Time to write off the pros and concentrate on fun?Editor:It's hard to watch the headlines each day. I check to see who is under suspicion, who tested positive, who was "cleared," if only in the legal sense.
The more I watch and read, the more I tend to give up the idea that things are ever really going to change regarding drugs in sports, as long as sponsors will pay to support the events or the guys wearing their corporate logos on TV. So at times I think we should just forget the records, forget the morals, forget the professional side of sports, and just make sure we teach the kids that riding a bike is a fun, healthy way to get around, spend time with other people, maybe even compete.
But we need to make it clear to them that once they get past a certain competitive point (like moving up from pee-wee football to the high-school game), somebody is going to be cheating. The higher up you go in the sporting ranks, the better the chances that a competitor is doing anything and everything he can to win.
I'm a father to three awesome little boys. Would I want them to strive to be professional athletes? No way. I want them to be happy and healthy. To be able to complete a triathlon, play a game of baseball, shoot some hoops, play some golf. Maybe even get good enough at any one of these things so they can spend their summers teaching other kids how to play. It worked that way for me and my dad, and I thank him all of the time. I thank him for not making me focus on just one sport. For not making me think that the only reason to play was to win. He was never officially my coach at any of the sports I played, competitively or otherwise. But he was always willing to play with me and teach me what he knew. He is certainly my coach in life, and he is the best role model I have for how I want to raise my boys. I want them to be well-rounded athletes and individuals. No college scholarships required; no need to cheat to get an advantage.
Did I know the guys that did all that stuff? Absolutely. Some of them made a decent living playing a few games on Sundays, or swinging a bat. Nothing against them for it, but they need to be able to look at themselves in the mirror each day. Maybe some day they will have to tell their kids what they "had to do" to compete on the field, or in the peloton. As long as everybody knows what the risks and consequences are, maybe we should let them have at it. Let the best prescription win.
But what do I know? I just want to be the second-best dad in the world. Oh, crud, is there something out there that somebody is taking to get one up on me there? What's his doctor's name?
Chuck Matsoff
Published on Velonews.com
Friday, April 4, 2008
Tuesday, April 1, 2008
Waiting for the right time...
Growing up with sports in my life allowed me tremendous opportunities to learn, to succeed, to fail, to stay fit, and even make a few bucks. Having three boys, the question often comes up, “When are you going to start teaching your boys to play tennis?”, or “ What do you mean they aren’t signed up for baseball yet?” Most of the time, I would just kind of laugh it off or just tell them that I didn’t think the time was right yet. So how do you know when the time is right to get your kids started in sports? The easiest answer I can give is when they start to ask for it.
My father was the best coach I ever had. I had the good fortune of some very athletic genes in my family. My grandfather was good enough to be offered professional contracts in both baseball and basketball. As luck would have it though, he decided to marry my 4’10” grandmother, and settle down as a CPA in Wisconsin. I started playing tennis when I was around four years old. I remember going to watch my mom take lessons at the local school, and every time we would go, I wanted to get out there and give it a try. When they finally said it was o.k., they usually had to drag me off the court. It didn’t hurt that my hand-eye coordination was pretty good, and I learned to hit the ball pretty quickly.
The same happened for me when it came to baseball. There were some older kids that lived next door. Whenever they would be out in the yard playing catch, I would watch. These guys were also really nice to the “little kid” so when I would go out there they would let me play with them. As I grew up, my dad was always willing to go over to the school tennis courts, or play some catch with me in the yard… as long as I asked him. It was never forced on me. I had a lot of friends that weren’t so lucky. Their dad’s would push them to play, even if they weren’t very good. These were the dads that usually ended up being the coach of the team. They were basically setting their kids up for failure. Even if the kids were good, if they were getting pushed too hard by their parents, their relationship would be strained. Some were messed up for years and years.
My dad was never actually one of my “official” coaches. He never wanted to be in the position of having anyone say he was favoring his kid. He never wanted our relationship to be the way we had seen so many other fathers and sons turn out. We were friends. We still are friends. I talk with him every day. We go out and play golf once in awhile. Every now and then when we are hanging out, one of my kids has a ball around, and we just can’t stop ourselves from playing a little game of catch. It’s just what happens. I love it.
So now that my kids are getting a little older, I sometimes ask myself if I should be pushing them a little more to get into different sports. Maybe I’m waiting too long, or maybe it is already too late. Nah. When the time is right, I’ll know. They will ask me to show them a few things, and I’ll have a hard time wiping the silly grin off of my face, knowing that another part of our relationship is about to get started.
As it turns out, my middle son, Tinley, just started getting interested in watching tennis on television this past weekend. When he woke up for school yesterday the first thing he did when he came into my bedroom was ask me if I would please take him to play tennis after school. We went out to hit a few balls, and the smile on his face was incredible. He worked up a little sweat, and when he got into the car, he asked if we could come out to play again soon. No problem. As long as we have fun, and he wants to spend time with me, I’m all over it. I guess he is ready.
My father was the best coach I ever had. I had the good fortune of some very athletic genes in my family. My grandfather was good enough to be offered professional contracts in both baseball and basketball. As luck would have it though, he decided to marry my 4’10” grandmother, and settle down as a CPA in Wisconsin. I started playing tennis when I was around four years old. I remember going to watch my mom take lessons at the local school, and every time we would go, I wanted to get out there and give it a try. When they finally said it was o.k., they usually had to drag me off the court. It didn’t hurt that my hand-eye coordination was pretty good, and I learned to hit the ball pretty quickly.
The same happened for me when it came to baseball. There were some older kids that lived next door. Whenever they would be out in the yard playing catch, I would watch. These guys were also really nice to the “little kid” so when I would go out there they would let me play with them. As I grew up, my dad was always willing to go over to the school tennis courts, or play some catch with me in the yard… as long as I asked him. It was never forced on me. I had a lot of friends that weren’t so lucky. Their dad’s would push them to play, even if they weren’t very good. These were the dads that usually ended up being the coach of the team. They were basically setting their kids up for failure. Even if the kids were good, if they were getting pushed too hard by their parents, their relationship would be strained. Some were messed up for years and years.
My dad was never actually one of my “official” coaches. He never wanted to be in the position of having anyone say he was favoring his kid. He never wanted our relationship to be the way we had seen so many other fathers and sons turn out. We were friends. We still are friends. I talk with him every day. We go out and play golf once in awhile. Every now and then when we are hanging out, one of my kids has a ball around, and we just can’t stop ourselves from playing a little game of catch. It’s just what happens. I love it.
So now that my kids are getting a little older, I sometimes ask myself if I should be pushing them a little more to get into different sports. Maybe I’m waiting too long, or maybe it is already too late. Nah. When the time is right, I’ll know. They will ask me to show them a few things, and I’ll have a hard time wiping the silly grin off of my face, knowing that another part of our relationship is about to get started.
As it turns out, my middle son, Tinley, just started getting interested in watching tennis on television this past weekend. When he woke up for school yesterday the first thing he did when he came into my bedroom was ask me if I would please take him to play tennis after school. We went out to hit a few balls, and the smile on his face was incredible. He worked up a little sweat, and when he got into the car, he asked if we could come out to play again soon. No problem. As long as we have fun, and he wants to spend time with me, I’m all over it. I guess he is ready.
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