Will Your Child Be a Sports Star? No Chance.

The remarkable players at the NCAA Basketball tournament were no doubt also the stars of their childhood teams, and they’ve beaten the odds by achieving a level of their (parents’) sports career dreams. But take your eyes off the action on the court for a minute and catch a glimpse of the many men-children on the bench — stars no longer — praying CoachGod will give them a chance. Just like their less talented teammates were doing back in high school.

See them cheering for the chosen ones – seven or so guys out of dozens who get to feel the elation of taking the team forward, or the crushing weight of missing the basket that could have made the difference. But either way, they had their chance.

So let’s hear it for the bench warmers, pine shiners, or whatever derogatory name we give those good enough to be on the team, but not good enough to play. They get to rush the court or the field or the ice and collect some of the cheer-spillover showered on the winners, pose for pictures with the trophy – right alongside those who actually make it happen. And they take their share of wrath and recriminations for lost games they didn’t even play.

I think that must feel worse than not being on the team at all.

Certainly by the college level, young athletes understand that for their schools and particularly their coaches, it is absolutely about winning, no matter how it feels to those who don’t play. I kind of get this.

What I don’t get are the youth coaches I’ve known who let players age seven to 17 sit on the bench because giving them a serving of self-esteem and a chance to improve isn’t worth risking the win. And parents want their kids on the team bad enough to be OK with that.

We encouraged (pushed, bribed, threatened) our son to stick with hockey through his senior year, but he really only kept playing because he always got a little playing time. He wasn’t a star, not even close. But he was given the opportunities to learn his defensive position well enough to contribute to positive outcomes, and in the game where his team surprisingly won the state championship in sudden-death overtime, he even scored an assist.

When they skated out for that glorious team hug, surrounded by the temporary love and admiration of a roaring crowd, my son knew he earned some of that adulation. He’d contributed to the win, if only in a small way.

And the reason he was able to do his part? He was blessed with coaches who gave him a chance.