Learning the wrong lessons from sports

And his bravado emboldens me to raise issues about which most parents daren't speak, for fear of their child being blackballed from a sport.

I have long been outspoken about the politics of kids' sports, and frequently downright disgusted at the backhanded lessons our children continually learn from athletics. Sports as a metaphor for life - can't get much more cliched than that.

These are some of my favorite sporting lessons:

"Life's not fair, deal with it."

"Sports are more important than anything in your life, including family vacations or holidays."

Or how about: "It doesn't matter how much of a team player you are, it only matters if you suck up to the right person."

Then there's: "Win at all costs."

Don't forget: "You are entirely disposable. Play by our impossible rules, show up at every overscheduled practice and long-distance game, to hell with homework, free time and life in general, because this is your mandate. If you're unwilling to do it, there's someone biting at your heels who will be happy to take your place."

Now, it is true, these are life lessons we all learn. I guess my generation was lucky enough to learn these in adulthood, not when barely out of diapers. Nowadays children of 10 or 12 are seasoned veterans of the disappointments of athletics - even if they persist in playing because they're expected to, because they don't know what else to do with all that time they've abandoned to a sport, or because maybe they still love to play, despite all the nonsense that accompanies it.

I am saddened that our children have to dedicate themselves so fully to a single sport by the time they're 9. This commitment eclipses most other activities, be they music lessons, homework or simply time to get together with friends after school.

My nephew made the grave mistake of attempting to play football even though he's a pipsqueak. An adorable pipsqueak, mind you, with a heart of gold, a passion for sports and a commitment to the team that led him to never miss a practice or a game and never complain, even though his coaches mostly benched him. All he wanted to do was emulate his football heroes, despite his size constraints.

My brother often coaches his boys' teams, but workcommitments precluded him from so doing this year, leaving him with no control over how his child was treated on this team. Thus he watched from the bleachers week in and week out as his child was shunned and humiliated, with the coaches' sons and the bigger kids playing entire games while his child played a few meager minutes.

He'd had enough by the time one of the coaches' wives contacted him, asking him to be sure his son Stevie wrote a laudatory paragraph about how wonderful the coaches were, to be read aloud at a banquet with his teammates' equally gushing adulation for their leaders.

Now Joe was always a renegade, one to subversively stick it to "the Man."

Even though he's now a buttoned-up conservative Manhattanite who usually plays the game by the rules, this time it was just more than he could bear. The fact that the team banquet was structured to praise the coaches, rather than the peewee players, just sent him over the edge.

Here's what he wrote back to the coach's wife:

"I've written the speech for Stephen - how's this sound- 'For the rest of my life I will always fondly remember how I worked my butt off in the heat of August and after school throughout the autumn so that the coaches would count down my 10 minimum plays (just four plays during game one). - This of course was important so that the coaches could immediately take me out of the game and insert smarter, faster and stronger players, thus ensuring a victory for the team."

No word on how the woman received the response.

But I do know Joe's wife is not speaking to him - because he won't be the one attending this week's sports banquet; he'll be out of town on business. Instead, she gets to deal with the ostracism by other parents at the banquet, who no doubt by now know all about Joe's passive/aggressive defense of his child's honor.

But at least he taught his son an important lesson: Do right by your child, even if it's not the popular response.

There have been occasions when my children have been graced with phenomenally humane coaches. My youngest's basketball coach last year ensured that all kids played, understood when kids missed practices, even rescheduled a game that conflicted with a school dance.

They won all but one game - when half the team attended the Red Hot Chili Peppers concert instead, with her blessing. She taught my daughter that a sport can be kind, gentle and winning, and doesn't have to leave a bitter taste behind after the child has partaken in it.

I doubt there is a solution to the problem of sports as the toxic monster it has become.

Between those in charge whose professional success hinges upon their team's triumphs, and parents who are bent on living vicariously through their children's athletic accolades, I fear the creature will keep growing and gobbling up all the wonderful benefits of athletics along the way. And the Stevies of the world will never have a chance to truly appreciate the joy of sport, mired as they are in the ugly realities of it.

I guess the upside of all this is that it makes you appreciate the coaches who are in it for the right reasons and are looking out for our kids' best interests.

Jenny Gardiner is a locally based writer and radio commentator. Her first novel, "Sleeping with Ward Cleaver," will be released in February. E-mail her at .