The Only, Possibly Depressing, Life Lessons Children Need From Sports

As Indianapolis Colts fans, we all had a sense the team likely wasn't going to sign Reggie Wayne for a 15th season, but it was still a gut-punch. Wayne was a wide receiver who bridged the Peyton Manning and Andrew Luck eras, a star who emerged from the shadow of someday-Hall-of-Famer Marvin Harrison to become a favorite of Colts fans real and fictional (recall Andy Dwyer of "Parks and Recreation" getting married in a Wayne jersey), in part for his tradition of over-the-top training camp arrivals. Wayne took over the local "Reg-gie, Reg-gie" chant after Reggie Miller retired from the Indiana Pacers, and there is no Reggie to take it over from him.

Intellectually, we fans knew Wayne's recent history of injuries and declining production meant his time in Indianapolis was limited; after all, the Colts even cut Manning, without whom Colts owner Jim Irsay would not have a shiny new stadium and a place on the Forbes Billionaire List. But it was still hard to watch someone who had contributed so much for so long, again, be tossed to the scrap heap without honor.

But then again, how is that much different than what most of the rest of us go through? As I thought about Wayne, I thought about life lessons that sports is alleged to teach, and I came to the conclusion that only two really matter: that you are never in full control of your fate, and that things will rarely end exactly on your terms. The two lessons are intertwined, but worth breaking out separately.

When I say you're never in full control of your fate, I'm not talking necessarily about a higher power's presumed influence, though if you want to take it that way, be my guest. What I mean is that no matter how hard you work, no matter how skilled you are, no matter how much money you have, there are too many other people, events and worldly moving parts around you that could change your situation. Certainly, if you work hard, have skills and a make lot of money, you can have better control, or at least create the illusion of control. Life is all about knowing what you control, and what you can't, and how much it's possible to adjust your situation to the things you can't control. If you're looking for easy advice to this, forget it: if I knew, I would control my situation by delivering the answer for enormous amounts of money at live appearances, not putting it in a youth sports blog.

That level of control extends to ending things on your own terms. There are all sorts of experiences where you don't get to end something when you want, the way you want, as anybody who has ever dated can attest. The simplest sports lesson in not ending things on your own terms is that only one team at a time gets to win a championship. But in terms of Wayne's example, there is a good chance that you'll get laid off at some point in your career -- that has happened to me twice. If you haven't learned the lesson about not being in full control of your fate, will make you feel even worse than you do about losing your job -- there had to be something I could have done to save it! (No, there wasn't.)

It took me years to get over my first layoff, because I was so wracked with guilt that there was something I could have, should have done to save it. The second time, it was hard, but I realized from the get-go this was a decision bigger than anything I was doing. Also, I had a family with four kids by then, so I didn't have the luxury of moping.

And as far as being sent out the door with a retirement party? Guess again. My late father took buyouts twice from the same company in his early to mid-50s, and he should have felt fortunate he got out the door with something in hand. But he never learned the lesson about never being in full control of your fate -- in part because believing he was in control helped get him out of a rough childhood into middle-class success. So being told his services were no longer needed was even more crushing.

Granted, part of the reason Reggie Wayne was shown the door was because his skills as a wide receiver were deteriorating. But the lesson for all of us is this: once our services are no longer required, we will be sent packing, no matter how well we've performed in the past. And it might not be because our skills are falling.

These aren't exactly the kind of life lessons usually ascribed to sports, such as if you work hard and dream big all of what you want will come true blah blah blah. The youth sports industry couldn't be the multi-billion business it is without repeating that mantra incessantly. The life lessons I'm talking about sound far less inspirational -- though what would you expect from a guy who named his youth sports blog Your Kid's Not Going Pro? But like my blog title, I mean these life lessons to be a source of freedom.

One of my major influences is the Biblical book of Eccelesiastes, which comes right out of the gate with the message that life is meaningless. The general interpretation is that our recognition of God's intervention is the only meaningful part of life. But if you want to be less religious about it, you can take the message that your struggles aren't new, that the things you think matter the most usually don't, and that thinking outside of yourself is a way to reconcile the lack of control you really have over your life. To me, anyway, it's a rather freeing message. I can't say I live a conflict-free or 100 percent happy life as a result of this way of thinking, but it helps me keep a little perspective.

I'm not sure how you would translate these life lessons to children in sports without thoroughly bumming them out. Maybe it's a simple message: try to be the best at what you do, try to enjoy your task, and hopefully, things go the way you want. Of course, that message is usually boiled down into simpler terms: Have fun.
