Editorial - Tuesday May 21, 2013

Thou shalt not cheer

JUST when you think common sense is making a comeback someone pops out of the woodwork with another brainwave, and once again we are instructed to modify our behaviour to avoid harming others.

Some Aucklanders copped another such instruction last week, and will probably try to pass it on to us in the provinces some time soon, courtesy of the Eastern Suburbs Football Club. Coach (and former All White) Billy Harris is concerned, it seems, that parents are making their presence felt on the sidelines in such a way that his 5- to 9-year-old charges are in danger of being damaged.

Harris wasn't complaining about the mythical abusive parents, he or she who screams at their kids, and others, and referees, the sort of parent who we might mistakenly believe is to be found at every kids' game in the country every Saturday morning but in reality is probably as rare as hens' teeth. Oh no, the parents that were costing him sleep were those who were there to support and encourage their kids. It seems now that even positive support is negative as far as kids are concerned, and it would be better for the players if their mums and dads kept their mouths shut.

Sadly, this extraordinary missive, delivered to parents by email, seems to have had the desired effect. Newspaper reports on Sunday said the previous day's sidelines had been "eerily quiet", although some renegade parents, those who obviously didn't give a tinker's cuss about the harm they might have been inflicting upon their offspring, and others, just couldn't help themselves. There are always some, aren't there? Mind you, they didn't abuse anyone or denigrate their kids or the opposition. They were more subtle than that. They applauded. That is, they clapped their hands. Not too loudly, one hopes. One also hopes that once the euphoria had worn off they were suitably ashamed of themselves.

Admittedly, they reserved their disgraceful if spontaneous outbursts of unadulterated bias for the scoring of goals. No word yet whether any of the kids were mentally scarred, but the psychiatric assessments should be available in a day or too.

Some parents have reportedly welcomed this ridiculous rule, however. One was quoted as saying she appreciated the chance to catch up socially with other sideline parents without a cacophony of shouting and yelling in the background. Another said she was happy to watch in silence but her mother wasn't. Mum was of the generation that liked to run up and down the sideline yelling. Hopefully she will be banned before she does any more damage.

The writer has some first-hand knowledge of sideline behaviour at kids' sport, experience that might well vindicate the theory that Far North parents are cut from better cloth than those in Auckland. In all the years of watching his children play netball and his grandchildren play soccer, he has not encountered one parent whose contribution could be described as negative or potentially damaging (although one or two soccer coaches tended to be more animated than others).

The netball years, on the courts in Kaitaia, were in the days when participation was huge. Hundreds of kids turned out every Saturday, rain, hail, occasionally shine, the major talking point between parents tending to be the draw that saw a team play one game at 9.15, in the rain, and the second at 11.30, still in the rain. From memory the sideline advice, in the early days, was largely restricted to 'Spread out!' Anyone who has ever watched 5-year-olds play netball knows that they stick around in bunches, those players who do not have the ball looking on she who does with undisguised admiration, while she with the ball wonders what she's supposed to be doing with it.

The cheering stepped up a notch after a couple of years, when the Oturu School all stars finally managed to start scoring goals. That was quite something to watch after a couple seasons of nil-all, nil-all, 1-nil, nil-all ...

Grandkids' soccer followed a slightly familiar pattern. The beginners didn't always understand the importance of not congregating around the player with the ball, and not uncommonly needed reminding from time to time which direction they were supposed to be running in. Some just had a wild slash at the ball if it happened to pass where they were standing. And they had the time of their lives.

Every parent and every coach has no doubt watched their pride and joy picking daisies while the game went on around them, practise their handstands or just engage in conversation with team mates as the ball whizzed by, occasionally, more by good luck than good management, bound for the back of the net.

Three of Ahipara's 5-year-old stars in the making once drove their coach to distraction by practising what appeared to be line dancing moves in the middle of a game, and the writer's granddaughter once brought a halt to proceedings to point out to the ref that she had a loose tooth.

The interesting thing is that at every one of those games, netball and soccer, the parents were noisy. They applauded good play, whoever was responsible for it - hear that, Mr Harris ? - and as skill levels rose and games became more intense they applauded even more. The writer has heard, on countless occasions, Ahipara parents and coaches congratulating opposition players, loudly and sincerely.

Goals were not infrequently celebrated with scenes of unreserved jubilation, of the kind once reserved for Ranfurly Shield-winning tries, but that level of exultation was never displayed when the game was one-sided. In fact he has seen children very clearly easing off when the opposition has had trouble keeping up. The level of sportsmanship shown in the Kaitaia soccer competition over recent years has in many cases been exemplary.

Perhaps it's different in Auckland, but probably not. The kids there would no doubt be delighted that their parents are sufficiently supportive not only to get them to the game, then stand on the sideline, but to be excited when they do well. If there is some other means of conveying pride, delight and excitement than by cheering perhaps the Eastern Suburbs FC will tell us what it is.

The other problem with silliness of this sort is that it encourages others. One Sunday newspaper correspondent last week blamed Super rugby for failing to control abuse, specifically the supposedly increasing tendency for crowds to boo when the opposition is attempting to kick a goal. That, she said, could be actively discouraged by the use of billboards and the grounds' big screens, and the printing of 'Booing prohibited. Fair play rules apply here' on tickets.

Booing can be a bit of a blight on the game of rugby (except in Munster, where the crowds invariably fall into total silence as a kick is lined up, albeit letting rip once it leaves the tee), but one suspects that none of these suggested cures will work. Hopefully this woman will never be in a position to control crowd behaviour at the under-7s.

In the meantime Mr Harris should dig out his copy of Rudyard Kipling's poem If, and read his advice on the subject of meeting with Triumph and Disaster, and treating "those two impostors just the same." That's what we should be teaching our kids - to be humble in victory and gracious in defeat, rather than letting them think that their best endeavours leave us unmoved.