The Not-So-Gentle Nudge

by Courtney Sage

It was a warm, Tennessee September morning. We loaded our 3 year old son into the car. Smiling ear to ear, he was so proud of his new soccer jersey. In his mind he couldn’t wait for his first soccer game. “I score lots of goals, Daddy!”

We loaded our one year old who wasn’t interested in anything but snacks and her shoes. She preferred the sparkly ones. I loaded my 7 month pregnant self into the car and my husband began driving. We were off to the soccer fields in Franklin, TN.

As fresh parents, we were so excited about having a kid old enough to play sports. Of course, we soon found out they use the word “play” loosely. It’s more like a little herd of sheep that just run in a clump and chase a ball.

As we walked to the fields and spotted our team, Clinton excitedly ran to join all his new friends. The boys ran all over the field doing warm ups, which mostly consisted of playing chase, finding bugs in the grass, and occasionally kicking a ball.

As more and more parents arrived and lined the field, I noticed Clinton’s demeanor changed a bit. He kept stealing glances of the sidelines. His loud laugh started to quiet. Suddenly, a coach blew their whistle and all the kids were called to their huddles. Clinton ran to join his team and listen to his coach.

The coach picked a few players to go out on the field first–Clinton among them. The teams took the field and parents started gently shouting encouragements to their own kids. Clinton’s head stayed down, he started twisting his hands into a knot in his jersey. I knew enough about my son to know he was starting to withdraw. Something was making him nervous.

The starting whistle blew and the parents’ shouts got louder. Everyone yelling at their kid to go get the ball. Clinton froze. The realization he was being watched was overwhelming.

“Clinton! Run, buddy! Go for the ball!”

“Go, Clinton! Go! Run!”

Splat. Clinton dropped himself face first in the grass. And there he stayed until his coached pulled him out. When he returned to the field, he resumed his horizontal position.

This went on for a few weeks. Our only leverage for getting Clinton to the games were the donuts they provided to the kids after their games. As a parent the easiest thing to do would have been to let him quit. His “suffering” would have stopped. My anguish of watching him “suffer” would have stopped. Everything would have been easier, but certainly not better.

My husband finally came up with a plan. He found some dark welding safety glasses. He convinced Clinton that when he wore them he was invisible to everyone else. The first game in his new glasses was like seeing a new kid. He truly thought he was invisible and he was able to go play the way he wanted. He was all over the field with a massive smile smeared across his face. He had found joy in soccer!

To see Clinton play today, you would never believe he started his soccer days face first in the grass. He’s come a long way from his humble beginnings. Now he walks out on the field with eyes of intimidation. He stares down his opponents with no fear. He holds his head high and moves with confidence. He’ll go toe to toe with anyone.

I can’t help but run what ifs through my head: What if we had let him quit at 3? What if we never pushed him to overcome his fears? What if his dad never found a creative way to help him cope on the field?

We would have a very different version of Clinton. His closest circle of friends has come from the soccer field. His confidence has come from pushing himself to succeed on the soccer field. His perseverance has been tested and grown by overcoming the obstacles soccer has thrown at him over the years.

Soccer isn’t every child’s thing. But as an intuitive parent, you know what excites your child. We knew from watching Clinton in the backyard, he really wanted to play soccer. He loved watching the older neighbor boy practice soccer in the yard with his dad. He loved running up and down our yard dribbling a soccer ball with the dog running beside him. We knew he loved soccer. We just needed to not-so-gently nudge him through the things he didn’t like (an audience), so he could find joy in what he did love (soccer).

Nothing great comes easy. Soccer has dished out a lot of challenges for Clinton throughout the years. The first season jitters were just the beginning of things he’s worked through for a sport he loves. We’ve had to not-so-gently nudge him to push through disappointments and challenges to keep him on track to what he loved–soccer.

Today we have a 13 year old who is implementing a lot of self discipline to reach goals he has set for himself in his sport. He practices for hours each week and is very strict with his diet to improve his endurance and speed. I certainly don’t want to take credit for his success, but he wouldn’t be here if my husband and I had ever succumb to the idea that quitting was the best way to cope with the pain and disappointments that have come with the sport.

Clinton’s experience with soccer has taught me a lot as a parent. When my kids start to resist something, my first question is always: Are they resisting the thing itself, or is there something else accompanying it that’s scary? I find it’s important to help my kids focus on the end goal–like becoming a soccer player–and help them find ways to overcome the other byproducts that come with it–like an audience.

The not-so-gentle nudge isn’t easy for the kid, nor is it easy for the parent, but it often comes with rewards that are great for everyone.