A youth athlete’s hour glass life

“Even children get older and I’m getting older too.” – Stevie Nicks, Landslide

People, we are ALL getting older. No matter where you’re currently at in your life – in your prime, or struggling to find purpose, or on a journey of self-discovery, or feeling overwhelmed, or daydreaming, or suffering, or goal setting, or swimming in circles, or soaking in the sunrise and sunset – I think it’s critical to remember that this time too shall pass.

None of us can escape the realization that this life too shall pass.

The years between when a child first picks up a ball out of curiosity to the time when he makes his last play in competition, that moment too shall pass.

So why do we, as adults, overly complicate the experience?

I believe that a youth athlete’s hour glass life should look something like this. For the record, I’m defining “youth” as anywhere between 4-12 years old.

I realize many of you are in awe right now at my mad graphic design skills. Hopefully the point still comes across.

There should definitely be a cross (or some representation of a belief bigger than them), a lot of books, some play things, several musical instruments, drawing or writing utensils, and other forms of self-expression in there too.

I suppose there would also be more technological gadgets and gaming devices than I can even name…half of which will be considered new-to-market before I even finish this post.

What shouldn’t be included in a youth athlete’s hour glass life are crazy adults, unrealistic expectations, feelings of inadequacy, screaming parents, overwhelming pressure, or recruiters.

Leave that for high school.

I only half kid about that last statement based on what I’ve witnessed from the stands.

Parents, I implore you. This time too shall pass. How do you want them to remember it?

As I state on GiveTheGameBack.com, kids must learn how to win graciously and lose humbly. Adults must learn how to level set expectations. Because, at the end of their playing days, every athlete should feel pride in what they’ve accomplished, not shame for what never was.

Written by Heidi Woodard