Deep Thought #3: Finding the Sweet Spot in Parental Involvement
Joel AndersonShare
Let’s talk balance. Not the kind your kid needs to nail a fadeaway jumper or a flawless handstand, but the balance parents need to strike between supporting and smothering.
In my years of coaching thousands of kids (and their parents), I’ve seen it all. On one end of the sideline, we’ve got the “Helicopter Parent,” complete with laminated playbooks and detailed mid-game suggestions shouted louder than the actual coaches. These folks mean well, I get it—nobody wants their kiddo to fail. But here’s the kicker: too much involvement often leads to kids feeling trapped, pressured, and ultimately burned out. Trust me, your meticulously crafted three-ring binder of drills isn’t the secret sauce you think it is.
Then, on the opposite sideline, we have the ghost parents. You know, the ones who drop the kid off at practice, vanish faster than a teenager asked to do chores, and rarely reappear. While these kids might enjoy a brief sense of freedom, what they miss out on is critical: the validation and support that signal their activities—and by extension, they themselves—matter.
So, what’s the magical middle ground?
Research (and my own trials and errors on countless courts) points to something behavioral scientists call “normative parenting.” Fancy name, simple idea: be involved, but give your kid space. Cheer them on from the stands, but keep the clipboard at home. Show up, watch, and smile—but avoid the urge to dissect every play on the car ride home.
How do you know if you’re hitting this sweet spot? Easy:
• Your kid asks you to come to games but doesn’t beg you to leave them alone.
• You offer help, but you let them solve problems on their own first.
• You celebrate their effort and grit, not just wins and trophies.
Look, sports teach kids resilience, teamwork, and—believe it or not—independence. But they can only learn these lessons if we let them. Support them, yes, but also trust them to find their footing.
Finding balance isn’t easy, but neither is a clutch free throw or perfect soccer header. It takes practice, patience, and yes—a bit of humor. So next game, leave the binder at home and just bring your smile. Trust me, your kid—and their coach—will thank you.