When my son tried out for the freshman basketball team and made it, I was thrilled beyond words.
And proud. So very proud.
It’s one of Those Things that I had always wondered about when he was a little guy playing pee wee basketball at the darling age of three years old. Would that adorable boy who didn’t have a clue how to dribble a basketball grow up and play on his high school team?
I had always hoped the answer would be yes, but decided that it would always be his choice. I didn’t want to be one of Those Moms who force their hopes and dreams on their children.
When I first found out that he made the team, I called everyone that I knew to tell them. “The Teenager made the freshman basketball team!”
Dreams of sitting in the stands, cheering on my son danced in my head. I made promises to not embarrass him by talking smack to the refs or fighting with Asshole Parents in the stands.
I had no idea when I gave him permission to be on the team how many hours my son would spend after school for practice. My son became a stranger in this house. I’d drop him off at 7 in the morning and not see him again until 8pm every night.
My son’s dedication and enthusiasm surprised me a great deal. He didn’t miss a single practice nor did he complain. He lost 6 pounds in the first few weeks. He started saying things like “yes, ma’am” the first time that I asked him to do something around the house. He began making healthier food choices.
I was impressed.
Then the games started.
I had no idea how greatly I’d be tested as a mother.
I watched my son, the kid who was working his ass off in practice. The kid who did everything the coach asked of him. The kid who was dedicated 100% to his teammates sit on the bench for all but 1 minute of the entire game.
I could have understood if the players he had used were good, but the team got beat by over 50 points.
The second game it was the same story.
The team got crushed while my son sat on the bench until the last minute of the game.
“That’s it!” I shouted to my husband. “I will not allow this. My son is a good player. He’s been working really hard and he deserves more playing time! If the coach doesn’t start playing him, I’m pulling him off of the team!”
I meant it. It broke my heart to watch my son be treated like that.
I talked to my son after the second game. I told him I was going to talk to his coach.
“You can’t do that, Mom.” He said. “If you bring up play time to Coach, he’ll make us sit out for an entire game.”
“It won’t be much different than what’s happening now.”
“Mom, don’t say anything.”
It was in that moment that I realized I had a choice. I could speak up for my son, I could tell the coach to stop being a jerk to my son and have a little faith in him. OR… I could use this as a lesson to my son.
I had a long talk with my son about “proving himself.” I told him that if he wanted more playing time, he’d have to work really hard during whatever time he got on the court. He’d have to talk to his coach to ask what he could do to improve his game. I told him that if he really wanted more time on the court, he’d have to work for it and earn it.
I kept my mouth shut and watched as game after game my son sat on the bench while the other teammates took a beating on the court game after game.
My son would get no more than 2 minutes playing time each game and sometimes? Not even that. Sometimes, he’d sit the entire game.
And yet, he got up at 6:30 every morning to go to practice without complaining. Even the night that our garage flooded and he wasn’t able to go to sleep until 2 in the morning– he got up and went.
It’s been a huge learning experience for me as a parent of a teen boy. I’ve wanted so bad to go tell that coach to fuck himself. My son is not the best player, but my son is a SOLID player who knows the fundamentals. He has a GREAT shot and will make key defensive plays. His ONLY downfall is that he lacks confidence. If only that coach would show a little faith in my son, he’d be a huge asset to the team.
But I’ve kept my mouth shut thus far because I thought it was the right thing to do. I thought it a golden opportunity for my son to learn that things won’t always come easy to him. That he’ll have to work hard in life and fight for what he wants.
I don’t know if I can keep my mouth shut any longer.
You see, my son missed practice all of last week. First time he’s missed a practice. I called and left 2 messages for his coach.
The first one I told him that my son might have chicken pox and so he may be out all week.
He didn’t call back.
I called again to tell him that he had a staph infection and I had no idea when he’d be back.
That was Monday.
I have yet to hear from the coach.
Not once did he call to check on my son. Not once did he call to see if my son was okay. And as a mom, that pisses me off.
I had learned to accept seeing my son sit on the bench game after game. Even though I wanted to cry most times, I would tell myself “This is a great learning experience! He’ll grow from this and be a stronger person!”
However, now I think it’s been made crystal clear that his coach doesn’t value my son at all. Not one phone call to ask how he’s doing, or when he’ll be back playing with his team.
My son asked if coach had called and when I told him that he hadn’t, he just shrugged his shoulders. “Does it hurt your feelings that he didn’t call?” I asked. “I don’t care.” He mumbled. But here’s the thing, he does care or he wouldn’t have asked. He just doesn’t express his emotions. (He is his father’s son.) I’ll tell you what. I’m hurt for him.
I plan on calling his coach tomorrow morning and leaving the following message.
“I was going to call you to tell you that I don’t know when Andrew will be back, but obviously, you couldn’t care less. It would have been nice if you had called to check on my son, to let him know that all of the time and hard work that he put into your practices meant something to you and to the team. But you didn’t and your silence spoke volumes. You have made it crystal clear with your silence that my son is of no value to your team. You don’t deserve to have my son on your team. I’ll be dropping the uniforms off in the office this afternoon**. GOOD DAY, SIR.”
I keep asking myself… Am I being too emotional about this? Should have called me back to check up on my son, even if it was only to find out when he’d be back at practice?
I mean, if that’s not something they do in high school because, you know, they’re not babies anymore and all that jazz, I’ll leave it alone. But I feel like he was wrong to not call me back. I feel like in not calling me back he was saying “WE DON’T NEED YOUR SON ON OUR TEAM, LADY.”
Everything in my gut is telling me to yank my son off the team and tell this loser to kiss my ass, but I don’t know anymore. I could be confusing my “gut” with my “thyroid” (because my thyroid is A TOTAL INSANE BITCH) and there’s a very good chance I should take a deep breath and let it go. And for the love of Bobs, I really should stop crying every time I think about it.
**updated to add: I really had no intention of pulling my son of the team. I was just being dramatic (shocking! I know!) when I wrote that. I don’t want to teach my son to be a quitter, nor do I want to scar him for life. However, I’m not above talking to his superior about how he’s treated my son. I do think there’s a healthy balance between letting my son learn from this experience without my interference, but also being an advocate on his behalf when I feel its warranted.
Dear God, parenting a teen is complicated as hell.
*UPDATE*
After reading through all of your comments and realizing that, while it would have been nice to have a phone call from the coach to let my son know he’s missed, I WAS being over emotional about it and quite possibly projecting MY issues onto my son and SO… this is what I did.
I called the coach. BUT! Not to bitch him out. I held my tongue and only told him what he absolutely needed to know.
“Hi Coach Farter. Just wanted to let you know Andrew is still not doing well so he won’t be at practice today. I’ll call you after we talk to the doctor today if there’s anything else you need to know. Hope you have a great day and if you have any questions, you can call me on my cell phone.”
And guess what? He called back within 5 minutes to let me know he got my message. He didn’t ask how Andrew was doing, but he did say it wasn’t a problem and he understood he needs to get better.
(Oh noes! Does Coach read my blog? Ha.)
I do want to say that I love that you are honest with me and not afraid to tell me when you think I’m over reacting. Sure, it’s not always pleasant to read, BUT, I am grateful to not be surrounded by a bunch of Yes Men. While we all love the “You Go Girl!” type comments, I think sometimes what we really need is someone to say “YOU’RE OVER REACTING! FOR GODS SAKE! DO NOT CALL THE COACH!”
