I’m going to preface this by saying I played sports, so it’s what I connect to. But even if your passion is reading, music, or something else, I think the underlying message still applies.
As I’ve mentioned in a previous article, when I’m “in” on something, I’m all in. Growing up, that “something” for me was sports. Sure, there are worse things to obsess over, but a true obsession, no matter what it is, is never entirely healthy.
For example, when I was 10, I vividly remember having a bad game at second base. I made my dad stay after the game and hit me ground balls. People looking over probably thought it was his idea, but it was all me. They probably thought, “Man, that Webb Guy is crazy,” and they were partially right. But it was the younger Webb guy.
Sports taught me countless valuable lessons — things that translate directly to everyday adult life: punctuality, teamwork, discipline — you know the whole spiel. I’m extremely grateful for my time in sports, but I’ve also learned a lot that I would approach differently if I had the chance to do it all over again.
I learned the mentality it takes to be great at something: it has to consume you. I am thankful for that, and it’s a lesson a lot of people may not learn. It must be your everything, your constant focus. And that’s OK, it is great to want to be great — but if you’re not willing to commit in that way, you can’t be upset when you don’t come out on top or you’re not the best.
In my sport, I was willing to give it everything. I lived, breathed, and ate with the goal of being the best. Then, when I went to college at a Division I school, something clicked. I realized I didn’t want that to be my life. I wanted to do other things — I wanted to hunt, fish, and be a “normal” person. Not saying that was a bad choice — just that, at that point, I made the decision it wasn’t for me. And that’s OK too.
So, I transferred to a Division II school. There was still plenty of focus on the sport — it was like having a full-time job alongside school — but I was able to do other things. I could make time for family, and I could even get home to see my dog!
Looking back, what would I do differently? I would place less focus on sports growing up. I don’t miss that 4th-grade tournament we won. What I miss is hanging out with Brad Walter and skipping rocks at the creek. I don’t miss hitting batting practice with my dad (well… maybe a little), but I do miss going for ice cream with him. I wish I had focused more on friends and family, and less on the sport.
The whole “travel ball this” and “travel ball that,” and the way every kid now has a trainer for every aspect of their sport, can’t be all that healthy. Kids should just be allowed to go outside and be kids — play pick-up games with their friends, have fun, and learn through play. My favorite memories in sports were from local little league, West End, and John Bower basketball — playing with my friends and competing against local talent. Travel ball came later, and honestly, it felt more like a chore than fun.
This isn’t me saying my parents did a bad job — they did the absolute best. They gave up their weekends so my brother and I could travel and compete. They provided everything we needed and worked hard to put us in the best position to succeed. But looking back, I think we’d all probably agree that we could have taken a few less trips for travel ball and a few more family vacations.
To the kids chasing greatness and the parents supporting them: treasure the lessons sports teach, but don’t forget to leave room for joy. Sometimes the best memories aren’t on the scoreboard — they’re the moments you’ll never forget. Looking back, I wouldn’t trade my sports experiences for anything — but I also wouldn’t trade the ice cream with my dad, the creek with Brad, or the freedom to just be a kid. That’s the balance I hope every kid gets to experience.
“There is a time for everything, and a season for every activity under the heavens.” ~ Ecclesiastes 3:1
