same day.

Dick’s also pulled him cross-country skiing, taken him on his back mountain climbing and once hauled him across the U.S. on a bike. Makes taking your son bowling look a little lame, right?

And what has Rick done for his father? Not much–except save his life.

This love story began in Winchester , Mass. , 43 years ago, when Rick Was strangled by the umbilical cord during birth, leaving him brain-damaged and unable to control his limbs.

“He’ll be a vegetable the rest of his life;” Dick says doctors told him And his wife, Judy, when Rick was nine months old. “Put him in an Institution.”

But the Hoyts weren’t buying it. They noticed the way Rick’s eyes followed them around the room. When Rick was 11 they took him to the Engineering department at Tufts University and asked if there was anything to help the boy communicate. “No way,” Dick says he was told. “There’s nothing going on in his brain.”

“Tell him a joke,” Dick countered. They did. Rick laughed. Turns out a lot was going on in his brain. Rigged up with a computer that allowed him to control the cursor by touching a switch with the side of his head, Rick was finally able to communicate. First words? “Go Bruins!”

And after a high school classmate was paralyzed in an accident and the school organized a charity run for him, Rick pecked out, “Dad, I want To do that.”

Yeah, right. How was Dick, a self-described “porker” who never ran more than a mile at a time, going to push his son five miles? Still, he tried. “Then it was me who was handicapped,” Dick says. “I was sore for two weeks.”

That day changed Rick’s life. “Dad,” he typed, “when we were running, it felt like I wasn’t disabled anymore!”

And that sentence changed Dick’s life. He became obsessed with giving Rick that feeling as often as he could. He got into such hard-belly shape that he and Rick were ready to try the 1979 Boston Marathon.

“No way,” Dick was told by a race official. The Hoyts weren’t quite a single runner, and they weren’t quite a wheelchair competitor. For a few years Dick and Rick just joined the massive field and ran anyway, then they found a way to get into the race officially: In 1983 they ran another marathon so fast they made the qualifying time for Boston the following year.

Then somebody said, “Hey, Dick, why not a triathlon?”

How’s a guy who never learned to swim and hadn’t ridden a bike since he was six going to haul his 110-pound kid through a triathlon? Still, Dick tried.

Now they’ve done 212 triathlons, including four grueling 15-hour Ironmans in Hawaii . It must be a buzzkill to be a 25-year-old stud getting passed by an old guy towing a grown man in a dinghy, don’t you think?

Hey, Dick, why not see how you’d do on your own? “No way,” he says. Dick does it purely for “the awesome feeling” he gets seeing Rick with a cantaloupe smile as they run, swim and ride together.

This year, at ages 65 and 43, Dick and Rick finished their 24th Boston Marathon, in 5,083rd place out of more than 20,000 starters. Their best time? Two hours, 40 minutes in 1992–only 35 minutes off the world record, which, in case you don’t keep track of these things, happens to be held by a guy who was not pushing another man in a wheelchair at the time.

“No question about it,” Rick types. “My dad is the Father of the Century.”

And Dick got something else out of all this too. Two years ago he had a mild heart attack during a race. Doctors found that one of his arteries was 95% clogged. “If you hadn’t been in such great shape,” One doctor told him, “you probably would’ve died 15 years ago.” So, in a way, Dick and Rick saved each other’s life.

Rick, who has his own apartment (he gets home care) and works in Boston, and Dick, retired from the military and living in Holland, Mass. , always find ways to be together. They give speeches around the country and compete in some backbreaking race every weekend, including this Father’s Day.

That night, Rick will buy his dad dinner, but the thing he really wants to give him is a gift he can never buy.

“The thing I’d most like,” Rick types, “is that my dad sit in the chair and I push him once.”

Watch their video. It’s truly unbelievable.