A little story about sideline behavior and how I learned to chill the hell out.
First year of DD's club was u11 bronze. We were total club soccer newbies, but so were all of the parents on the team save one. Those of us who were new lived and died with the on field exploits of our little soccer girls. It was fun. We socialized with the parents, we commiserated over how we got ripped off by that ref, how we dominated the game but lost, how the other team were clearly loaded with older kids with fake birth certificates, etc. etc. But I kept noticing how that one family stayed over to the side. They never engaged in these discussions. They were very nice, but they just set up at the back corner of the field and stayed quiet. They didn't really cheer when we scored. Not even when their kid was the one scoring. They never yelled at the refs when he missed a call. Even when it was their kid who got decked by a reckless play. They didn't engage in gossip about who was moving to what team. They didn't get upset by losses. They smiled and clapped when we won, but that was about it. One day I asked the dad about his other kids. Turned out that he had a son playing Div 2 soccer on scholarship. His oldest daughter had just committed to St. John's. His middle daughter was on her 3rd club and his youngest (on our team) was on her 2nd club. But they downplayed their kids' on field accomplishments. They lit up when I asked them about college and what the kids were studying. About what they wanted to do after college. I realized then that these folks had seen and been through it all. And they knew the score...they had their priorities straight. And even when they traveled back east to see their kids play in college, I'm sure they were still as cool as the other side of the pillow.
It's like this...Have you ever seen the clip of (then coach) Larry Bird's reaction to Reggie Miller hitting the game winning shot for him with .7 seconds on the clock against the Bulls in the playoffs? Cold. Stone cold. He barely blinks. He's like, "Been there. Done that."
I realized then that I had to see the bigger picture. What was happening in those ulittles bronze and then silver and then silver elite, and then Flight 1 games didn't mean jack. The bad calls. The rough fouls. The goals scored. The games won or lost. It was the big picture of investing in my child's development that mattered, in life lessons, and in being her parent, her mentor, her guide. Not living vicariously through her. Not re-living my own athletic childhood dreams. It all seemed a lot less dramatic after that realization.