I Do NOT Want My Son To Play Football

At the risk of being kicked out of Texas, I will admit that I do NOT want my son to grow up playing football. I feel adamant about this opinion for a variety of reasons. Just today I recently saw a tragic story about a 19-year old boy who died after an intense college football practice at the University of Maryland. Stories like this make me sick to my stomach.  None of us want that to be our child. 

I’m sure avid football fans are thinking that any sport comes with risk of injury. Most youth-sports related concussions ARE from football. Followed by hockey and soccer. Even kids in gymnastics are at risk! 

Hopefully my son will want to join band or the debate team.

Despite the risks of injury, I can’t stand how much pressure parents put on their children to perform when it comes to athletics. I’ve heard stories about parents screaming, getting in fights and praying in the stands during a game. It’s just a game people!  And the poor kids, we strip the fun out of it for them.  A former colleague of mine told me that her teenage son had to go see a sports-psychologist because the pressure he felt about playing pro-baseball was giving him so much anxiety and ultimately making him hate the sport.

I get it. As parents, we invest so much in our kids. I can only imagine all the time, money and effort that is put into youth sports. We want our kids to excel, to advance, to be committed to the team.

But at what cost to their physical and mental health?

My son is still very young and, so in my hypothetical future, I see myself putting my foot down and exclaiming: “NO FOOSBALL!” like Bobby Boucher’s mom in The Water Boy.  In reality, I may end up eating my words. I have no idea what sports or activities he will want to pursue, and I do see the positives of group sports. I like the idea of being part of a team, practicing something and getting better at it, and not quitting when something gets hard. Perhaps if my mother hadn’t let me quit after my first dance recital, I would be a professional ballerina by now (this is complete sarcasm).

For now, I’m holding steadfast in my decision.

AND if the day ever comes when my son asks to play football, you better believe I’m sending him to practice covered in bubble wrap!

LEAVE A REPLY

Please enter your comment!
Please enter your name here