TimmyDaddy: Everyone gets a trophy!

By Tim Sullivan

My buddy Schulzie and I have had a long-running snark about how kids get trophies for everything these days. Elliott is 7 and already has a gaggle of trophies, one from every team sport he has participated in and, already, he could care less about them. They are scattered around the house propping up books, holding Legos and occasionally dating Barbie dolls when Margo gets a hold of them.

When we were kids, winning a trophy usually required something pretty spectacular so of course the want for one was tenfold. The largest trophy I ever won was for a league-wide foul shooting contest in the seventh grade. My brother Steve had placed in the tournament several years prior, so I knew what was at stake. There were many kids to beat, but man did I ever want that big honking trophy.

Maybe it was because it was a Catholic school league but back then, the free throw was more sacred. I modeled my routine after Chris Mullin, the legendary St. John’s University and NBA player. It was a slow five dribbles while blocking out all of the world but the front of that rim. Then a soft flip to get the laces right, and just enough of a pause to make sure the hushed gymnasium swelled with anticipation. The drama was as thick as the shorts were short.

I placed second in the contest behind a kid named Rizzo, but he was some sort of foul shooting savant, so I was still pretty proud. And the trophy may have surpassed the achievement itself. In terms of raw materials I can envision a ridiculous Restoration Hardware write-up: Reclaimed mahogany, marble and steel harvested from a grammar school basketball trophy circa 1985, adorn this chic table lamp…$850.00. I sauntered around the gymnasium for a while carrying this beast of an award so as to be noticed by as many people as possible.

Like many kids, I had wall of trophies on my bedroom wall. It was like a shrine, and I draped a white cloth over the shelving and experimented with accent lighting. Okay, that might have been a little over the top, but somewhere along the line, kids who could barely walk and chew gum at the same time sported trophy collections that would rival Michael Jordan’s. Only they didn’t care. I’m not sure who to sue for the devaluation.

I coached Elliott’s 7-8 year old basketball team this winter and our record was 1-8. Trophies supplied by the league were to be distributed after the last game (or basically whenever we felt like it). Early in the season, we had more tears than points and there were occasions where pleading was needed just to field five on the court. I’d called out “hands up!” so much from the sideline because coaching simple motor skills was more effective than the 3-2 zone I failed at implementing. Offensively, trips down court where a shot was attempted were celebrated as minor victories.

But each Wednesday at practice I would see little sequences that looked like actual basketball and each Saturday we suited up for the games and gave it our best. We really did improve quite a bit. In the final game, we almost beat an undefeated team, but we celebrated as if we did in fact, win. I was prouder than on the day I won that giant trophy in seventh grade.

I was still determined not to just hand out “participation” trophies, though, so at the team party I made up a category for each of them – Best Passer, Best Defender, Most Improved, Mr. Potential, etc. – and toasted their achievements. I really enjoyed coaching these kids so handing out the trophies was thoroughly enjoyable. And I’m sure you all knew this already but it finally occurred to me that the reason everyone gets a trophy nowadays is not for the kids, it is for the adults.

Tim Sullivan grew up in a large family in the Northeast and now lives with his small family in Oakhurst. He can be reached at tim@sullivanfinerugs.com.