Prep Sports Are Not Their Cup of Coffee

They were hanging out at a Costa Mesa coffee house, two high school seniors sipping cafe au lait. They wore baggy clothes and tortured expressions. You could almost make out the cloud of angst above their heads.

“You guys don’t play sports, do you?”

Granted, the question was a bit abrupt, especially for a life-pondering place such as this. But I didn’t have all day. And the deal was this:

After years of listening to coaches complain about able-bodied kids who refuse to play sports, it was time to get the other side of the story. These two seemed as likely to represent the opposing view as any.

Their names, they said, were Bryan and Mike. They were seniors at a nearby high school; they declined to say which one. Although both had played some organized sports, neither wanted to be involved with them now.

“It’s too time consuming,” Bryan said. “I’ve got better things to do.”

“Yeah,” Mike said. “It’s a waste of time.”

Before you toss this column in the shredder, sports fans, know that these boys have nothing against sports, per se. They just don’t like the goings-on surrounding organized athletics--the politics, the egotism, the favoritism, etc. Sports was fun when they were kids, they said. But in high school, it seems to be more of a popularity contest.

It’s not as if they’re unsuited for sports, either. Mike, lean and sinewy, has a wrestler’s build. Bryan looks as if he might be a running back. He grew up in Texas, where high school football is nothing if not fanatical. He played for two years in Texas, then he and his family ran the out pattern to Orange County.

The pressure to compete diminished, Bryan says, but not entirely. The athletes around his school, especially the football players, treat non-athletes like outcasts, he says. Not that he, Mike or their other non-athlete friends care. Mike says the football coach teaches his physical education class. The football coach, Mike says, rarely says a word to him.

“Because I don’t play football,” Mike says.

At this point, many coaches are probably scoffing--perhaps swearing--at these kids and their views. It’s the same when an athlete quits a team. He (or she) wasn’t good for anything anyway, the coach will say. We’ll be better off without him. He was a troublemaker. Blah, blah, blah.

It’s almost amusing. A coach woos Joe Potential, hoping to get him on his team. Joe says no. Coach asks why. Joe gives him a reason. Coach doesn’t like the reason. Joe is bad-mouthed for all eternity.

Is this coach suffering from a rejection complex? Or are those polyester shorts cutting off circulation to the brain?

Certainly, coaches are being squeezed enough these days by budget cuts and increased responsibilities. And with decreasing enrollment in many areas, some coaches need every able-bodied boy or girl they can get to ensure the program’s stability. But is it right to gripe about kids who don’t want to compete, whether or not you agree with the reason?

An athlete says he’d rather work than play sports. If it’s to support his family, that’s deemed as OK. But if it’s to buy a car? He’s suddenly the most materialistic kid on earth. What difference does it make whether he wants to play sports or stay home and bake souffles? Isn’t it his choice?

Most comical, though, has to be the complaint about surfers and surfing. As if this is something you need an excuse for. Surfing in Orange County? How unnatural. Paddling out at dawn? How deviant. Feeling the ocean spray on your face, the sun on your back? Hard to imagine why anyone would choose surfing over football.

Or surfing over the surf team.

Sky Winings is a purist, a surfer’s surfer. The San Clemente junior isn’t into contests, he’s not seeking sponsors.

“I just like to surf,” he says. “Ya know?”

Sky is a goofy-footer. He rides a thruster. He likes his waves overhead. He also has a 3.8 grade-point-average.

Sky says he quit the football team after his freshman year. He has turned down requests to try out for wrestling. He doesn’t want a spot on the high school surf team. He’s quick to tell you why.

“I go to school to be good in school, not to play sports,” he says. “And I surf because I like to surf.”

And Bryan and Mike hang out and drink coffee because they like to hang out and drink coffee.

“It’s not like we have to have a reason,” Mike says.

No reason necessary.