Should My Child Play: Part II

Let's continue down the path that I started on last week. 

If you will recall, I was writing about sports participation and the personal/family decision of whether it was worth it or not, considering all the negative things coming out about sports recently.

As I still another young athlete's season end with an injury, it seems clear that this is an important decision...maybe one of the more important decisions that your family might make.

But let me start with a confession.  I'm an only child.  Yep.  Always have been.

Bet you couldn't have guessed it.  I'd like to think that maybe my parents found perfection in their fist born and decided that they couldn't do any better.  The truth is that my mom tried to have children after me but wasn't able to. 

You've probably heard all the stereotypes about The Only Child.  Selfish.  Self-centered.  Bossy.  Doesn't play well with others.  Spoiled. 

My parents knew the burdens of growing up without siblings so they made sure that I had lots of opportunities to interact with others my age. 

Boys Scouts.  Church activities.  Camps.  Summer recreation.  Art lessons.  Played in the band.  And (you guessed it) sports.

I regularly had what today are called Play Dates.  My parents made sure I had lots of friends and plenty of opportunities to spend time with them.

You probably know that I ride a bicycle.  A lot.  Probably too much.  But you didn't know that on my very first bike ride, on my brand new bike, I wrecked rather spectacularly, leaving much of the skin from my face on the pavement of Robinson Road. 

And you probably know that my friend Bill Crisp died recently of complications from a bicycle wreck.

But still I ride.  With no plans of stopping.

We can't live our lives in fear of what MIGHT happen.  If we let fear drive our very existence, we might never leave the house.  We would certainly never ride a bike or even drive a car and forget those things called motorcycles.

We would take no chances and only do the safe thing.  I suppose my parents at times would have liked to keep their only child in a protective bubble, keep him safe from harm.

But that is not living.

Living is doing what we love.  Living is not letting fear keep us from pursuing happiness... From chasing our dreams.  And that most surely requires taking risks, of stepping outside our safe zone. 

Maybe for you that's running for a touchdown or stealing second.  Maybe it's putting all you have into a cross-country course or getting up every morning at 4 to go to swim practice.  It certainly might involve taking some risks.

In sports, you will find beauty and grace and music in among the blood, sweat, and tears. 

Do I want a grandchild of mine to play a sport that much of the world might find dangerous?   If that is where their heart is, if that is what makes them alive, then so be it.  I'll sit in the stands and cheer them on and hug their grandmother when she cringes when something, anything happens.  And pray mightily that it doesn't.