The Agony and Ecstasy of Being a Sports Mom

I wonder what it's like to be the Mom of an NFL draft prospect

Photo by Sandro Schuh on Unsplash

This year, for the first time ever, my husband and I sat down to watch the first day of the NFL draft. The first two days of the draft are on a Thursday and Friday so in years past we’ve gone about our business at work or at home and caught up on the picks that evening. The final day, Saturday, we would have the tv on in the background or only watch when it was our teams turn to choose. This year was different. There was a lot of upheaval in the NFL including our home team the Seattle Seahawks. We were excited to see where our team was headed (spoiler alert: DEFENSE) but also how our competition might stack up.

We printed off a few mock drafts and a complete analysis of the top 200 draft picks (72 pages!!). I learned a few helpful facts about player positions, how the players are analyzed (like a cow at a cattle auction), and that according to tradition, Roger Goodell, NFL Commissioner, gets booed every time he steps on stage. The draft had a record setting attendance this year, 700,000 fans sharing their frustrations with the guy in charge. The booing is now a tradition, so much so that Mr. Goodell stops and pauses during his stage appearance to let the fans have their disgruntled moment.

Here’s what I really wanted to hear but didn’t: the stories of the 257 athletes waiting to hear their name called.

Think about it: There were 257 players waiting to hear their names called and only thirteen of the top picks get invited to the actual live draft event. What you see on tv is thirteen players and their families gathered together in a ballroom, sitting at their individual tables, cameras scanning the room and then focusing on the players and their families as their names are called. The other 244 draft prospects are brought in by live-feed camera, usually sitting on their living room couches with a big group of supporters in the background. The hopeful, expectant faces of these young men just waiting to hear their name. Here’s where my mind went: straight to the Mom’s. Because I was a sports mom.

I watched those football plyer Moms on camera with a keen eye. There were hoots and hollers and dancing - ALL OUT JOY. Others sat quietly, holding hands with a special someone, waiting for the right time to hug their kiddo. Some stood quietly to the side, letting their boy have his moment. So many of them had tears.

As the names were called I kept wondering what it must be like to be the Mom of an NFL draft prospect.

I’m also a Mom of an athlete. My daughter fell in love with basketball in fourth grade. She stepped right onto the court of her very first practice for a rec center team and that little nine year old dropped a three point basket on her first shot. From that moment on, any spare time I had became time spent nurturing (and keeping in check) this girls love for her sport.

Our family lived the #ballislife lifestyle until her second year of playing college ball when the heartbreak of injuries and personal decisions forced her into retirement. My brain said that her retirement was probably a good thing for her physical and mental state. But my heart just didn’t know what to do for this girl who had built her life around this sport, who had given everything she had to reach her goal of playing in college. It was painful to watch.

As I watched the Draft I couldn’t help but bring my experience to the Mom’s on the screen. Even as I write this now I can feel the tightness in my throat and a strong wave of emotions. Pain and pride, love and joy, confidence and worry all rolled into one. The stoic Mom’s were the ones that got to me. Holding in the emotions even though they were written all over their faces.

Years and years of hard work to help their kids chase a dream and to see them succeed is an emotional doozy in all the good ways.

“What was it like for you?” I wondered as the faces of these mothers passed across the tv screen.

Were you an all-in parent who bent your life to support your athlete, or maybe you were happy to support from afar (or not at all)?

Did you finish up your workday from the bleachers at a football field like I did from the basketball bleachers?

Were you disappointed when work or family schedules made it impossible to attend games? Or was it sometimes a relief to have a break from the game?

How many weekends were spent on the road with a car full of kids? Did you let them play their hype playlist with cringey inappropriate lyrics?

Tell me about those conversations after disappointing efforts, heartbreaking losses, or team drama.

Tell me about when they got their drivers license and you were ecstatic to add “retired” next to the Chauffeur job on your resume.

Tell me about 3 months later when you were sad that you didn’t have that car time with them anymore because that was when you had some of the best conversations.

Were you in awe of your childs determination, their endurance, their talent?

Tell me about working through injuries. I imagine those were some deep frustrations that took a lot of fortitude.

Tell me how it felt when they received their college acceptance letter and THEY WERE THE FIRST TO ATTEND COLLEGE IN YOUR FAMILY.

Were you thinking about how your life was about to change too? Did you think about the things you gave up to help him pursue his dream?

What did it feel like to hear their name get called and know it was time to let your child fly on their own?

Best of luck to all of the NFL draft picks and their families. This Mom will be following along with the NFL season, waiting for that moment to say “I watched him get drafted!” and then I’ll raise a toast to his Mom;)

I’d love to hear your experiences as the parent of an athlete!

K. Be good.

P.S. You’re doing great!