Let Them Play – All Kids Should Be on the Team in Middle School Sports

After watching him hurl a basketball from mid-court toward the hoop to my left, I was certain that Danny had never played basketball before.  It didn’t matter, though, after school at Roosevelt Middle School in 1991, all were welcomed onto the 7th grade boys basketball team of the public school I attended.

No experience was necessary.

No fancy high-tops were needed.

Best of all, no player worried about being cut from the team the following day.

The only pre-requisites, I suppose, were a serviceable pair of sneakers, gym clothes, a completed medical physical and the ability to shut your mouth when our overly-intense, borderline crazy, disciplinarian coach blew the whistle to signal the start of practice.

Yes, all were welcome – and many came.

Our middle school took the court with three teams for 7th and 8th graders.  Roosevelt Middle had an “A” team with about 12 of our best athletes, a “B” team with the next 20 (or so) kids and a “C” team for those players left – kids like Danny.

For two hours each day after school – no matter our skill level, no matter how much any of us had ever played before – we spend time together.  And, truthfully, developing basketball skills often took a backseat to talking about school, girls and how to subtly chew gum during games.  That might be the reason we won only one game that season.

I hadn’t thought of those years in a long, long time.  That is, until last week when my son sent me a text, “Dad, I didn’t make the team.”

The truth was that I was not surprised – my son hadn’t ever played organized basketball.  Without regard for the likelihood of his success, I encouraged him to try, explaining that teams create kinship that classroom simply cannot.

I questioned that advice as I read his message that morning.  I’d walked my son directly into failure.  Even worse, that failure was now made public – the sheet of the kids that were cut was posted on the gym’s front door.

But, the story, for me was never about making the team, it was about having to in the first place.

My stance is simple: In a public school, in any sport, at any level, in every community, everywhere, all kids should be welcome to participate.

Let the air-balls fly, kids like Danny should be allowed to play for their school.

There is no excuse for any other rationale.

Please spare me the idea that the decision to take only the school’s best 15 players is done with the school budget in mind.  The fact is, more kids would add NO additional costs for our school – the coaches are volunteers, parents are responsible for transporting their kids to the games and uniforms are charged directly to the parents of participating athletes.

The filter needs replacement in every 6months. sildenafil generic canada Some of these are given below: Retrograde ejaculation levitra prescription http://amerikabulteni.com/2011/10/02/%E2%80%98wall-street-bahari-eylemi-uzun-new-york-kisina-hazirlaniyor/ – It is identified by damage caused to the nerve system. It is surely buy pill viagra a silent epidemic which needs to be controlled. Diuretic and Anti-inflammatory Pill is created by herbalist Lee Xiaoping who specializes in the field of generic viagra generic male and female vitality. I could even defend an argument that claims that having MORE kids on the team makes economic sense for the school – drawing more spectators to games to buy popcorn, sodas and those nasty, chalky lollipops that kids love.

For my son, though, all isn’t lost – I’ll find somewhere for him to play.  We’ll seek out an organization that will form teams with many of the players cut from other local middle schools.  But, make no mistake, that substitution comes at a cost.

Other families might not foot that additional bill.  I would surmise that many of the “C” team families of my youth couldn’t have.

Once I get through the economics of being cut from the team for my son, my focus turns to the social aspect of such treatment for a 12 year-old.

True, my son will play – but not with kids that he shares a school corridor with.

His team will have jerseys – but my son will not feel the pride I did for donning the school’s colors in a rival gymnasium.

And, while his basketball experience will not be the same as playing for his school in front of the girl from science class he’s trying to impress, my son will, at least, be playing somewhere.

He will be active and, I hope, creating a memory like one that wild-shooting Danny gave to me so long ago.

Now, nearly 30 years later, I can remember only half-watching the Roosevelt “C” team play from the stands alongside my fellow “A” teammates.  There wasn’t much scoring during these games, but there was no shortage of entertaining, circus-shots raining down from all corners of the court.

Danny, the “C” team’s point guard, was never shy to shoot – I mean, he shot A LOT during these short games.  He often didn’t hit the backboard and almost never drew the iron of the rim.  He didn’t care and for many of us watching, the spectacle was quite entertaining.

This particular game, though, was different.

A long rebound ricocheted into his hands and, without hesitation, Danny gave the ball his standard heave toward the hoop.  The shot was hardly textbook and downright ugly, but successful.  The sound of the rattling rim as the ball passed through it was only muted by the cheers of his teammates in stands behind the team’s bench.

Danny smiled broadly as he left the court to multitudes of high-fives from teammates and classmates that might not have otherwise paid any attention.

This memory couldn’t have happen today and, to me, that is sad.

It’s not right.

This needs to change.

All, like Danny, should be welcome again.