The Wall Street Journal - 23.08.2019

A12| Friday, August 23, 2019 THE WALL STREET JOURNAL.

Jay-Z Caught

In Kaepernick

Buzzsaw

The star rapper was surprised by the sharp

criticism of his social-justice pact with the NFL

Above, NFL commissioner Roger

Goodell and Jay-Z appear at a news

conference. Left, Dolphins receiver

Kenny Stills was critical of the deal.

equipment—the price keeps going

up, driving away kids from families

that can’t afford the bill. The result

is something of a paradox: A “com-

petitive” environment which be-

comes deeply exclusive, since only

a fraction of the population has the

means to compete.

“Parents who can afford to do so

[are investing] more heavily in

their child at an earlier age,” says

Tom Farrey, the founder and exec-

utive director of the Aspen Insti-

tute’s Sports & Society program.

“When you do that, you begin to

push aside the families who can’t

afford the youth sports arms race.

You [also] end up heaping enor-

mous amounts of pressure on the

bodies and the minds of the chil-

dren who are still in the game.”

Farrey compares it to “an exer-

cise in anti-trust, in which access

to competition is shaped by un-

earned advantage.”

There have always been hyper-

competitive youth leagues, of

course, and adults who don’t know

how to relax. But Farrey, who

wrote a 2009 book called “Game

On: How the Pressure to Win at All

Costs Endangers Youth Sports, and

What Parents Can Do About It,”

believes the growth of athletic

scholarship opportunities—and the

rising costs of college—ratcheted

up the stakes.

“[Parents] know how expensive

college is, and they start to think

to themselves, ‘Huh, if I get him on

the right travel team, hire the pri-

vate trainers, buy him the $

graphite bat, maybe my kid can get

a college athletic scholarship,’ ” he

says. “Or, increasingly, with

wealthier families, preferential ad-

mission.”

(When the college-admissions

scandal broke—with stories of stu-

dent heads photoshopped atop

other bodies of student-athletes—

Farrey wasn’t the least bit sur-

prised. “There’s a reason this be-

havior happens.”)

The solution, Farrey thinks, is

turning down the volume. Play the

games, but cool the win-at-all-costs

More kids are bailing early on organized sports—undone by the pressures, financial hurdles, or injuries.

ROBYN BECK/AGENCE FRANCE-PRESSE/GETTY IMAGES

competitiveness. Prioritize inclu-

sion and free play—those moments

when young athletes can take con-

trol of practice. Don’t make kids

specialize on one sport, a recipe

for burnout and repetitive stress

injuries. Let them play everything.

“The game-changers in all of

this are parents,” says Farrey.

“They think they understand what

athletic development looks like,

but they don’t really know. They

don’t know about the value of free

play in developing creativity. They

don’t fully appreciate the value of

playing multiple sports...as a way

of developing skills that are going

to make you better in a different

sport.”

Asked for positive signs, Farrey

points to renewed interest in “in-

town” recreational sports. For

years, travel teams have been gut-

ting smaller rec-league programs,

which tend to be more welcoming

and less stressful.

Major League Baseball teams

have taken notice, investing in re-

lationships with town leagues, not

as a place to scout talent—but

build future fans. Twenty-five MLB

teams now sponsor low-cost, in-

town leagues, Farrey says.

“It’s not an act of altruism, it’s

an act of enlightened self-interest,”

hesays.“Theyseeitasabrand

builder. You can get a lot of kids

wearing your logo and developing

an affinity for your team.”

Who benefits ultimately? Every-

one. That’s the urgency here.

There’s abundant evidence that a

healthy youth sports environment

has a societal reach far beyond the

playing field.

“People want their kids playing

sports,” Farrey says. “Kids who

play sports are less likely to be

obese, more likely to stay in

school, more likely to go to college,

less likely to suffer chronic dis-

eases, and more likely to be active

as parents.”

It all seems so sensible, but it’s

clear we’re losing our way. Maybe

it’s time to implement the “mercy

rule.” Hit the ice cream truck—and

give youth sports in America a do-

over.

B

efore Jay-Z’s new role

promoting the NFL’s so-

cial-justice initiatives

became public last

week, the rap icon

placed a courtesy call to Colin

Kaepernick. The former San Fran-

cisco 49ers quarterback’s racial-in-

equality protests, after all, ignited

a firestorm three seasons ago—

and, in the eyes of most, cost

Kaepernick his career.

A day later, however, Jay-Z was

shocked that his involvement with

the league was being interpreted

by some as an affront to Kaeper-

nick, according to two people fa-

miliar with the matter. Jay-Z,

these people said, thought his

move to use the country’s most

popular sports league as a plat-

form for an important cause would

be well-received.

Instead, he was under attack.

Eric Reid—the Carolina Panthers

safety who has been Kaepernick’s

closest ally—called Jay-Z a “sell-

out,” alleging that the rapper had

provided cover for the league to

hide behind. Miami Dolphins wide

receiver Kenny Stills said: “I feel

like Jay-Z really discredited Colin

and myself and the work that’s be-

ing done in our communities.”

Jay-Z’s bid to lend his credibil-

ity to the NFL had unknowingly

waded into an internal firefight

that has been raging among play-

ers for several years over how the

league should address topics such

as racial inequality and police bru-

tality.

On one side is the Players Coali-

tion, a group of players that has

worked on various initiatives and

helped pass criminal justice bills in

states like Louisiana and Michigan,

which has been willing to work in

association with the NFL to boost

their social justice efforts.

On the other is a more strident

group that has chafed at doing

business with the league while

Kaepernick remains unsigned. This

group views the league’s effort—

including the deal with Jay-Z—as a

public-relations stunt meant to pa-

per over a problematic approach.

The critical reaction to Jay-Z’s

role was intensified by the fact

that his NFL deal wasn’t just about

social justice. Another part of the

arrangement involves giving the

rapper’s company, Roc Nation, cre-

ative control of some NFL enter-

tainment properties, including the

Super Bowl halftime show.

And Jay-Z’s own comments

about Kaepernick prompted some

to accuse him of adopting the

league’s rhetoric about the player

demonstrations during the na-

tional anthem. When the arrange-

ment was announced last week he

said that “we can get stuck on Co-

lin not having a job.” He added

that the league has “moved past

kneeling” and that it’s “time to go

into actionable items.”

“I’m into real work,” he said.

Both sides of the divide want to

use their status as NFL stars to

promote social justice change. But

they have feuded, at times pub-

licly, over the best way to achieve

that.

Beginning in 2016, when Kaep-

ernick began protesting social in-

justices and racial inequalities by

kneeling during the national an-

them, the league has been rattled

by these issues. By 2017, the con-

troversy was inflamed further

when President Trump persistently

assailed the protests as unpatriotic

and the NFL for allowing them to

continue.

The league, which was dealing

with its own internal disputes

among ownership amid sagging

ratings, was eager to quell the

strife. So it began a conversation

between owners and players aimed

at addressing the issues underpin-

ning the protest movement.

Those negotiations produced a

partnership with the NFL to back

the players’ causes. It also created

this fissure among the players who

shared a common cause but dis-

agreed on the process.

In those discussions, the players

were represented by the Players

Coalition, a group founded by Phil-

adelphia Eagles safety Malcolm

Jenkins and now-retired wide re-

ceiver Anquan Boldin to make an

impact on social justice and racial

equality. They secured the backing

of the league, with the potential

for tens of millions of dollars of

funding to advance those causes

and an agreement that players

would match owners’ contribu-

tions, up to a certain amount, on

the local level. Jenkins, who had

been raising his fist during the na-

tional anthem, ceased doing so in

the wake of the agreement.

But not all players were enam-

ored with the deal. Some, such as

Reid, backed out of the Players Co-

alition and said publicly that they

didn’t feel as if the Players Coali-

tion was effectively representing

their views. They felt that their

message was being co-opted by

the league, a person familiar with

the matter said at the time, and

that the player-driven effort was

being transformed into a shield to

give cover for the NFL on these

sensitive issues. Later, Reid called

Jenkins a “neo-colonialist.”

In an interview, members of the

Players Coalition stressed their in-

dependence from the NFL and that

they had nothing to do with the

league’s partnership with Jay-Z.

They said while it may bring un-

wanted attention, it can also be a

signal from the league of their ef-

forts to amplify their causes that

have already achieved legislative

changes across the country.

Referring to the Players Coali-

tion’s pact with the league, now-

retired Seattle Seahawks wide re-

ceiver Doug Baldwin said it was

important for the NFL to have

“skin in the game because of the

PR nightmare they were going

through,” but he emphasized that

the organization is fully player led,

with causes chosen by the players.

“There were some fundamental

disagreements on the direction of

the organization,” he said of the

rift with other players.

“The fact that our name comes

up also reinforces the fact that

people know and understand that

the men in our locker rooms and

the men in the coalition care about

our communities,” said Patriots

tight end Ben Watson, a member

of the Players Coalition.

Still, tensions between the two

factions persisted into last season,

and they resurfaced again this

week when Reid called Roc Na-

tion’s partnership with the NFL

“Players Coalition 2.0.”

“He got paid to take the bullets

that he’s taking now, because

we’re not having it,” Reid said.

But this week, those same play-

ers upset with the league over how

it has handled these issues found

an unlikely ally: the Players Coali-

tion. The group pressured Stephen

Ross, the Dolphins owner, to step

down from his role on the league’s

social justice committee after Ross

hosted a fundraiser for Trump.

BYANDREWBEATON

Youth Sports Have Gotten Too Crazy

JASON GAY

FROM TOP: KEVIN MAZUR/GETTY IMAGES FOR ROC NATION; STEVE MITCHELL/REUTERS

SPORTS

The Little League

World Series is well

under way, and the

scene looks so excit-

ing—talented ball-

players; big crowds; a

warm hug of attention from Major

Leaguers and national TV.

When I was growing up, I

dreamed of playing in the Little

League World Series. Istillwant to

play in the Little League World Se-

ries. (I can’t. Those kids are so

much better than I am. I’d be a

benchwarmer at best.)

But those happy highlights from

Williamsport, Pa., obscure a widen-

ing problem with youth sports

throughout this country—in virtu-

ally every game, not just Little

League.

Youth sports in America needs a

reset.

We’ve all read the cautionary

tales about the manic world of se-

lective youth travel teams, of one-

sport specialists with helicopter

parents willing to spend thousands

of dollars in the hope a child’s tal-

ent can be converted into a college

scholarship.

At the same time, and not unre-

lated, more kids are bailing early

on organized sports—undone by

the pressures, financial hurdles, or

injuries.

The statistics are troubling. A

survey conducted by the Aspen In-

stitute and the Utah State Families

in Sports Lab found that overall

youth team sports participation in

the U.S. is in decline—just 38% of

kids are playing team sports today,

down from 45% a decade ago. The

average kid is quitting youth sports

after less than three years—at age

11.

This is getting attention from

adults in charge. If you’re watching

the Little League World Series, you

may have seen commercials on

ESPN for the Aspen Institute’s

Project Play 2020 “Don’t Retire,

Kid” initiative, in which frustrated

child athletes announce they are

quitting youth sports.

For those children whodokeep

playing, money becomes a factor.

Team fees, travel costs, coaching,