Confessions of a Sports Parent: Sports Wounds

(This is the second part of the series, it might be helpful to read the first here)

We have all heard flight attendants say to adults and caregivers, especially parents, to be sure to apply your oxygen mask first before helping others. The thought, of course, is if you run out of oxygen yourself, you can’t help anyone else with theirs, especially children.

That is a good image for me when I try to stay balanced as a sports parent. When I find myself out of balance, it usually happens when my old sports wounds, fears, or anxieties rear their ugly heads. I refer to these things as my shadows. Consequently, when I watch my boys play sports from my shadows, at the very least, I lose perspective and, at most, pass on my sports wounds to them. That old Tim McGraw song comes to mind, “the sins of the father, become the sins of the son.”

Fortunately, or unfortunately, it depends on the day; I have had years of trying to unpack my shadows. And that is what it is. To unpack is the ability to see and name. It examines what, why, and where these fears and anxieties come from. To some extent, the anxieties and fears are self-inflicted, usually coming from the compare-and-compete trap that all parents try and play. That said, those things are just silly. The deep wounds are the ones that last, and if not dealt with through some serious soul searching, will control you and impact relationships, especially with our kids.  

Without a doubt, after talking with others and years of looking into my own shadows, even with the help of a therapist, the number one cause of sports wounds comes down to a crisis of identity. Simply put, my worth as a human being is based on my athletic ability. This message can come from the culture, community, friends, and, most dangerously, from parents. It is a wound that believes I am loved based on my ability to compete and win against another individual. Or that I am loved because I have superior athletic skills to other people. Now, does that mean having the athletic ability is somehow wrong? I don’t believe so; it is a gift, just like it is a gift to have musical talent, the arts, or academically. The problem comes when that gift defines you as a person.  

I was lucky to have parents who loved Brett, their son, who was an ok athlete. Not, a really good athlete, who happened to be their son. Context is everything, and that context saved my life. In some ways, that fundamental understanding, even if I couldn’t put it into words, kept me from injuring myself when my sports identity was exposed as a lie. No wonder there is an 80% addiction rate for most ex-professional athletes. The longer that lie is lived, the harder it is to see it as a lie, so we need something to medicate us.

When the sports lie was exposed, it was the most frightening thing I had ever experienced. I remember looking into the mirror and not seeing anyone looking back. I had built my life on this lie and didn’t know who I was anymore. I had no other identity to lean back on other than being unconditionally loved by my parents for no other reason than being Brett. Furthermore, the unconditional love I received from my parents became the conduit to my faith and the understanding of being unconditionally loved by God. No commandment or scripture study could have taught me that. It was experiential, and it was through sports.

There is an excellent quote from the Swiss psychiatrist Carl Jung. He says, “nothing affects a child’s life so much as the unlived life of its parent.” In other words, adults who don’t do “shadow work” will pass on their wounds to their children. This is why adults have to be adults when it comes to sports. Developmentally, kids will define themselves as football players, artists, dancers, etc. We, as parents, must define them as something else. Something more holistic. Something more profound and true.  

My wife and I have a saying in our house before our boys go to school or participate in sports. That is, “Be Jack.” “Be Andrew.” Nothing more, nothing less. You are not defined by what you do, what team you are on, or the grades you get; you are loved for being Jack… for being Andrew. It is subtle, and it is consistent. And hopefully, it is sinking in a bit.

Ultimately, this is an ongoing process and journey for our kids and us as parents. Our kids will have to go through their own understanding of identity and worth. As sports parents, we, too, have to figure out how to ensure they know they are loved unconditionally despite sports. Although this love is never perfect, we will sometimes lose perspective, and our sports wounds will show themselves. That said, there is always a hug to offer after a challenging game or an “I love you” after watching our kids make a mistake on the field.  

Our kids are judged on performance all day long. Isn’t it wonderful that the home can be the one place where performance doesn’t matter and a place where they can be cheered for just being them.