The Silent Soccer Mom

On a recent fall Sunday in our town park, my son's travel soccer team had a home game.  This particular Sunday was a little different because it was deemed "Silent Sunday" by the county’s Youth Soccer League.  That meant that the sidelines were to be quiet, with no cheering from the parents and minimal directives from the coaches.  Sounds easy enough, right?  Well, for some parents, it is nearly impossible. 

I am not being judgmental about whether a parent is a screamer for their kid or not. I happen to fall into the "or not" category.  For me, Silent Sunday is a piece of cake because I almost never scream, yell, or cheer for any of my children who compete on the soccer field, basketball court, or baseball diamond.  Don't misread me:  I love watching my kids play sports.  But, I just feel awkward cheering out loud for them, or for any of the other kids on the team for that matter.  Perhaps I fear that I might distract them.

I know my restraint cannot be explained by my own childhood, having never played a competitive team sport.  The only time I ever recall having a spectator cheer for me from the stands was when I was a Kiltie in 9^th grade.  A Kiltie was a high-school Rockette, who performed choreographed formations of kicks and splits at half-time of football and basketball games.  There I was, halfway through the routine, arms interlocked with Toni, my best friend on the squad.  It was a rare opportunity for us to be next to each other, since I was usually with the taller, longer-legged girls, and she was somewhere further down the line with the shorter girls.  We were at mid-kick, and both heard, "Flip!" "Flip!" Flip is the name of my parakeet who happened to be six feet under at the time.  My brother and his friend yelled the bird's name, clearly trying to make us laugh.  Their version of cheering us on worked a little too well.  We cackled so hard that we stopped kicking.  My brother's stunt was, without a doubt, a distraction, but I can't say it was the reason for turning me into a quiet spectator.

During a recent soccer game, after my son kicked the ball with a good defensive move, a fellow Mom turned to me, thinking I hadn't seen it, and said, "He made a good play…"

"I know," I answered.  "But, I don't usually cheer out loud for him."

"Why not?" she asked, sincerely puzzled by my response.

"I don't know.  I'm not sure he likes it."

"Well, maybe you should ask him if he wants you to cheer for him."

She was absolutely right.  I had never actually asked my son what he preferred.  I will admit I was somewhat relieved when he said he did not want to hear me yelling his name during games.  Phew, at least my instincts were right about my own kid.  But, what if he had said he wanted me to bellow for him as loud as I could?  Well, then I'd have to overcome my own insecurities about being a cheerleader for my child.  Maybe my brother had the right idea with his silly shout-out after all.

"Go, Flip, Go!" – kind of has a nice ring to it…

Written by Emily Cappo

Please take the time to like the site's fan page on Facebook.

Follow the site on Twitter @OPosts