The Highly Competitive Child

Coach after coach has assured me that this is a great quality; that he just needs to "harness" and "channel" his intensity and my son's uber-competitiveness "will serve him well in life".  Hmmm.  All I know is that it has been a long, embarrassing, bumpy ride.

At 4, he was fielding the baseball and making outs all over the field.  It didn't matter what his position was, or where the ball was hit.  He would get the ball and run it in to make the out.   He assumed the defensive responsibility for the entire team.  Granted, he was the only 4 year-old NOT kicking dirt or watching butterflies (like his mother did many years ago).  He was completely focused and engaged, ready to make every play.  In T-ball.

At 6, he would yell at his soccer teammates whom he deemed "out of position" or "not paying attention".  He would come off the field, frustrated with the many moving parts that he could not control.  He was flabbergasted by the kids who didn't care as much as he did.  He would say to me, "Why is he even playing?"  Countless lectures went like this:

"Aidan, you're six.  Not everyone takes it as seriously as you do.  Everyone is there to learn and have fun.  Just go out and have fun".  He looked at me like I had nine eyes.

In the 4th grade, his baseball team played in the championship game.  And lost.  They won a pretty sweet 2nd place trophy, which thrilled all of the boys except Aidan.  There is a picture of his team, each boy holding his 2nd place trophy and sporting a smile.  Then there's my kid.  Looking stone-faced, with tears streaming down.  Like someone just ran over his dog.

When his team was winning, all was right in the world.  The action on the field matched the plan in his mind.  But when things got rough, oh boy!  Drama.

I realize it is not the worst problem in the world.  It really is quite small.  But it was embarrassing and discouraging when he would throw a bat or lash out at me from the sidelines.  This was not the otherwise intelligent, well-behaved, kid that I was working so hard to raise.  There were so many times that I wanted to hide under the bleachers. 

In his young mind, he just figured that if he played by the rules and worked hard, then things should turn out in his favor.  Not so, young Aidan.  Sometimes the other team is just better.  Sometimes refs miss calls.  Sometimes it's just not your day.  You pick yourself up and you keep moving forward.  This is why you play, son.  Not to win.  To learn about life.

Oh, the things we tried.  When he was really little, we would bribe him with NASCAR  replicas if he could keep his emotions in check when things didn't go well.  Didn't work.  We tried to give him consequences for poor sportsmanship.  That didn't work either.  I wanted to fix him, nip it in the bud.  That just wasn't going to happen.  It took a lot of time, experience, and talking. 

Today, he is still extremely competitive.  He's just wired that way.  But as he grows and lives and plays, he has a better perspective and attitude.  He still has his moments and he really, really likes to win.  But I see more and more glimmers of maturity and composure on the field.

Much like he can't control all of the moving parts on the field, I don't have control over his development as a person.  No matter how excruciatingly mortifying our children's missteps can be, sometimes it's just up to them to grow into it and figure it out.  That's been a tough one for me.

He is fun to watch.  His intensity has been a thorn in my side, but it is part of his passion as a player and a person.  I hope he can use that passion for good in his life.  And I think he is learning that the bumps in the road are part of the deal.  Life is beautiful, complicated, messy, and miraculous.  Just like my boy.