By Megan Wood

Sadly, the LA Sol have been dissolved, leaving one less professional women’s soccer team to inspire young players. But there is a team out there to root for: Utah’s Mighty Cheetahs. This film is not new, but if you haven’t seen it or heard about it, watch the trailer here. In it, Mighty Cheetahs coach (and filmmaker) Jenny Mackenzie documents a third grade girl’s soccer team which pushes the boundaries of gender segregation in sports by competing in the boys division (for the first time in 2005). Mackenzie — who does public speaking — is coming our way tomorrow so we took time to talk with her about the film. Inspired to make it by her own mother and the reaction of fans on the sideline when their boy’s faced all-girl competition, Mackenzie follows her dream team of 8-year old girls as they make clear that the insult “Kick Like A Girl” is actually a compliment.

FGN: What personal experiences triggered your interests in this topic and the Kick Like A Girl project?

JM: Sports have always been an important part of my life.   When I became a mother, I knew that I wanted to coach my girls in a variety of sports and I knew that having female role models in all areas of their lives was important- on the playing field, in the work place, in school, and at home.  It was my own mom who inspiring me to start filming Kick Like A Girl. She had come out to visit at the beginning of the season we were playing against the boys, and she heard some of the sideline comments from the parents, and she said “Jenny you have a great story here.”

FGN: Why do you think young boys and girls are separated by gender in athletics?

JM: I think gender segregation in any aspect of life comes from an historical context.  We’ve made tremendous progress with gender equity and integration, but there are everyday issues that remind me that there is still a lot of work to be done.

FGN: Was it as big of a deal to the girls as it was to their parents and other community members that they were playing soccer with boys?

JM: No.  The girls were really pumped and excited for the next challenge. They were ready to continue to learn and grow.

FGN: What effect did a co-ed team have on the female and male players? What lessons did they carry off the field from their experience?

JM: I think it had lasting effects on all of the boys and girls, as well as their parents.  They all learned from each other- the boys learned to respect the girls on the playing field, and therefore in other areas of their lives as well.  They also learned as they watched the girls work together on the soccer field,  that teamwork is much more effective than the ‘one man show’.  The girls learned that the possibilities for them at the age of 9 to grow as young athletes were not limited by gender.

FGN: What were the reactions of the community when you presented this documentary? Is there more co-ed play in your community?

JM: The community has wrapped their arms around this film.  They are very proud of it, and yes it has inspired more co-ed play.  We are in the process of working with local and National Youth soccer boards to have co-ed opportunities through elementary school.

FGN: Do you have any plans for another film? Are you left with any lingering questions after you produced Kick Like A Girl?

JM: I have two projects in development- one called Teen Love, an in depth look at the reality of teenage love, romance, and sexuality.  The other film is called Sugar Babies, and it looks at the public health epidemic of Diabetes through four children living with diabetes.

I’m not a parent. I don’t know what it’s like to be on the sidelines watching your child compete — and feeling powerless. But I am a Gen-Y athlete who saw friends’ parents embarrass themselves in the stands of lacrosse, field hockey, and soccer games.

Heading into the Fall sports season, I want to give second life to something I read in the New York Times Magazine. An article about the Bryan brothers of tennis fame quotes their father saying something so quintessentially perfect, I couldn’t let it go without responding. In talking about a parent’s role in the aftermath of a game, match, or meet, he says:

“…win or lose, the script is the same: First question: Do you want water or Gatorade? Second question: Where do you want to get something to eat? Third question, if the child is 16 or older: Do you want to drive or should I? “It’s really that simple,” he observes. “If the child wants to talk about the match, you listen. But don’t critique. . . . Your role is to minimize pressure, not create it.”

Hallelujah!

Parents at all levels of organized sport need a serious reality check. You’re not the coach. You’re not the ref. And you’re not the SportsCenter analyst. It doesn’t matter if you played the game your kid is now playing for the past 50 years, none of that applies to your job as Mom or Dad.

Your role (as Wayne Bryan points out) is to be a pressure minimizer. The Bryan brothers’ success is a testament to this parenting style (in addition to a serious dose of God-given talent). My experience provides a similar lesson:

My father was the best sports-dad ever. He drove, he brought water, he watched quietly — and he hugged when it was all over. He never tried to create a ‘fire in my belly’ as I suspect other parents did, nor did he recreate circumstances from the game to tell me what I should have done. He let me be competitive on my own terms. In doing that, he preserved my absolutely authentic love of the game.

When I played well, yeah, we replayed the whole thing on the car ride home and over dinner. When I played poorly, we moved on to the next topic of the day. He was interested, but not overly invested. That was all I ever wanted, and it was all he ever did. Thanks, Dad.

      

Photo Credit: Sam Rubin, Yale Sports Information

Lauren Taylor is assistant lacrosse coach at Yale, former three-time college All-American, and 2009 graduate of the Yale School of Public Health who now works for the Yale Global Health Leadership Institute.

When I take a moment to think critically about sports — and youth sports in particular – it seems bizarre to consider how passionate we all are. In concrete terms, after all, the grass field has no meaning without us on it. The rules of the game are worthless unless we believe the score reflects some form of superiority. As athletes, we charge the game with meaning.

But why? Why is it important — and why do we play?

This is one of my favorite questions to ask the laxers I coach. In my small consulting business, I get to work with players on an individual basis and it never takes long for this issue to surface.

Typically, when I first ask the question, I get puzzled looks. The girls suspect I’m some nutty Yale-educated existentialist. After the shrugging, fidgeting and squirming, however, words emerge. The first round of spoken answers are something like “Well, because it’s fun” or “Because my friends do it.” To many young players, this may be all there is to the question. In some cases, I may leave it at that.

But for most of my high school players, I push further. “OK, but what else?”

This gets the wheels turning. From here, conversations embark in unique directions. Some girls talk about wanting to make Dad proud; others describe feeling a sense of identity as an athlete; and still others reference the bonding among teammates that comes with long bus rides and pre-game rituals.

When I think back to why I played, I know my motivations ebbed and flowed over time. I was a ten-year-old who liked to get dirty – and was loud and aggressive. At 14, I was awkward everywhere but on the lacrosse field. As a 17-year-old, I needed sports to balance the chaos of an AP-heavy academic schedule.

Now, as a coach, I am struck by what you can learn about a player by asking an open-ended question and shutting up. Each conversation helps me to identify the value systems on which a particular player bases her decisions. I become better informed about root causes of success, struggle and failure. In short, I become a more effective coach.

An example: A young player who tells me she plays because she wants Dad to be proud will not respond to my yelling at her during a game because as I yell, Dad watches, and instead of listening to me, this player thinks about what Dad hears from his seat in the bleachers. Her play suffers. Inevitably, there’s a breaking point beyond which she reasons there’s no way of making him proud today – might as well pack up and go home.

In that scenario, I’ve lost her for the rest of the game — and I may not even know it. That is, unless we’ve discussed her motivations for playing. If we have, then I can use her value system to my team’s advantage – leveraging the fact that Dad is there to privately encourage her to dare to be great today. I can even use her language: “I bet Dad would be really proud if he saw you running as hard as you can after every loose ball.”

This may be a single (and common) example. But I believe it matters at virtually every level of sports competition. Sure, coaching at higher levels you can be more selective about choosing players who are driven to play for one reason or another.

A college coach can seek recruits whose their internal drive is in line with the program and team values. But at youth and even high school levels, attaining such homogeneity almost never happens. Youth coaches, on the other hand, would be wise to accept – and even embrace – their players’ motivational diversity.

Lauren Taylor is assistant lacrosse coach at Yale, a former three-time college All-American selection, and and 2009 graduate of the Yale School of Public Health who now works for the Yale Global Health Leadership Institute.

Justine Siegal is billed by her team, The Brockton Rox, as the first woman to coach men’s professional baseball (they play in the Canadian-American Association of Professional Baseball or Can-Am League). She is also founder of BaseBall for All, which supports female players and provides baseball instruction around the world (Siegal coached last year in India and Hong Kong). Siegal coaches for the Springfield College Baseball team – and is a Ph.D. candidate in sports psychology. She spoke during her daily commute from Campanelli Stadium in Brockton, MA.

FGN: How long have you been playing baseball?

JS: I started playing when I was five. I played men’s baseball until I was 22.

FGN: You coach for a men’s professional team, the Brockton Rox. What do you do?

JS: I’m a rookie coach. I just started. I’ve been throwing a lot of batting practice.

FGN: How have the players reacted?

JS: So far, everyone who has spoken to me has been very supportive. I tell them I am there to help them become better baseball players and help the team win a championship – just like every coach there.

FGN: What are your career ambitions?

JS: One of my goals is to be a college baseball coach. No woman has ever been a head college baseball coach.

FGN: Why do so few girls try baseball?

JS: There is a lot of pressure on girls to play softball. I played baseball a long time – I played through high school – and I felt like every day someone was asking me to play softball instead. And I was on the baseball team! In my mind, it’s because those in power don’t want girls to play baseball. It’s considered a boy’s game.

FGN: Why do many girls switch from baseball to softball when they reach middle school?

JS: The girls who play baseball are great athletes so a college scholarship in softball is a real possibility; a scholarship in baseball is a possibility, but the [chances] are lower. It’s sad to me when girls switch when they don’t want to. One of my goals is to help them over the hump. I tell the girls, “Why can’t it be you? Why can’t you make it?” We keep taking ourselves out of the game.

FGN: What is the role of the coach in all this?

JS:  The coach is key. The girls who have a really good time on their [baseball] teams, it is coach-directed. If coaches from junior high would say, “I’d like you to try out,” that would be huge. The problem is that everyone says to girls, “Oh baseball is fun when you’re just a kid, now it’s time to move over.” That is a lesson we are teaching girls. And we are teaching boys the same lesson: Gender rules.

FGN: What about females as umpires?

JS: There are a few female umpires in the minor leagues. There is no reason women can’t be umpires and Major League Baseball knows that. There are just so many men who want to be umpires it is a matter of numbers. You need to get more girls umpiring.

FGN: Why does matter to have women in baseball?

JS: It’s important for two reasons. Without pioneers we don’t see any progress. Second, it’s important for each of us to find out what we’re made of. If we just give up playing for a reason that doesn’t make sense, it’s wrong. Some people are told they are to short or their skin’s the wrong color. We are told that just because of our gender we shouldn’t play – I don’t think that’s a good enough reason.