Saturday, they dropped like sandbags around the eyes of tired children. Left and right they fell, young boys in football uniforms strewn about the field at Hanapepe Park with injuries varied. Coaches rushed to their aid, stretching cramped legs or
Saturday, they dropped like sandbags around the eyes of tired
children.
Left and right they fell, young boys in football uniforms strewn
about the field at Hanapepe Park with injuries varied. Coaches rushed to their
aid, stretching cramped legs or extolling a player to walk off the mild ankle
sprain.
One in particular, a receiver/defensive back for the Hanapepe
Broncos of the midget league, was helped from the field with his arm in a
sling, a broken arm apparent.
Such passed another weekend of Pop Warner
football. Another round of injuries to boys between the ages of eight and 15,
playing a game predicated on violence, throwing young bodies into a cauldron of
fury.
And that’s what I’ve heard recently, that there’s too much in the
way of injury, that these boys – underdeveloped, the critics say – should not
be suiting in full pads in an effort to mangle one another.
Certainly there
is a point to all of this, some legitimacy in the notion that a boy of eight
may not be ready to bear the brunt of full-on contact. But these are calculated
risks assumed by parents and coaches, and asked for by the boys who
participate.
For them, the rewards of football, perhaps more than any other
team sport, far outweigh the drawbacks.
Cohesion, teamwork, pride, courage,
loyalty, work ethic, competition, sportsmanship, these are just a few of the
concepts that embody a game more noted for its violent aspects.
For the
athletically inclined youngster, however, there may be no better way to impart
these values than through sport. The gridiron provides a place of structure and
discipline, responsibility and accountability. Coaches of football teams, Pop
Warner included, are some of the least tolerant men anywhere. Compassionate,
yes, but tolerant no.
Most often, a coach will not be found to accept
argument or laziness. Instead, through demanding a youngster to work, these men
lament the qualities that turn impressionable boys into responsible
men.
Therein does Pop Warner serve its purpose.
But the teaching does
not begin and end at game time on Saturday afternoon. Pop Warner is not a
once-a-week exfoliating of enthusiasm. There is preparation. And there is care
taken to ensure that not just any boy or girl — yes, girls play, too, three of
them this year on Kaua’i — can suit up for action.
There sits the image in
my mind of a youngster prone rather to Sega than sport, being pushed by a
parent into pads and a helmet. That can’t happen in Pop Warner. As Lihu’e
president Todd Young said, “there are rules in place to make sure kids are
physically fit.”
Youngsters must practice for 20 hours — in pads, yes, but
mainly conditioning — before they are allowed full contact. If a kid cannot
hack it, he or she is encouraged to seek activity elsewhere.
But for those
who meet the bar, a stint of structure and possible injury awaits.
One is
the potential price paid for the benefits of the other. Pop Warner is good for
kids, and those who lead the youngsters to battle should be praised.
