When Staying Out Is the Hardest Part

Loving an elite athlete without getting in the way

I didn’t expect that watching my son play hockey would get harder as he got older.

Not because I don’t want to. I love watching how fast they skate, how quickly they handle the puck, and how instinctively they make plays. It’s a real skill, and it always leaves me in awe.

When he was younger, my competitive side probably took over more than I realized. At this elite junior level, it’s different. It’s not just competitiveness anymore, it’s my mom heart too. The game is more physical. Fights happen. Injuries happen. And once you’ve watched your kid need immediate hospital care more than once, your body never really forgets that fear.

Photo by Klim Musalimov on Unsplash

I learned quickly that getting involved usually makes things worse. Not because I didn’t care, but because I cared too much. My husband, an elite athlete himself, told me early on that unless something truly crosses a line, stepping in only adds pressure. I trusted that, even when every instinct in me wanted to protect my kid.

I’ve also seen what happens when parents do get involved. I’ve seen the confusion and sadness on athletes’ faces. Kids who still love the game, but feel caught in the middle. The fun starts to disappear, not because of hockey, but because of everything around it.

When kids reach an elite level early, especially around 14, the environment changes fast. It isn’t really for parents anymore. It’s for athletes to learn accountability and resilience.

There’s another part people don’t always see. My son doesn’t want me to watch the hardest moments either. My husband is always there and keeps me posted, and that’s something we’ve quietly agreed on.

It’s not that I don’t love watching his games. I do. But I don’t need to see every hit or fight to be proud of him. He doesn’t live at home, and most games are televised anyway. I’ll check in. I’ll watch when I can. I’ll hear about it after.

I don’t have this figured out.

I’m still learning how to love the game, love my kid, and sit with the parts that scare me.

If you’re a parent sitting in the stands feeling all of this and not knowing what to do with it, you’re not alone.

Staying out is work. And some days, it’s the hardest part.

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