What Do Kids Want Their Parents to Do at Games?

What Do Kids Want Their Parents to Do at Games?

“Keep your eye on the ball, son!”

I can almost guarantee that nearly every dad or mom reading this article is guilty of shouting those words during their kid’s little league baseball game. Which is more than okay. But how much shouting is not okay?

My dad grew up on a lake, where water skiing was the thing to do, and my mom was a competitive cheerleader. Beyond that, my parents had little exposure to sports. And they certainly didn’t spend much time in little league baseball parks when they were younger. When I was growing up, the norm was to get your kids into little league baseball or soccer at a young age. So my parents enrolled me.

When I was in tee ball, I was always the kid who would spend my time in the outfield, trying to find the coolest rock, and it didn’t really bother my parents because they didn’t have dreams of my becoming an MLB star. Don’t get me wrong—my parents wanted me to grow up active and healthy. But they were never the parents who were shouting at me from the stands. It just wasn’t the sort of thing they were brought up to do.

As you can imagine, many parents of my teammates were the opposite. They had dreams of their four-year-olds playing under the bright lights, and they were willing to do anything in their power to get them there. Yes, these kids were only four or five or six years old, and some were attending no fewer than five or six lessons a week. It seemed to me that most of these parents had grown up heavily in sports and wanted to live their lost playing careers through their toddlers.

My dad didn’t know a ton about sport technique, so he assumed that he should leave coaching up to, well, the coaches. Especially during the game. On the drive home after the games, we’d talk about what transpired on the field a little, but it wasn’t the hot topic of conversation. Neither I nor he was that enthusiastic about it at the time, and that was okay with us. Our lives didn’t revolve around sports (yet). To compare, I remember growing up with kids who would get the belt in the bathroom of the rec league park if they struck out or had a bad game. Get the belt! Even if the kid had played a good bit better than me.

A lot of movies and shows paint a picture of this angry sports-phenom father figure: the guy who’s always shouting at his son after a football game, telling him he isn’t good enough, or won’t be as good as his old man was in high school. These types of dads usually have an intoxicated mindset; it’s “professional sports or bust” for their kids. The sad part is this isn’t just a movie trope. This kind of thing happens all the time in the real world. Like, I had a teammate on my high school baseball team who was always late to our dinners and team get-togethers after the game because his dad had to rat him out, in front of everyone, about how he could've played better. The dad was so sure that he knew more than the coach that he was constantly in his son’s ear during his entire at-bat, or when he had an error in the infield. It seemed like the only connection that they had was baseball. Like they couldn’t even connect on a personal level.

I’m not saying that you shouldn’t be enthusiastic at your kids’ sporting events. In fact, do engage at the game! What I remember most from my youth career is always seeing my mom’s and dad’s faces in the stands and how happy their presence made me. They didn’t have to make an obnoxious scene to show their support. Just the fact that they showed consistently, when they were both busy and worked full time for most of my youth career, was a big deal. Despite their loaded schedules, they were always able to push aside personal conflicts to show up to my games with a smile on their face. My mom, she was always the loudest in the stands. Whenever I made a great play or hit a home run, I could always distinguish her cheer from the others. And my parents’ love and compassion toward me never changed after the game, even if I had played a bad game. This showed me that their support for me would never waver—in little league baseball and in the real world. That, to me, was more than enough.

My parents would spend entire weekends at the ballpark watching us play. They loved it, not only because they loved the kids and the sport, but because they were willing to sacrifice their time to show they had my back no matter what event I was participating in. I’m positive they would’ve done the exact same thing if I spent my time competing in chess tournaments. They weren’t there for the sports. They were there for me. These actions helped solidify the strong foundation I experienced in my family at a very early age. Having a strong foundation is important to becoming closer to and more open with your children.

I believe that you should help your son find that thing he enjoys. But I do know there’s a fine line between helping him find a passion and forcing a passion upon him. If every single one of your conversations with your son revolves around sports, maybe you should consider discussing other subjects, too: school, relationships, faith—if you’re a believer—and hobbies they might want to pursue. Maybe your son won’t be that MLB star you always dreamed he would be. But that’s perfectly okay. It’ll be okay, as soon as you start to accept it.