Have you ever quit a team sport and later regretted it? Don’t beat yourself up over it. Sometimes quitting something you love is just as hard as hanging on. Sports moms with battle scars running deep and wide will be able to relate to this true story by Teresa McIntosh-Hall where she talks about her daughter’s mad basketball skills and the heartache of quitting a sport she loved.
Our daughter Haley was barely three years old when she first picked up a basketball. She figured out early that when she dribbled down the hallway on our hardwood floor that her father and I would pause and laugh and clap and make a big fuss about her early “skills.”
We dressed her in blue and red University of Dayton flyer outfits and took her to basketball games as family fun. She knew the rules before she even played in a real game, and at a very young age she was able to rest on the couch with her dad and watch a full game of college basketball without becoming bored or restless. Basketball with her dad was their time to bond. He made her a baller. I give him full credit. I love him for that.
He instilled in Haley a burning passion for the game. Perhaps this is why when our 16-year-old baller came home on January 16, 2013 and said “I quit basketball forever. I can’t take it anymore” her father jumped up from his chair in anger and shouted “I didn’t raise a quitter!” Our not usually defiant daughter fired back in protest and anger; “I am not a quitter! I am just tired of trying and not being good enough. It’s over Dad.”
My tall, manly man of a husband slumped back down into his chair and gave me a look of sadness that I haven’t seen in a long while. It’s a sadness that only he and I could understand because together we raised a “baller” and tonight was the night she decided that this game, he taught her so well, was no longer worth playing. I imagine in his thoughts as a 46-year-old middle aged man he must have paused and thought “what will her and I do together now?”
From a very young age Haley and her dad could be found outside in the drive-way shooting three pointers and reverse lay-ups until the sun went down. During her teen years the small garage light over the basketball hoop was soon replaced with a high beam sports light so they could play under the lights all summer long. It was during her 6th grade year that he called in an asphalt company and paid an embarrassing amount of money for a half court in the backyard.
During her 8th grade year we moved to a new community at the advice of my brother and family. “You will love small town living and small schools” said my brother. My brother moved to a 40 acre nature lovers paradise one town away and we took over his 8 acre estate that consisted of large oak, hickory and walnut trees along with a beautiful white fence lining the drive-way and of course, one very large basketball court.
One of the very first questions my husband asked my brother when negotiating with him about the terms of our agreement was “will the basketball hoop stay?” It was just that important to him that Haley would have a place to shoot and play because basketball was the one thing they bonded over and played together.
Traditional basketball games like “Horse”, “Around the World” and “Three on Three” were weekly events during the summer nights when the children were young. And of course, after the kids turned to teenagers the game names changed to things like “MILF” and “Asshole” just to make things more entertaining. Quite a few holidays we’ve held “Hall vs. McIntosh” half court games at my brother’s house where I feared one of us would surely drop dead from a heart attack.
Nothing is scarier than watching old, fat ballers attempt to box out, baseline dunk and man up. In fact, just this past thanksgiving my husband fractured his finger attempting to block a shot by his 21-year-old nephew. He bragged about that block for a week but he whined about his finger for even longer.
I admit it…we are a sports family. For too long we’ve put sports before everything else and I think the price we now pay for that is emptiness and a longing for “days gone by” when suddenly our kid shouts “It’s over Dad.”
In hindsight, sports should have never come first. It should have been God, family, values, academics and then sports. For too long it has been sports and then everything else. Perhaps this is our punishment as parents for not realizing the “big picture” early enough. There are children tonight who are fighting terminal illness, there are children tonight who will overdose on drugs, there are children tonight who will kiss their parents on the forehead good-bye and never come home due to a car accident and yet we whine because our daughter quits a sport. I am almost certain God looks down on us with disdain when we pout as we do.
In Haley’s scrapbook are pictures of her playing AAU with the Dayton Hoopstars. We traveled to Indiana, Kentucky and all throughout Ohio to cheer her on. My parents would join us on a few trips and they loved it just as much as we did. Yet even on her AAU team she was slow proving herself. She was shy and had to be coaxed to get aggressive on the court. She started the season on the bench but within three games she was the starting point guard and once she relaxed…she dominated.
Haley would outscore, outshoot and outrun most players on the court. During her first year of high school basketball (9th grade) she played point guard on JV and scored more points than any other player on her team and one particular game she had five three pointers and many games she scored over 18 points per game. Coach Gross, who coached basketball his entire life, knew exactly how to get the most out of Haley. Haley did so well on JV during her 9th grade year she was asked to swing to varsity by mid-season. During Haley’s 10th grade year she was starting wing on varsity. She scored 127 points which was impressive enough but more impressive was the fact that being only 5’5 she was the second highest rebounder on her team with 89 rebounds (39 offensive and 50 defensive)! The only person who had more rebounds than her was a 5’9 senior named Traci who just happened to be Haley’s cousin. Traci had a total of 176 rebounds! Neither Traci nor Haley played post but both girls had some serious hops during the 2011-12 season. Haley placed 22nd in the SWBL for scoring and 28th in the SWBL for field goal percentage. While these rankings might not mean much to someone who isn’t basketball savvy…these numbers are impressive for a 5’5 sophomore wing.
Then along came Haley’s junior year. A new coach came to town. He seemed like a nice enough guy who just happens to have a very limp handshake (note to self; teach son to shake hands like a man). The new coach told Haley straight up…”you have the worst defense on the team and your shots are terrible.” (note to self; buy this dipshit some glasses. Are we watching the same girl?)
Never mind the fact that he plays her approximately a minute a quarter no matter how much we are winning or losing. Can any player be properly evaluated within a minute? Never mind the fact that he left his previous coaching position due to; “a surprising and strange set of circumstances ignited by a barrage of letters from complaining parents and players” (as indicated in a newspaper article).
How our daughter went from being a three-year varsity, Dayton Hoopstars trained, high scoring player to a benchwarmer seems impossible to discern but I assure you…when the devil comes to town…anything is possible.
Rage builds up inside you when you encounter a coach like this. It’s the kind of rage that stirs a mother to write into the wee hours of the night and stirs a father to say hostile things like “who the fuck hired this asshole?”
I imagine if you are the parent of one of the “favorite five” then you grin with delight and reply “oh he is just wonderful.” Never mind her skill level (don’t kid yourself parents…connections matter). I hope for your sake that your daughter can hold her spot for the next four years otherwise you too might have a story to tell about the day your daughter comes home and says “I am not a quitter! I am just tired of trying and not being good enough.”
Tonight, we grieve because we raised a baller not a quitter but sometimes you gotta let go to move forward. Haley only had four more weeks to hang on until the end of the season but this evening we realized something about our teenager that we almost overlooked…she IS her mother’s daughter. For the first time in her life…she rebelled. She quit as an act of rebellion against the coach…not us. By laying down her bag and uniform she is saying to him “you don’t own me anymore and I AM good enough.” She is saying “I am bigger than your politics. I am bigger than basketball.” Haley sat quietly on the bench for three months and respectfully smiled when he called her name for her 58 seconds of playing time but today her 16 year old heart protested which is what Abe Lincoln called on all of us to occasionally do at least a few times in our life when he said the following; “to sin by silence, when instead they should protest…makes cowards of grown men.”
Let’s face it…we aren’t raising her to be a basketball player. We are raising her to be a kind, brave, fun, risk taking, life loving kind of woman who just happens to know how to dribble the hell out of a ball.
And while some of you might read this story and say to yourself “step away from the ledge crazy woman”… some of you sports moms with battle scars that run deep and wide will read this story and go “I kind of relate the mother who types what the rest of us are thinking!”
Yep, that’s the beautiful thing about a blog. It’s a public diary. It’s where the world can read and evaluate the inner thoughts of the broken hearted.
@copyright By Teresa McIntosh-Hall
Teresa McIntosh-Hall is a writer, blogger, social worker and political activist who admits she raised one hell of a baller.
Resources to be a better sports parent:
https://appliedsportpsych.org/resources/resources-for-parents/