If you have talented, dedicated, interested older children, I recognize the value of getting them to someone who knows things about sports that you and/or their coaches don’t. But it strikes me that there is an epidemic of personal trainers out there, a horde of people charging parents for drilling little kids in one-on-one practice sessions. Many of the little kids would rather be, well, doing something else, and this explosion of personal trainers is another sign of our era of sports-obsessed parenting.
Once you get a trainer involved for eight-year-old Chris, the days of sports as primarily fun are over — if not for little Chris, then certainly for you. How can you bear to watch Chris have an eight-year-old moment on the field on Saturday — “Look at that plane!” — when on Wednesday you paid someone $50 for a half-hour to work on the science of footwork?
Maybe I’m just jealous, because I kind of wish I had had a personal trainer or two growing up. If I had, maybe I could have followed through on a secret dream I’ve never before revealed in public: I so wish I could have been an NFL quarterback. I would have loved to sling a football around the gridiron in the pros. Now, if I had a trainer who would have made me taller, faster, and tougher; increased my bodily-kinesthetic intelligence [1] exponentially; and helped me build a much, much, much stronger throwing arm, I know I could have had a shot at this now not-so-secret dream.
Aw, playing in the NFL is too high a bar, but when I think back on it, there are other trainers I wish I had known:
- Trouble [2]teacher who shows you how to pop the pop-o-matic to make a six come up and uses a detailed decision tree to help you decide when to move a peg home or bring out a new one.
- Tree climbing tutor, possibly from from the organization “Don’t Look Down,” a title that also summarizes the primary piece of advice offered by its flora-scaling gurus.
- D&D [3] advisor who instructs you how to increase your chances of rolling a 20 on the 20-sided die, how to con other players out of magic items, and how to negotiate with your DM so you can introduce all of those game-unbalancing new abilities and henchmen into the campaign.
- Oreo [4]separator guide. I imagine I don’t need to defend this talent nor the need for its perfection.
- Cafeteria speed coach. How many times did you wish you could have eaten your sandwich and apple faster so you could rush outside to recess?
- Kick-the-can [5] clinician who improves your ability to rotate your head around to spot hiders and uses plyometrics [6]to increase your can-launching distance by several feet.
- Jarts [7]teacher who helps you put the Jart in the circle and not in your parents’ brand-new gutter.*
- Red light/green light [8] one-on-one mentor who runs you through an intense series of drills to teach the fundamentals (red=stop) as well as how to transition quickly from high-speed clomping to motionlessness.
- Wiffle Ball [9] coach who shows you how to throw a nine-foot curve and catch a ball bouncing off a roof at a weird angle.
- Expert in how to cut out eyes from magazines and put them in glasses so you can sleep in class but look awake. The ones I made always were too big and were never straight. I was snagged instantly. (I did not improve on this at my first job either, by the way.)
Ah, imagine the kid I would have been if I had had all of these personal trainers. Granted, I might not have had much time for the actual activities themselves, what with this manic schedule of personal development and improvement, but aside from the possibility of Wiffle Ball scholarships, when I played some Trouble, people would know who was boss.
*Alas, this really did happen, thanks to my good friend Pete, who I should point out did not have a Jarts trainer.
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[12]Scott Warnock [13]
[12]Latest posts by Scott Warnock (Posts [14])
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