Thinking about the difference between college and pre-college athletics.
Think of an eager kid, completely committed to baseball from an early age. Suppose the kid is not without talent, even if not an all out can't miss superstar.
Think of the parents who support the kid, encourage the kid. They are willing to pay for one-on-one lessons, conditioning coaches, foot the bill for travel ball. Hopefully, some of these people aren't just hired guns, who tell you what you want to hear. Hopefully, some of them actually see what's in the kid, believe in the kid, and are willing to invest in the kid and help the kid get better.
Now think of all the coaches and players on the many rec teams, travel teams, school teams. Some of these experiences are much better than others, of course. Some of them may not work out for the best. But some work out pretty well. The kid learns some skills, develops some confidence, maybe even forms some deep bonds along the way with coaches, instructors, or fellow players.
Not that there aren't some hard times. Not that there aren't injuries. Not that there aren't coaches who turn out to be ass-holes or idiots.
But even when things go wrong, none of it is tragic. The kids gets up, moves on to the next stage, the next challenge, maybe stronger from the setbacks and disappointments, maybe more determined and hopefully ever more mature.
Part of this process depends on what's inside the kid.
But we are talking kids here. And in order for most kids to thrive, they need a support network. They need parents who aren't just big kids themselves. They need wise and caring teachers and coaches. They need honest feedback that is empowering rather than disabling. They need adults who are willing to invest in them if they are willing to invest in themselves -- and sometimes even if they aren't.
Fortunate the kid who has that kind of support network.
At some point, though, the kid has to grow beyond that, especially in the world of college sports. In that hyper-competitive environment, the kid will suddenly be much more of a commodity -- disposable or replaceable, without hesitation or regret.
Suddenly, there will be no more "I'll invest in you, if you just invest in yourself." It's more a matter of "So what can you do for me kid?" and "What have you done for me lately kid?" And "either get the job done, kid, or I'll find somebody else who will."
Not that you don't need to invest in yourself. You still do, even more so. You have to do the work, put in the time. But even if you do, there is no guarantee. And if you don't, well you have no chance.
But now there's nobody but the alarm clock to get you out of bed for the 6am workout. Nobody to urge you on when your desire temporarily lags and you'd rather just sleep in.
If you are not prepared for that kind of thing, it can be psychologically daunting. It can sap your desire, destroy your self-belief -- especially when that affirming support network that stood behind you from your early years all through high school is no longer there on a daily basis.
So here's the question. Sure you want to support your kid, especially when he's still just a kid. You want to do all those things that parents do to build confidence, self-belief, desire, and success.
But how do you prepare a kid to face the challenge of suddenly being a commodity that has to produce right here, right now or be set aside, with no hesitation or regrets.
Most of us try to achieve a balance. Most of us realize that the older and more mature they get, the more we slip into the background, let them fend for themselves, let them pick themselves up when they fall.
But I don't think that's quite enough. As long as they are living at home, surrounded by life long friends, teachers, teammates, instructors and coaches who have known them for a long time, it will never be the same as being completely on their own, alone with the waxing and waning of their desire, drive, and self-belief, having to prove to one man, and one man only, their worth, with that man always being on the look-out for someone better, like a faithless lover who refuses to commit to even the thought of monogamy.