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Parents Blog

Susan Boyd blogs on USYouthSoccer.org every Monday.  A dedicated mother and wife, Susan offers a truly unique perspective into the world of a "Soccer Mom". 

 

Surviving Indoor Soccer or: How I Learned to Stop Worrying and Love the Smell of Stale Sweat

Susan Boyd

Indoor soccer has become a necessary evil especially for those of us in hostile winter climates. Too rainy, too cold, too windy, and/or too snowy, we can’t continue to play outdoors for at least one third of the year yet we need to keep training in order to keep up with teams from more welcoming weather areas. We try to stay outdoors for as long as possible. I’m going to a game tonight where the temperature will be below freezing, it will be sleeting, and the winds will be around 25 m.p.h. We are hardy folk in Wisconsin. After all we think ice fishing is fun. But those conditions are more in line with ice fishers than soccer players. So reluctantly youth soccer understands that eventually we need to move the game indoors where the fields are smaller and where the game uses walls to make plays. Moving indoors means confined and windowless spaces where noise, odors, and tempers get magnified. It’s not ideal and it’s not pleasant.
 
In our hubris we think we can play outdoors a lot longer and a lot sooner than the weather permits. We watch the English Premier League play all winter long, but England enjoys the warming influences of the Atlantic and the North Sea (yes even the North Sea brings some warmth), so frigid temperatures and snow are infrequent. Rain is not, but that comes no matter what the season.   In the Plains states, the Midwest, and the Northeast, we face that ugly phenomenon called "The Canadian Clipper" roaring down from the Arctic Circle to bring sub-freezing temperatures, high winds, and blizzards. Weather reporters say the same thing, "We will experience colder than usual temperatures." My question is "what is usual?" Last year this week the temperature averaged 45° and this year it will average 30°. Next week we’ll average 40° and last year this time we averaged 25°. I can’t figure it out, but the reporters seem to know "normal." When we try to extend our outdoor season we usually end up sorry. In 2006, the NCAA College Cup was in St. Louis during the first weekend in December. Shockingly there was a huge blizzard closing the airport, most freeways, and the outdoor fields where the games were to be played. Ironically the two teams in the finals were UCLA and UC Santa Barbara whose players rarely saw snow, much less played in it. After plowing off the fields, sight-lines from the seats were obstructed by the huge piles, and players had to run up and then down snow piles to execute corner kicks. This year the College Cup will be held in Philadelphia in an outdoor facility during the second weekend in December. Good luck with that! One year the Wisconsin State Soccer Association rented the Marquette University turf practice field in mid-February to hold Olympic Development try-outs. There was a huge snow storm two days before we used the field, so it was covered in about four inches of snow, which we promptly trampled into a skating rink leaving players skittering across its surface unable to showcase any talent other than figure eights. Therefore, indoor becomes our best option from November through March.
 
The first problem with indoor is the limited number of fields available. In my sons’ club we negotiated with the city school district to rent as many of the local school gyms as possible. It meant we were competing with band concerts, polling locations, basketball leagues, and the other soccer club in town. My job was to schmooze the director of recreation and apply for space the second we were allowed to do so. I filled out applications in July for space in November and stood outside the recreation office at 6 a.m. in order to be first in line to procure the necessary space. This scenario plays out across the country as clubs vie for limited and inexpensive indoor practice locations. For the US Youth Soccer Olympic Development Program, I called indoor golf shooting ranges, soccer and lacrosse indoor facilities as far as 100 miles away, and colleges and universities for their gym space. The process is cut-throat and necessary. The number of indoor spots is only a fraction of what’s available outdoors, so to accommodate all the soccer players becomes an impossible task. Clubs search for any area that is covered, flat, and as inexpensive as possible. We even accepted covered picnic areas in city parks with tables stacked up at one end and open to the elements except for the roof. Clubs accept any port in the storm.
 
The second problem involves the scheduling of games. The older the player, the later the games. In order to maximize the use of the space, indoor leagues run games non-stop from 6 p.m. to midnight or even 1 a.m.   For those of us who think 10 p.m. is late, driving 30 minutes to a facility to watch our child play a midnight game and then getting up at 5 a.m. takes a toll. Luckily most kids only play in one league, so this becomes a concern just one night a week. But as kids get older and focus more intently on soccer, they can be entered in multiple leagues. This also begs the question of all the ancillary personnel such as referees, concession stand workers, facility administrators, and coaches, all of whom have the same impossible schedule and other jobs or school classes with normal hours to get to every day. It’s a tough employment choice. Adult leagues and older student leagues are often played after 10 p.m.   Older players can drive themselves, but that’s little help when you want to be supportive and cheer on your 10th grader’s team. And don’t get me started on homework issues. Playing so late means less sleep before big tests, and less focus to devote to papers and assignments. At least with outdoor soccer daylight brings natural restrictions to how late players have to commit to training or games. Eventually more and more fields will have artificial lights, but for now the sun suffices to create training parameters.
 
Given the season for indoor soccer the third problem is actually getting to the facilities. All too often games and training are paradoxically interrupted by the weather. We can play indoors, but we can’t drive through snowstorms safely to get to our indoor havens. We find ourselves nearly as limited by the weather with indoor as we would be with outdoor. When we can get to our destinations we might find limited parking because the lots, while plowed, have dozens of spots occupied with the plowed snow mounds. Time to get to and from facilities can get extended as much as double when the weather is bad, worsening the already late hours. Often you can go to a game without problem and exit from the facility into a raging snow storm. I also know of a few soccer players who suffered season disrupting injuries walking to or from the indoor facility by slipping on the ice. There’s no "injury pride" when your torn ACL happens in the parking lot instead of on the pitch rushing to defend against a counter-attack. 
 
My personal problem with indoor has always been the sounds, sights, and smells of the experience for the fans.   Indoor can be problematic for young players whose teams are competing on the pitch next to an adult team. Every sound is magnified both by the acoustics of roof and walls and by the proximity of teams to one another. Any child you have been protecting from PG language is suddenly thrust into a world of R-rated words. I remember cringing as the four letter and longer words flew back and forth invading the playing space of my pre-teen sons. Every bit of language crystalized clearly without any filter. My only bit of consolation was that my kids were busy playing their game, so many of these outbursts were white noise to them. But that wasn’t the case before and after the game as they sat on the ground between fields putting on their gear. They were also witnesses to some pretty intense physical conflicts between older players. There’s something about being in what is essentially a cage to bring out the animal in even the most docile of players. It wasn’t unusual for three or four physical conflicts to break out during any hour game complete with punching, hair pulling, slapping, and kicking. The only thing missing to equate it to hockey was the use of sticks and I’m sure a few battles had those at the ready in the player box. I think there’s a concentration of ill will trapped in the pressure cooker of indoor which can’t be released by the wide open spaces of outdoor soccer.   Finally, most offensive to me, are the smells of hundreds of sweaty soccer socks, shorts, shirts, shoes, and bodies. You enter the moist warm air of any indoor park and you’re blasted by the fetid scent of all those body odors. There is not enough ventilation in the world to waft that odor up and out of the building. It just regenerates without regard to anyone’s olfactory sensibilities. When I speak of the sounds, sights, and smells, I’m not just talking about the males. These problems cross gender boundaries. The women have some pretty unpleasant language, fights, and scents too. Plus young girls face the same problems of overhearing language even as we all wish we could maintain their "innocence" for just another year or two.
 
So I had to make my peace with the indoor season. It’s as inevitable as death and taxes. Somehow we have to find a way to navigate through the indoor sessions by begrudgingly accepting that there is a lot to despise about the experience. Nevertheless, in the end our kids love the speed of indoor, the opportunity to play during what would have to be a dormant season, and the increase in playing time for even the weakest players since no one can last on the field longer than a few minutes. I learned to deal with what I hate about indoor by focusing on the few tidbits I love: speed, skill development, and the joy of my kids when they play. In the end, all the distastefulness and hardship fade away, and the game emerges as the primary emphasis. Despite this blog’s title, maybe I don’t really love the smell of sweat, but I do love that I have the opportunity to smell it.

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Walks of Life

Susan Boyd

In high school, groups were differentiated by specific characteristics. The group you were in often dictated your level of popularity, even acceptance during those formative years. There were the "jocks," the "nerds," the "brainiacs," the "beauty queens," "teacher’s pets," "theater geeks," and so forth. Students might move among groups, but there was usually one defining group for every kid. When we move on to college and/or family life, we assume these stereotypes are left behind, but we discover that based on location, economic level and education, adults tend to "herd" into fairly similar groupings. So when our children join a youth sports organization in our communities, we find ourselves on the sidelines with other parents in the same social and professional set limiting our exposure to a wider world view. However, youth sports can also be the medium for moving beyond our boundaries and finding friends and experiences that aren’t part of our usual routine.
               
As kids narrow down to the sport that is their passion, the clubs that cater to those talents and interests are often found far from our usual base of operation. These clubs attract the best players without regard to race, religion, economics or education. Instead of playing with the neighborhood carpool crowd, our children are now becoming teammates with kids from all walks of life. The defining characteristic of these groups is "the team." We parents have an instant connection to the other parents because we share the desire to see the squad succeed, we all have to get our kids to practices, games and tournaments, and we occupy the same sidelines as we cheer them on. No matter where we came from, for those hours every week that we participate in the team events we all share common goals.
               
Youth soccer has afforded our family the opportunity to learn about cultures, religions and traditions that we would probably have never come across or sought out. When Bryce was U-15, our community’s team dissolved and we had to scramble to find him a spot. As a goalkeeper, his options were limited. At his high school, a Jesuit all-boys school in Milwaukee, he played on the soccer team and through that connection had a teammate invite him to join his team, which was one of the many ethnic clubs found in the city: The United Serbians. I barely knew where Serbia was, much less its history and social structures. The soccer field was on the grounds of the local Serbian Orthodox church that also held a social club. Dozens of weathered enthusiastic old-time players came to every practice and game, speaking in their native tongue. They urged the team on and took every loss very personally. On significant religious holidays, we were invited to share in the celebration in the church including all the wonderful, new, dare I say exotic, foods. Many of the players’ parents were immigrants who came to the U.S. prior to or during the Yugoslavian wars in the 1990s. While I knew about these conflicts involving Bosnia, Croatia, Albania and Serbia and the charges of genocide, to hear the stories first-hand and learn of the horrors these families experienced gave me a significant window into history. Many of Bryce’s Serbian teammates had come to this country before they entered kindergarten, and they lived with limited financial means, yet their generosity both of material goods and spirit was amazing.
               
Robbie guest-played for the Croatian team, sworn homeland enemies of the Serbians. We got to hear the other side of the story concerning the conflicts. We also got to share in the culinary specialties of Croatia both in Milwaukee and at an international Croatian tournament in Hamilton, Ontario, Canada. At the tournament there were stands selling Croatian crafts, music, clothing and national political items, such as flags and bumper stickers. The rivalries among the various Croatian teams from around the world were as intense as the rivalries between Croatia and Serbia in Milwaukee. I really enjoyed walking around the grounds, speaking to the vendors, admiring the handicrafts (particularly the lace), and learning more about this nation that again I knew existed but beyond that was ignorant of the daily lives, history and politics of the country.
               
Bryce had a coach from Argentina and Robbie had a coach from Puerto Rico who both had close connections to the Hispanic communities in Milwaukee. They actively recruited players to the club giving our suburban-based group a shake-up in talent and exposure. Parents of the Hispanic players would bring pots of warm food on those cold November days as the season waned. We feasted on tamales, skirt steak and burritos. Robbie’s team actually joined a Milwaukee Hispanic summer league so that we attended dozens of games in the city on fields that lacked in grooming what they gained in celebration. Food trucks, vendors selling national uniforms, family picnics during the games, and a hodge-podge of cultural experiences from Mexico, Honduras, Guatemala, Ecuador, Nicaragua, Puerto Rico and El Salvador intertwined to showcase the wide variety of traditions, foods and loyalties. Lumping all these nations under the umbrella of Hispanic removed the wonderful diversity of each country represented on the pitch, just as lumping all European nations as Caucasian would diminish the range of customs found in individual societies. 
               
Beyond the cultural experiences of moving outside of the local soccer club, we came in contact with people in careers as diverse as any working population. Our town is primarily white-collar professionals, so although one father might be a broker and another mother a professor, their overall experiences were similar financially, politically and socially. As our sons became more involved with clubs far outside the boundaries of our community, we came in contact with a wide spectrum of labors: mechanics, utility and factory workers, gardeners, farmers, salvage proprietors, even a rodeo rider. Their discussions about what they encountered during a work day gave a richer perspective to what we do in building our lives, our communities and our nation. Things I had taken for granted I found others had no experience with while on the other hand I had missed out on some really interesting activities in which I now had the chance to participate. Through our contacts with these families we found not only great plumbers, landscapers and mechanics we could trust, but friends we might never have approached. 
               
Finally, youth sports, and youth soccer in particular, take you to places you might never visit otherwise. We’ve played in the middle of Amish country, faced teams made up of American players with significant but rarely experienced cultures such as Sikkh and Hmong, participated in local celebrations involving things like tractor pulls, rodeos and music, took in museums dedicated to community events and history, such as windmills or factory work, and played against national teams from countries as diverse as Trinidad-Tobago and Mexico. Bryce even played against the British Royal Navy team. As we traveled to more than two dozen different states, we learned about our geography and our national cultural fabric. Taking a vacation to a luxury Jamaican resort is a lot different than playing in Jamaica against a Jamaican club. We got to move outside our suburban or urban or rural cocoons to make discoveries about people, their occupations, their lifestyles and their culture just by participating in soccer. We sampled unusual regional cuisine that ranged from alligator fritters to elk steaks to yak milk cheese. And we often shared those meals with teammates that came from diverse backgrounds offering us the opportunity to experience these foods for the first time together and reveal our reactions. We learned local histories and walked through neighborhoods with very different architectures. Moving through varying climate zones, we’ve gotten to discover different flora and fauna and how those affect living decisions for residents. We’ve been invited into the homes of families in far-flung tournament destinations, sharing our love for soccer while learning about the differences which distinguish us.
               
We may not always choose to step outside our comfort zone, but youth soccer can literally "boot" us into new worlds. I consider myself well-educated and well-travelled, yet I am constantly amazed by how little I have actually had the privilege of experiencing. When we pull into a new city, or welcome a new team member, or share a religious or ethnic holiday with teammates, we make the special discoveries that broaden our thinking and introduce us to new adventures. I certainly encourage families to expand their horizons during this short time that your children are participants in a sport with global involvement attracting people from all walks of life.

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Holy Cow & Other Odd Soccer Field Sightings

Susan Boyd

When you travel to a soccer game you expect to see a field with lines and two netted goals. Sometimes you’re greeted with bleachers and/or team benches. On some "elegant" fields you might encounter a clubhouse and a concession stand. City parks may offer a playground. But, for the most, part we’re happy just to see a lined field and goals. However, on occasion, we come across some truly unusual soccer curiosities that crop up now and then over the course of our children’s soccer experiences.
               
The best soccer fields have irrigation systems, which help maintain a smooth, velvet surface. When well-mowed, these verdant living surfaces can be wonderful to play on. That is until the irrigation system decides to kick in unexpectedly. I’ve been to two games where this happened. Without warning, these tiny seemingly benign metal nozzles pop up from the blades of grass and then explode into a harsh mist saturating the entire pitch. Depending on circumstances, this sudden shower can be refreshing, bothersome or frightening. On a hot day, it is probably some welcome relief, but overall it’s merely aggravating. It also can pose a safety hazard. I’ve seen kids suddenly trip over the spigots that appear unannounced and without water to signal their positions. I’ve heard of kids who ended up with serious injury falling on the metal outcroppings. That’s a discovery none of us wants to make.
               
On a particularly stormy day we had an important game southwest of Milwaukee on a field none of us had ever visited. As we watched the increasingly ominous dark clouds filling the sky, we drove to the location wondering if we would play the game at all under heavens that seemed sure to shatter open with lightning. Sure enough, as we rounded the last curve into the park the sky lit up with a sharp blast. Surprisingly, the game before ours was continuing oblivious to the danger of the storm. Again, the air cracked with a brilliant light and piercing pop of thunder. And still the game continued. Naturally we were not only puzzled, but concerned for the young players moving seemingly unaware of the chaos around them. A mother from the opposing team approached us. "Sorry about the conditions." Unless she was Thor’s proxy, I really felt there was little she could do except get those kids under shelter. "The transformer acts up now and then." She pointed to her left just as a brilliant flash escaped the metal box at the corner of the park. "Don’t worry, it’s safe…as long as you don’t get too close. The inspector assures us it’s just an internal arc that doesn’t affect service and doesn’t travel anywhere." I mentally made a measurement of how close this electrical widow-maker sat to the corner flag. How could it be safe? I actually began to pray for lightning, which I felt had to be safer than this belching box of electrons. Nevertheless, we played the game, and the natural storm never interrupted us once. The transformer "spoke" about forty times. I expected a curtain to pull back and reveal the Wizard of Oz.
               
Balls from nearby games often fly onto the field, interrupting the action. Players wait patiently for an appropriate break or an opening on the field before retrieving their ball. Sometimes a player on the field will take pity and kick the ball out to the pacing competitor. But what do you do when the object flying onto the field isn’t a ball but is an umbrella that escaped from the sidelines two fields over on a particularly rainy and windy day? That umbrella took on a life of its own, skittering across the field as the game continued. It seemed to know exactly where it could cause the most trouble, weaving in and out of plays like Wayne Rooney on his way to the goal. No one wanted to stop and chase it because some serious soccer continued despite the obstruction. The referee couldn’t stop the action nor could he pursue the umbrella because he had to position himself properly to oversee the game. So we all watched this ballet helpless to bring the curtain down. The temptation would be to just kick the ball out of bounds to give time to snag the umbrella but this game was closely contested and neither team wanted to give up any advantage. So for five or 10 minutes, the situation continued until just as suddenly, a sharp shift of wind sent the parasol skittering off the field … and onto the next to choreograph another dance of obstruction.
               
Speaking of wind, we arrived at our club fields for the first spring season game only to find that two of the portable outhouses had been upended by a storm the night before. Unfortunately they had landed on the big field. These blue plastic behemoths had to be not only righted, but carefully moved to mitigate leakage. This was no easy task because their "ballast" shifted with every move. Suddenly, everyone became structural, mechanical and hydraulic engineers offering a multitude of solutions. As the clock ticked down to the start of the game, we enlisted the help of the opposing team and parents to carefully haul the structures off the pitch. Every time I see an outhouse, I have nightmares of them toppling over and rolling unfettered onto the grass. Just three months ago, a handicap accessible potty tipped over backward at the edge of a field in Chicago. Luckily no one was "on board" and it fell away from the pitch, but I empathetically didn’t envy the people in charge of righting the building.
               
By its nature, soccer requires wide open stretches of flat grassy territory. With the rapid expansion of youth soccer, more and more acreage is being sought to provide playing surfaces. So it’s not surprising that fields are often far outside city limits, where cost per acre and taxes are usually lower. Pushing the boundaries further into the wilderness, soccer pioneers in Toyota Sienna wagons roll into unchartered, untamed territory in pursuit of wide-open spaces. We encroach on the wildlife that often used the fields to feed and roam. I’ve been at games invaded by turkeys, deer, geese, even a lone coyote that behaved in the superior, entitled manner of an animal in his habitat trotting onto the field, then refusing to leave. We arrived at fields so filled with goose poop that the players struggled to retain their footing. I’m sure the kids would rather have played on frigid slippery ice than gross, sloppy excrement. 
               
On a field out in the country and bordering a cemetery, we were contentedly in the middle of a great game, when out of the tombstones wandered a cow – a holy cow. Anyone in Wisconsin knows that cows are not the brightest animals on earth. They may live in herds, but they resist being herded. In the middle of an electrical storm they head to the biggest tree in the otherwise empty field tempting Vulcan’s arrows. They are docile, stubborn and deliberate in their movement. So getting a cow off the soccer field requires more than a red cape or yelling "Yee Hah." Soccer fields are wonderful for grazing, so no hungry cow relinquishes that moveable feast quickly or easily. At least that’s what we discovered. Here’s what we tried: "Yee Hah" – okay you knew we had to try it, placing a rope (actually a series of bungee cords) around its neck and tugging, a few brave (a farmer would say stupid) souls tried to push from behind, someone even had the brilliant idea to turn on the irrigation system, and, of course, the proverbial carrot and stick, except it was an apple and a golf club. None of these worked. The cow just meandered across the lawn, totally unperturbed by a thing we were doing. As we were contemplating having to forfeit the game, a pick-up truck hauling a wagon backed into the parking lot and the driver hopped out of the cab with a fly swatter. Opening the door of the wagon and lowering a ramp, he made a great show of the action with as much noise as possible. The cow raised her head, looked over to him, and began to lumber towards the truck. The driver walked over beside the cow, flicked the fly swatter on her flanks, and she began to trot to the parking lot. Within five minutes he had her inside the wagon where she stood munching on a crib of hay. "Sorry," was all he said. Then like a mystery superhero, he disappeared into the mist leaving us all to wonder what our next soccer field phenomenon might be.
               

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Head Bangers

Susan Boyd

An explosive book was published last month that exposes the concussion crisis in the NFL. "League of Denial" by two brothers, Mark Fainaru-Wada and Steve Fainaru, who are reporters for ESPN, takes a critical look at how the NFL ignored for decades the long-term debilitating effects of concussion on thousands of players. They use statistics, interviews, anecdotal stories of particular players, and a review of hundreds of documents referring to the effects of concussion leading to chronic traumatic encephalopathy (CTE). The leading expert on the subject is Ann McKee, who in 2012 examined the brains of 34 former NFL players discovering 33 showed evidence of CTE. As she put it, when questioned on the extent of the problem, "I don’t think everyone has it, but it’s going to be a shockingly high percentage." Her assessment is borne out by a study of high school athletes in the 2008-2009 academic year by Meehan, d’Hemecourt and Comstock in the American Journal of Sports Medicine. They looked at 544 athletes in various sports, both men and women. Of the players they examined in each of nine sports, they discovered that 56.8 percent of football players had suffered a documented concussion. The next highest percentage was surprisingly girls soccer with 11.6 percent compared to boys soccer with 6.6 percent. Wrestling and girls basketball follow with 7.4 percent and 7 percent, respectively. Girls do suffer more concussions and have a longer recovery time, which has been largely ignored in the discussions about head injuries. Most news stories focus on injuries to boys and men, but the statistics show that we should be closely monitoring females. A 2008 study by Northwestern University showed that 29,167 girls compared to 20,929 boys had concussions in 2005. Given that more boys participate in high school sports than girls and given that boys play football, having the highest percentage of concussion per player population, we should be not only cautiously aware, but seriously attend to the condition in women.
               
Dr. Ann McKee figures prominently in another book by Robert Cantu, M.D. and Mark Hyman, "Concussions and Our Kids," which, as the title implies, explores the causes, effects, recovery and prevention of concussions in youth athletes. Dr. Cantu is one of the founders of the Center for the Study of Traumatic Encephalopathy (CSTE) at Boston University. Dr. McKee performed studies on the brains of scores of athletes who had died either unexpectedly or from self-inflicted wounds finding widespread abnormalities in those brains. Dr. McKee takes the view that, "We need to do something now, this minute. Too many kids are at risk." Of course, she sees the worst case scenarios, athletes who suffered from CTE, most of them competing at the professional level with intense practices, games and training. However, Dr. Cantu sees mostly young people in his practice who have their routines and dreams shattered by the effects of a concussion. Mark Fainaru-Wada in an interview on "The Daily Show" admitted that he loved the game of football and "its violence" even as he had studied the widespread incidents and after-effects of concussions in those players. As he put it, "They are adult players who now willingly understand and take the risks, so there is no reason for fans to feel guilty." What he neglects to understand is that in order to get to the level of NFL membership, players have to come up through the ranks beginning with youth football, where the risk for concussion is just as great and where the players are too young to make informed decisions on their participation. Where will the new generation of tough NFL players come from if not from the networks of youth, high school and college teams? Parents have the primary responsibility to decide which sports their kids will play, how intensely and for how long.
               
Recently our local NBC affiliate went around to various football games to interview parents after a particularly devastating study on concussion was published. Sticking microphones in front of these parents during games, the reporters asked, "Knowing how serious concussions can be, why do you let your son play football?" Naturally, the responses all tended to the defensive since their parenting had been directly challenged publicly. I wish the reporters had asked instead, "Does your school have a concussion policy?" or "Has your child ever suffered a concussion and how did you handle it?" Obviously, most parents are aware of the possibility of brain injuries in sports, but many may not be aware of the symptoms and proper treatment of these injuries. The choice to allow our kids to play sports, especially sports with a high degree of concussion consequences, can’t be totally dictated by the possibility of any injury. If it was, no one would play. The more responsible approach will be to educate ourselves on how to recognize and treat these injuries. 
               
Concussions can occur without any head-to-head contact, but those types of concussions usually result in the most severe and long-lasting effects. Concussions can happen with any type of jolt to the brain stem or brain itself that could be due to things such as a jarring leap to the ground, whiplash, sudden twist of the neck or shaking of the brain. There are four main categories of symptoms:
 
o   Cognitive: Feeling in a fog, difficulty in remembering things, poor concentration
o   Emotional: Nervousness, irritability, sadness to the point of depression including thoughts of suicide
o   Sleep Disorders: Trouble falling asleep and sleeping more or less than usual
o   Somatic: Headaches, nausea, vomiting, sensitivity to light and noise, dizzy spells, problems with balance, visual problems
 
The latter are the symptoms most commonly associated with a concussion and are the usual immediate signs, but just because these pass doesn’t mean that the concussion wasn’t severe or is "over." Most effects of a concussion can last for days, weeks and even longer. The standard recovery period is 7-10 days of rest from all activities including diminished academic participation. We rest the body, but really it is the brain we need to rest. We need to remove as much stimulus to the brain as possible in order to give it time to heal. This is the element few doctors, coaches and parents consider. However, Dr. Cantu states that this could be the most important aspect of avoiding the long-term effects of a concussion, including CTE. We parents need to be aware of and address all the symptoms.
               
We also can’t assume that a "real" concussion requires that a player be unconscious for a period of time. Going out cold is definitely a serious condition and can be a clear signal that we need to be diligent in treatment. However, many concussions don’t result in a black out, which is why so many go unreported. Therefore we have to look at other symptoms. Athletic trainers and coaches need to be well-versed in how to assess concussive episodes. Many organizations provide laminated cards with key points and questions for detecting concussions. The most comprehensive test has been endorsed by several sports organizations, including FIFA. Called the Sports Concussion Assessment Test 2 (SCAT2), it seems overwhelming but is exactly what coaches and trainers should be administering on the sidelines. The test gives scores that help assessors detail in a more objective manner what used to be done totally subjectively. Many evaluators have expressed amazement at how detailed the assessment is and how it quickly pinpoints serious conditions that would have been previously overlooked. Parents should ask their clubs to print this off and have it kept on the sidelines in the coach’s bag for every practice and game. Most importantly, adults need to err to the side of caution until a child can be assessed by a doctor. That means no reentry to a game with even the slightest concern about a concussion.
               
Now comes the most important question, the question those reporters asked, but it is not being offered to invoke defensiveness: Why do we let our kids play sports that could result in serious, debilitating, even long-term injury? The answer is simple – because kids need to play sports. The benefits far outweigh the anecdotal and statistical data conjured up by the number of studies done in recent years. Kids develop better physically and cognitively when engaged in sports, they learn important lessons about success, failure, collaboration and sacrifice, and they have fun. The real issue is how we mitigate the injury issues that come with doing sports. We have to make sure that kids have the best safety equipment and training possible, that coaches are well-versed in proper management of potential injuries, and that proper emergency equipment be available either on site such a body boards and first aid kits or readily available such as ambulances and EMTs. We also need to be willing to insist that our children take a much-needed interruption from playing should any injury occur until completely cleared to reenter the sport by a physician. Big games will come and go, but a child’s health needs nurturing and protection since it is the only health he or she will have for a lifetime. With all the attention now being paid to the issue of CTE in NFL players, there will certainly be even more research on how to prevent and treat concussions which can only benefit our children. Most importantly, we can’t just be focused on boys receiving concussions or on football being the primary culprit. We need to be vigilant for our girls and for all sports as well. 
               
Some children are more prone to concussive events and unfortunately they may not be able to continue playing the sport they love. Two of my grandsons play football and one plays lacrosse, both of which have concussion issues. My oldest grandson, who is 13, has a teammate who has already suffered his third concussion. His grandfather is a college football coach and he lives in Columbus, Ohio, home to Ohio State, so leaving the game will be difficult. However, this is a decision his parents may have to face soon. There are other activities with less risk for concussion, and athletic children should be able to make a transition to another sport. We have to be prepared to counsel our children properly without taking into account our own dashed dreams for their athletic career. As a nation, we have not taken concussions seriously enough, but over the past five years a number of significant studies have highlighted not only the extent of the episodes but the possible prevention and treatment of concussions. This serious attention to brain injury hasn’t completely trickled down to youth sports, but it has made important changes. As a parent you can ask what your sports organization, club, team and high school have as policies concerning concussion. You can demand that they keep up with the latest studies and standards, including offering them the SCAT2. Significantly you need to be the advocate for your child’s safety no matter what the policies might be. If you expect a higher standard don’t be afraid to demand it for your child. We don’t want our child lying on a medical examiner’s slab at age 50 due to complications from years of concussive episodes and CTE. We’d rather our children were healthy enough to become the medical examiner or any other profession beyond the decade they might be able to play professional sports. In the eight decades of most people’s lives, that’s a tiny sliver of time for a particular achievement, and no one’s achievement needs to be measured solely by athletic prowess.

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