The pain of trying out

“When you’re a winner, you come back no matter what happened the day before.” – Billy Martin

The second semester is try-out season for many varsity sports, especially in basketball, after all the hype and publicity of the UAAP and NCAA seasons. Recruitment is now more aggressive than ever, with athletes and their parents being courted by athletic directors and so-called agents as early as grade school. Today, schools are even stricter with their varsity players. Some institutions even go to the extreme of threatening not to allow their athletes to graduate from grade school or high school unless they agree not to transfer.

I think it takes either of two traits to try out for a sports team: absolute ignorance or raw courage. Some youngsters show up blindly confident in their abilities, and they have no idea what they’re doing. Some kids think that a couple of months of playing in their garage against imaginary rivals will do it. The harsh reality hits them when they are asked to do drills they have no clue how to do.

There are others, too, who have worked far harder, and are still not sure of what their chances are. And yet, they go. They’re the ones who aren’t recruited, who read about it in the papers or hear about it from other players, and dream of making something better with their lives. In my book, they’re already winners for sticking their necks out.

I still remember when I tried out for my college basketball team almost thirty years ago. The practices were so hard, my hands would be shaking when I tried to drink a glass of water at home hours later. I was learning on the fly, and some of the veterans weren’t helping. In fact, some of them considered me a bother at best, a threat at worst.

And to think that, in three weeks, we hadn’t even scrimmaged yet.

There are several flaws to the tryout system, but what option is there other than recruiting a handful and sending a cattle call out to the rest?

It’s particularly frustrating if, for example, your child is a ‘tweener, for example, tall for his position. I remember when I attended a big basketball camp in Georgia a few years ago. NBA legend Jamal Wilkes’s son Jordan was being asked to play center because he was 6’10”. He refused, because he was a “small” forward like his father. But kids rarely speak up like that. What if your son is tall for a point guard, and half the kids are shorter, but are all point guards, as well? He’s going to have to demand the ball in scrimmages, and take command. Other than that, he’ll be submerged playing out of position, and never catch the eye of the coaches.

Many things could happen to hurt a player’s chances of getting noticed, too. He could get nervous, have a bad game, sprain his ankle, get frozen out (I’ve seen it happen), or given little playing time.

And once they do get the ball, are the coaches looking for someone who scores a lot, or someone who fits into the team? Coaches never define that, as well. They just tell candidates to go out and do their best.

That’s all.

Sometimes, I wonder what’s more nerve-wracking, being the player trying out, or watching as a parent. You can never tell when to stop building up your child’s confidence, because you don’t know what will be enough. And it stretches objectivity because, to most parents, their kid is perfect and can do no wrong. Tough to balance that with being a journalist who calls it the way it is. I sometimes think I might get schizophrenic when I watch my kids try out, or even play.

Also, they have to know the odds. I’ve never bought the excuse that there are only a few slots. If you’re good enough, you’re good enough.

Period. And if a coach doesn’t like you for  whatever reason, even a spectacular performance isn’t going to buy you a ticket. Especially at the high school level, when a lot of the coaches are also maturing and feel they have godlike power to determine your fate. Believe it or not, at that level some coaches still believe that not allowing your players to drink is a suitable consequence for not doing drills well.

If you’re a parent, the best thing you can do is give your child options. Don’t have them just try out for one school. In many cases, players from the lower level get priority, and only a few veterans graduate every year. Talk to the coaches, ask them what they’re looking for. If they need a big man and your kid’s a guard, then that tells you they’re going in a different direction. They won’t tell you outright not to attend.

Be realistic with your kid. If he’s not being recruited outright, he’s taking a major gamble. Some players are considered made commodities, like trees being grafted. Others are borderline consideration. Some aren’t even on the radar. If your child is the latter, he’ll have to work twice as hard, and there are still no guarantees. But, the most important thing is to assure your child that the outcome of the try-out does not define him or her as a person. It’s just the opinion of a few people who happen to be the coaches.

And explaining that without a few years can be harder than it looks, because coaches only see your offspring for two or three hours.

They’ll never really know them as persons, with all their other wonderful gifts.