New Jersey is football country. Much more so than Boston. Probably not as much as Texas, but its certainly larger here than anywhere else I've ever lived before. And the difference isn't in New Jersians love of pro or college football. Nay, the difference is most noticeable in youth football. New Jersey is home to a number of high school powerhouses, and you don't have those without a strong series of feeder programs. This means youth football thrives and people take it rather seriously. Too seriously for my tastes, but I can't deny it gets the family together. I had to take a closer look.
The field next to my house is home to pee-wee football every weekend and most weeknights. That is it's only purpose, as the gates are locked and you can't get onto the field if the team isn't there. No other sports allowed. Football Only.
Sunday afternoons the massive parking lot can't contain the cars, which begin to work their way up the street, upon nearby grassy patches, and anywhere not expressly prohibited. The stands, built on both sides of the fields, fill up and the remaining fans/parents spread all the way up and down the sidelines in folding chairs. These games are pretty clearly a big deal, what with the attendance and money devoted to resources.
Besides, the fans are more interested in the outcome of a youth sporting than I've ever seen before. They care about winning and loosing, and aren't afraid to ruffle a few feathers along the way. One gentleman, sitting far away down the sidelines either for his benefit or the teams, saw fit to remind the coach with each failed offensive play that, “you've got more than one running back”, and “you can't always use speed, you've got to use POWER”. Evidently he was not pleased with the choice of personnel on the field. I wonder what he'd say to the rules I remember from little league requiring everyone to play the infield for at least one inning. It probably didn't warm his heart that the Edison Jets were blanked 21-0 that day.
The result couldn't be blamed on the coaches lack of desire, even if it the loss could be laid at his feet for other reasons. I heard the halftime speech. And calling it a speech seem generous, because it was more of a rant. As I listened in I had hoped to catch a speech the likes of one in the movie Miracle where the coach lifts up the teams hopes and confidence. Instead my ears were greeted with the coach chewing out most units on the team with lines like, 'Offensive line raise your hand. I can't see you. I don't think you're here, because I didn't see one out there. The offensive line is supposed to block, and nobody did that.” He followed that gem by turning his back and letting the assistant coaches finish the halftime talk, not that any of it did any good. Maybe teaching the youth how to block would serve better than telling them what a poor job they're doing, but then again I'm not a football coach. And he really did look like he wanted to win.
But at what cost to the kids? Late in the game the coach took a player out, chewing him out for missing a blocking assignment. The boy walked back to the bench, threw his helmet against the fence, followed by his gloves, and sat down on the brink of tears. Confidence and sportsmanship did not seem to be the guiding principals of this team.
Have I mentioned these kids were probably about 11? Which means the psycological scaring isn't even the most dangerous part of the game. Every journal article you read on youth football these days relates how much more dangerous football is for children under 12 than it already is for grownups. The effects of brain damage, concussions and the like increase dramatically for youth because the brain casing (or skull for you non-medical types) isn't fully formed yet. Why any parent would want to subject their child to this danger is beyond me.
Yet I can't help but admire the entire institution just a little. The day was beautiful and families were out in force together to support their children. When I say children, I mean both sons and daughters, as accompanying the football team was a team of 15 or so similarly aged female cheerleaders. Usually I'd be dogging and mocking cheerleaders of any sort, but I can't this time. The girls seemed to be really happy out there, with well practiced cheers and even a halftime routine involving lifts and a throw. Plus there were older cheerleaders present in the stands, supporting the younger girls. Friends, families and football – it all sounds pretty nice in that light.
Unfortunately, I can't just see it in that light. After the 11 year old game was the 12 year old, then the 13s and 14s. I didn't stay to watch, I'd seen enough. Family time is great, but ballet, soccer and trips to the museum offer family time without the possible brain damage, even if they don't assure children will be spared psychological scaring.
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