My football career ended one afternoon when I was in the sixth grade. I played defensive back. The opposing quarterback ran for a few yards before his forward momentum was stopped by a pileup of players. I stood by and watched from a safe distance. My coach screamed at me to throw my body in there!
And that’s when I knew this was not the sport for me. I kept playing the rest of that game and finished out the season. But my heart was not in it.
Other WRAL Top Stories
The vast majority of young athletes will eventually move on to other things and careers, so the life lessons we learn from sports are crucial. If a child figures out that football or soccer is not for them, they should not automatically be branded as a “quitter.” Maybe that young sage is living into the ancient dictum — know thyself. There is integrity in knowing when to walk away.
We tend to think of the word “integrity” in reference to moral character, but the term took this connotation in the sixteenth century. Originally, the meaning was more expansive, referring to wholeness and completeness. Integrity was thought to be a matter of the heart — not only emotions, but a deep knowing of one’s self. This understanding of integrity means recognizing one’s own limitations as well as strengths and — here’s the key — not having shame around them.
Many adults do not trust ourselves to know what’s best for us. We still have not learned that “No” is a complete sentence. We say “Yes” to responsibilities we can’t handle, much less enjoy! Are some of us still trying to please that coach or authority figure? Have we internalized messages that we are somehow “losers” if we don’t meet expectations?
Instead, we could have the integrity to walk away.
I anticipate the pushback. Resiliency is important. I understand that coaches and caregivers don’t want kids to quit. There is something to be said for sticking it out, especially in tough circumstances. Give it your best shot! If you get knocked down, get back up. Go get ’em next time!
But integrity involves a more complete and wholistic understanding of what’s important than what takes place on a playing field or recorded on a scoreboard. We adults can actually learn this from children.
A friend of mine has a child on a soccer team that has not won a single match. Her kid was downhearted after a particularly difficult loss. The younger sibling of an opponent came over after the game bearing the gift of snacks. Soon everyone’s fingers were neon orange from the Cheetos and they began to chase each other across the green grass. The loss was forgotten. Laughter was the only score that counted. Their hearts were in it.
Perhaps this child will play soccer beyond this season. As a parent, you hope the lessons in integrity remain long after the sweat and snacks have been washed off their uniforms.
Andrew Taylor-Troutman is the author of Gently Between the Words: Essays and Poems. He is the pastor of Chapel in the Pines Presbyterian Church. He and his wife, also an ordained minister, parent three children and a dog named Ramona.