In case you started reading this article hoping to hear otherwise, let me disabuse you of any such notions right now. Sports in America are a democratic phenomenon. We are a nation of public parks, of high-school coaching, of after-school programs staffed by volunteers. But at the so-called elite level, the level of national and international competition, the level where it becomes understandable that a young athlete would concentrate on one sport, we are a nation of elites, and the phenomenon is fueled by private coaches, private clubs, corporate sponsorship, and parental sacrifice.
Such is not the case elsewhere. Most countries in Europe have state-sponsored programs, even schools, for top-level athletes. Centralized governments like Russia’s and China’s, yearning for Olympic gold, aggressively seek out and train athletes beginning at a very young age.
There are obvious downsides to such systems, especially for the athletes who don’t excel internationally and are treated as shameful failures. At the same time, for the middle-class American parent with a wildly ambitious and reasonably talented child, the competition is daunting. At the age of nine or ten, a golfer or swimmer may pull away from the pack because of talent and focus. By the age of twelve or thirteen, all the golfers or swimmers at his or her level will be talented and focused, and it will be the ones with superior training and resources—including hefty financial resources—who pull away from that pack.
When my son Dan was playing his first national qualifying tennis tournament, in Albany, NY, a parent came up to where I sat on the sidelines. “What are you doing about him?” she asked.
“What do you mean?” I said. “I’m watching him. I’m encouraging him to play.”
“Are you moving to Florida?”
I stared at this woman, whose son, I think, had lost in the previous round. “Dan’s only nine,” I said.
“That’s when you start,” she said.
Finding out how much it will cost to support an elite young athlete isn't easy. For instance, no one at the USTA could tell me the average family income for a nationally ranked player, nor the average family expenditure. Its literature, however, stresses that “supporting a junior player” (including, specifically, “logistical support” and “financial assistance”) is considered a “positive behavior,” whereas “being concerned with money," it warns, is a behavior "negatively influencing your child’s tennis experience.” Writes the USTA, “It is important that you think about your child’s goals and why he or she plays tennis. Reflect on your perspective of junior tennis and how it differs from a healthy perspective of developing the child.” Such guilt-provoking implications are hard for middle-class parents to bear. No wonder we all hear tales of parents taking out second mortgages or moving to France.
Cost estimates, moreover, rarely include time lost from work for the parent who accompanies the athlete to tournaments or matches; in fact, much parent-centered sports literature seems to assume one nonworking parent. Indeed, Richard Williams made the support of his daughters Venus and Serena his full-time job. For most of us, however, reducing or giving up full-time income increases the gap between what we can afford and what the sport seems to cost. Hiring a coach to travel with your child while you are working has the same effect and also takes you away from the sidelines.
Not all sports carry the same price tag. Skiers can easily spend more than $40,000 per year, whereas nationally competitive soccer players may spend only $5,000 per year. The so-called class differences among sports are not accidental; in a society where families are expected to shoulder the costs of their children’s sports involvement, prestige attaches to those sports that carry the higher price tag. But children are unaware of such subtleties, and you cannot always steer a fanatical figure skater toward field hockey.
Moreover, elite sports quickly attain the status of a “calling,” akin to a talent in the arts. A friend whose son is a cello prodigy writes:
The problem for me as a professor, which is to say, a person with a relatively modest income, is to support his prodiginess or should I say prodigality? Maybe prodigy and prodigality are related, and anyhow, they have the same effect: they cost a lot of money. I have been spending about $25,000 a year on the kid. It would be worse if I had to buy him a cello, which eventually I'll have to do; he has won a cello as a free loan for 3-4 years from the Carlson Foundation in Seattle. However, his bow, now for example, is of inferior quality, worth only $800. An excellent bow would be 10,000, and naturally, I am not going to buy it, unless I win some major book contract or a movie deal, which is not likely. . . . Maybe this enterprise, which has cost me let's say an apartment on the Adriatic, will eventually pay; maybe he will make a living as a cellist and play in a good symphony and a quartet. He is hitting adolescence, so who knows. Last month he fell and broke his arm.
If you make more than a million dollars a year or are willing to sacrifice everything for your child’s sport, then you have already found your solution and need not read on. (Though for those who would sacrifice everything, experience offers strong words of caution: let this sacrifice not be your child’s responsibility to carry!)
For those who want to preserve some sort of family nest egg and do not have unlimited amounts of disposable income, here are some partial solutions:
Go after the grants. Virtually every national youth sports organization has need-based awards available for summer training programs, travel, housing, etc. Some of these grants, like the USTA’s High Performance Program, are available only to athletes who have already attained a national ranking, so some early sacrifice might be required to bring your child to the level at which she can reasonably hope for grant support. But ask and ask again, and you may find funding for as much as 1/3 of your annual costs.
It takes a village. Encourage your young athlete to put up posters, go door-to-door in your neighborhood, or place an article in the local paper listing his accomplishments thus far and his dream to go to XYZ national competition. Be sure he understands his obligation to report back to those who want to share in his accomplishment via their donations—they should get a picture of him on the playing field, or (if he’s lucky!) holding the trophy.
Make friends everywhere. If you attend all the local events, your young athlete will understand that you can’t make it to the events far from home. Contact that old college buddy who lives in Florida and ask if he could host your daughter at the national meet. Generally you’ll find a welcome mat. You’ll save money from your own transportation, accommodation, and time lost from work; your daughter will discover other adults who think she’s terrific; and she will learn new skills in negotiating travel and being a guest.
Attend the one-room schoolhouse. Not only is professional coaching very expensive, but too much of it can result in burnout. Help your athlete connect with older athletes in your area who will play or exercise with him and share tips for a much reduced fee or a home-cooked meal. There are NCAA rules against coaching in-season, but no rules against play dates and gifts.
Above all, do not count on future rewards to recompense your family for present expenses. For the low-down on college scholarships, see my article on college recruiting [2]. As far as dreams of going professional, consider not just the odds of success (very low), but also the odds of your child’s happiness in that environment. The brother of a good friend is, at age fifty, a professional golfer. In a good year, he makes a middle-class income. He often travels to tournaments by bus. My friend watches for him on televised tournaments, and sometimes catches a glimpse before an international superstar knocks him out of the draw. The life suits him, but if his parents had hopes that it would repay their debts, they have been sadly mistaken.
Should you, then, sit your child down and tell her that elite sports are simply something you cannot afford and that she should be content on the town fields or in the town swimming pool? That depends, in the end, on your and your child’s priorities. If you can manage the “hat trick” of supporting your child’s enthusiasm, keeping family finances in order, and keeping a healthy perspective on the sport, you’ll find rewards that have nothing to do with college or career. Your young athlete will have gained confidence; found new friends from all over the country or the world; learned to handle himself in unexpected situations; come to understand that he, too, must make an investment in his own dreams; and perhaps formed a unique bond with you, his parent, through these intense years. Good luck!
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Links:
[1] https://momsteam.com/node/1245
[2] https://momsteam.com/node/984
[3] https://momsteam.com/forums
[4] https://momsteam.com/successful-parenting/parenting-elite-athletes/college-recruiting-for-the-elite-athlete
[5] https://momsteam.com/team-of-experts/lucy-ferriss/specialization/parenting-elite-athletes-is-a-special-challenge
[6] https://momsteam.com/successful-parenting/balancing-sports-and-family-learning-to-say-no
[7] https://momsteam.com/successful-parenting/survival-skills/money-matters/sports-strain-family-budget
[8] https://momsteam.com/sports/five-common-college-recruiting-mistakes