Dear Coach ...

Drew played football for the past two years ... this year he decided to stop playing the game ... and the reasons are pretty sad.  I kept my mouth shut for quite some time letting Drew make his own decision on whether not to play.  I participated in Youth Sports, so did my husband.  I thought they existed to promote a healthy lifestyle and teach kids sportsmanship and most of all to have FUN!  It is sad to me that there are coaches in this world who place winning second to teaching a kid the skills to become a better adult.  When I was made aware (painfully, Drew broke down in tears) of the WHOLE situation from last year and why Drew made the decision to stop playing a game he really loved .... I could no longer stand quiet.  I hope people who read this letter I sent to Drew's football coach from last year (who is still coaching, incidentally) will take a minute to step back.  If adults have the opportunity to ever be coaches with their kids or otherwise, I hope they will remember this letter... and what's really important in life.  On a side note, thank you from a mother to the coaches who have touched my children's lives in a positive way. Coach John from New Hampshire, how do you feel about Colorado?  We could use a good coach around here!  miss you.

Mr. Coach (name excluded to protect privacy),


Jon and I are still receiving all of the football e-mails, and Jon is still hoping that Drew will change his mind and want to play. I know you coached with Jon last year, and he loved the opportunity. Jon has coached many, many, kids teams in the time he and I have been married, as well as played semi-professional baseball. He coached a High School champion baseball team when we lived in Japan, he was on the local baseball board in our town in New Hampshire. Jon is a sports lover and player to every extent, and he has a quiet respect for athletes in every facet of any sport. Many years ago a teenager on a team Jon was coaching broke his bat on the fence after striking out. Immediately the umpire told the kid he was suspended from the rest of the season for his behavior. Jon could had chewed the kid, but instead he got the kid into the dugout, put his arm around him, and asked what was going on. In a nutshell, the kids parent’s were in a messy divorce, his mom was admitted to the hospital earlier that morning, and he has smaller brothers and sisters he was in charge of. His “tantrum” had a reason … and Jon knew and loved his kids that much to actually ask why? Jon has a love of kids, their future, sportsmanship, personal integrity, and from my experience and side comments from other parents, is a phenomenal coach.

I tell you all of this because I want you to know the respect I have for my husband as a coach and father. Over the years I have seen Drew play various sports, and I have seen the disappointment in Jon’s eyes when Drew has proven repeatedly to not be the superstar of any of them. Unfortunately, Drew inherited his mother’s ineptitude for sports. Poor Drew.  Despite his disappointments, Jon has continued to teach Drew that playing any game is not about how good you may or may not be, but the heart you are willing to offer the sport and the team. From some of your comments, I believe you have seen that heart in our son, and it is with this in mind that I am writing to you now.

I was very quiet last season. I was busy chasing an 18 month-old around and didn’t have time to get to know any of the other parents. But I came to almost every game … and I was disappointed. Drew started playing football in New Hampshire at the beginning of his 5th grade year. I knew Drew was not a superior athlete, but most importantly, I knew he would be one of the smallest players and the thought of him being pummeled scared me to death. The first practice Drew participated in I sat nervously on the sidelines. New England football is far more physical than Colorado football. I wish your team could play a New England team just once, it would toughen all of them up! = ) The team had been playing together for a couple of years, and Drew was new with a couple of other kids. They had played with the same coach, and it only took a few minutes of practice for me to see why they kept playing. Drew’s coach did not have a son on the team, his two sons were grown and had gone on to play football in college. He had a love of the game, and the kids, and was there because he wanted to be there.

The coach reviewed with the kids exactly “how” to take a hit. I was never an athlete, but I was an aerobics instructor, and I knew the importance of knowing the “how” kept you safe from injury. The coach yelled, he screamed, he cussed, he pulled kids around by the mask of their helmets, he slapped them around when they didn’t listen. I’m not an overprotective parent that couldn’t handle this “football coaching” style. Drew was not the fastest kid, he wasn’t the kid you wanted to throw in the end zone in a tie game with seconds on the clock, and he certainly wasn’t the kid you wanted taking out the quarterback. He was Drew … the 70 lb kid managing the 110 lb kids, the kid who took a hit from the biggest players on the team and opposite sides and never cried, never complained, and always got up. I watched my son literally thrown off the practice field with one good hit from the biggest kid on the team during suicide drills … I was convinced this would be the moment Drew would quit, but he didn’t. He laid there for a minute, the wind knocked out of him, and his coach pulled him up by the mask and told him to shake it off. Drew did, I don’t know how, but he did.

Drew’s coach in New Hampshire was phenomenal in a few ways. I asked him on the first day to be hard on Drew and not let him slide under the radar. Drew is a smart kid, and he would play it safe if he was allowed. As a Mom, Drew knowing how to take a hit was more about his safety than the competition of a game. The coach obliged … but I don’t think it was from what I said, it was from the sheer amount of coaching experience and heart he saw my son was willing to offer the team. In New Hampshire there is a minimum play requirement. Each kid must play 12 plays, and the tally for the plays is kept by a parent from the opposite team. At the end of the game, a team not having played all players at least 12 plays automatically lost with a reason of, “unsportsmanship like behavior on the part of the coach”. Our coach managed to play the kids all 12 plays, every game. Drew and a few other kids were referred to as MPR’s. I knew he wouldn’t play a lot, but he would play. Drew was at every practice and every game. His coach tried him at various positions, and finally settled on putting Drew in as a nose guard. Why? He was tiny compared to the other teams nose guards? But his coach knew one thing, Drew could take a hit and always get up. More importantly, he knew Drew needed to take those hits so that his fear of being the smallest, or the slowest, etc. didn’t matter.

Drew was a bruised mess and I had to tell the school I was NOT beating him at home (lol), but he trudged through. His coach allowed him and every other MPR far more than their 12 plays a game. There were a few phenoms on the team, and they admittedly played a lot, but when one of them decided to do a dance after a touchdown, the next practice the coach yelled at him unlike I have never seen an adult yell and told the whole team that this was a TEAM, he did not make the touchdown alone, his behavior was ridiculous, and the kid ran laps … for 2 hours. He puked a few times, he cried, but in the end the coach ran the final few laps with him and had the kid in a sobbing bawl of tears nestled into the coaches chest. In one swift swoop he taught that team the meaning of team, and that young man the meaning of sportsmanship. By the end of the season the kids were in the final championship game. The MPR’s had become great players with a coach willing to play them in games no matter the score, the phenoms helped the MPR’s along, they were a team. I saw my son turn from a kid terrified of taking a hit, to a football player facing down 110lb players with no fear. Drew couldn’t wait for the next season … then we moved to Colorado.

Drew could not wait to play last year. He was excited, Jon was excited to help coach, and it was all I could do to immediately find him a local team from the second we moved here last Spring. Drew came to practice, Drew paid the sheer physical price like every other kid on that team. He took the hit, he ran the laps, he admittedly dropped the ball, but he played with heart. I watched helplessly every game as Drew was played in few plays. I watched him stand on the sidelines, in full gear, and wait. My mom flew in from Utah to see one of Drew’s games and it finally became painfully clear to me that Drew was not playing. He played 5 plays the whole game. I started watching more to see if maybe that was just an off week. It wasn’t. Every week I watched the same kids playing the whole game, and the same kids standing on the sidelines. The great players got better and more experienced while others (including my son) became complacent, never getting better, never getting a chance to become better.

Jon was an assistant coach, he and I did argue at home after a few games, I wanted him to advocate for those kids on the sidelines and have every kid play more. I recognized the importance of winning, I recognized there were kids on the team who were phenomenal players, but after watching the growth of my son and his team in NH a year earlier I also recognized the importance of being a team and building up the players who were on the sidelines by letting them play. Jon defended your choices on many occasions and tried to explain to me the mechanics of why your coaching decisions were what they were. In many instances I understood. Please don’t misunderstand, I was not a pathetic mother trying to get her kid more playing time. I know/knew Drew’s limitations, I knew he wasn’t the clutch player or secret weapon, but I knew his love for the game and his “heart” were fast leaving.

Drew attended school at Trailridge Middle School last year. He was in the 6th grade and moving from a town with 100 kids in his grade, to a town with 400-500 kids in his grade. It was new, it was scary, and the only kids he knew were on the football team. Drew tried to remain friends with these kids eating lunch with them, hanging out between classes. Jon and I didn’t worry. The kids on his team in New Hampshire were a team, the respected one another no matter if you were the prize quarterback or the MPR kids. It wasn’t until months later that my kid with all the “heart” for the game came to me with tears in his eyes and told me the kids from the football team were “assholes”. It would appear that his “teammates” (a few in particular) were bullying him mercilessly. One day in particular, the day that finally broke him, was the kids having a conversation about the next year’s season. They went around the lunch table asking who would be playing the next season and when Drew said he would be playing one of the kids stated, “Why? Let’s hope not!” Drew was devastated and told me, “Mom, I tried, I practiced, I was at all the games, I took the hits and ran laps and I know I made some mistakes, but I hate football, I hate those kids, and I’m never playing again!”

Drew stuck to his promise when the season registration started. Jon tried for months to change his mind knowing there was a time Drew loved football more than any other sport he had ever tried. Drew was adamant. Not one time did Drew ever mention that he never played in games, not once. It was me that told Jon I didn’t blame Drew. To put in all the work, to try and be his best, only to never play and have the kids who always played become his worst nightmare at school. Drew was offered an opportunity to go to Flagstaff Academy this year, he couldn’t wait. He no longer attends Trailridge and he is relieved to not have to face “the team”. He has a few friends from the team that we see occasionally at the house, but overall, the kids who played, every game, all game, were his biggest bullies.

I am telling you all of this because I know you have coached these boys for years, and I know that in your heart you want the best for all of them. You had in your grasp a young man that loved the game, and in your words, did have more heart than most kids and was willing to give you and the team whatever he had to offer. You had a young man who knew the meaning of team, who knew that being allowed a chance was bigger than being sidelined. You had a young man who may have never been your best player, but had the potential to be a great player. I am not a coach, but I am a mom to three sons. I know the importance of self esteem during these awkward teenage years. I know the damage a few words can inflict on the toughest male skin. I know the rage that can come from that damage. Most importantly, I have learned from my husband that at the end of the day it is the heart and integrity with which you play the game that matters most. Drew is not playing, and I fear that he and others like him will start falling off the team one by one never having their potential tapped into.

As a coach and mentor, I am hoping you will take these mother’s words into consideration. I am hoping you will not allow this “team” to become a small exclusive group of a few star players willing to belittle their teammates in the name of football. I am hoping you will see past the small, slow, inexperienced kids on your team to see that if offered a chance, they too can start to build the heart my son had for the game. Your opportunity with these boys should be taken as a sacred honor. You have the chance to give these boys at the beginning of their most awkward adolescent journey lessons in life. Those kids look up to you as a coach, they will follow your lead and your example. Teach those kids the importance of team, allow the faster, stronger players an opportunity to learn the meaning of team as they buoy up the smaller, slower players. In a nutshell, teach them to be men. Men who don’t bully, men who help others, men who exercise integrity, and men who know winning has its place in this world, but giving all your heart to whatever you do in life is the real test of a man.

Respectfully,

Cortney E. Eldridge