
In my October column I wrote about raising athletic children. Parenting is a big job and we all know that it is not easy. Certainly, it is normal for parents to take pride in their child’s success. Parents routinely make the effort for their child to succeed; money, travel, and scheduling are often involved. Occasionally, a child’s sport success becomes the primary goal of the parent; a parent’s participation goes too far and they begin to live vicariously through the success of their child. Achievement by proxy can be the result of such involvement.
In my early career I took a summer job coaching age-group swimming. The club in Mobile, Ala. was only mildly competitive but a nice place to work. We trained and I found that I had some very talented swimmers. We all had a good time. We could never beat one team because they had Logan, the best swimmer in Mobile. Logan was 12 years old, strong and slim, and just beautiful to watch. No one in his age group could touch him. But Logan had a problem — his mother. It wasn’t enough that he won every event, his achievement was never enough. She tried to get him into the university pool for her own “special” training. I wouldn’t let her.
The Gulf States Championship was at the end of the summer. Logan turned 13 right before the meet, and now had to compete in the 13-14 age group. Some of the boys were almost 15 and all were bigger and stronger. Standing on the blocks, Logan looked small. He made it to the finals but didn’t win. Parents had to wait outside the fence, and there was Logan’s mother at the gate, furious. I watched as she would grab him, slamming him repeatedly into the chain link fence, screaming in his face. I remember the indentations on his back from the fence. I remember his tears. I still regret not intervening.
This was the first time I had observed what some now call Achieve By Proxy Distortion (ABPD). It wasn’t the last time. ABPD occurs when a parent goes well beyond support and encouragement, becoming fixated on possible rewards of fame and fortune. As psychiatrist Ian Tofler said, achievement is never enough, a mountain without a top. The child is trapped. For the child, winning is the only way to the parent’s love.
A few years back, Peter Berg produced an HBO special entitled, “The State of Play.” The documentary followed four parents as they attempted to turn their children into top contenders. The parents were all wannabe athletes, insisting their special brand of coaching was required. The parents were always disappointed. The children could not match the parent’s eagerness. The parents were all abusive in their own way, continuously reminding the children to “buy into” what the parent wanted. The children had no choice; the more the parent gave up, the more the children were supposed to perform.
Todd Marinovich was the most famous high school quarterback in the country. His records lasted for decades. Starting from birth, Todd’s father planned every moment of Todd’s life: special foods, trainers, and coaches. When he went to USC to play football, away from his dad at last, he realized he knew only one thing, football. He had not experienced life outside football. The freedom of college and the pressure to succeed overwhelmed him. Drugs helped with the stress. He achieved but never lived up to expectations. He was drafted to play in the NFL but was only mildly successful. Addiction got in the way.
Todd’s father had not raised a child, he had raised a football player, but children need a childhood; they need to be kids. As we observe young children in their cute Nike jackets and Adidas shirts, they may look like professional athletes, but take away the fancy uniforms and they are just children. When I saw Logan on the fence with his mom, I didn’t see the king of the pool, I saw a scared little boy who was trapped. Parents who have ABPD have already decided what is best for the child. But children need to feel safe as they grow. They need to be able to talk to their parents without fear of recrimination.
As the money in sport continues to grow; college students can now make money, in some cases, a lot of money. I fear for the future. Will we have more Todds, more parents and coaches chasing the rainbow with their tiny professionals in tow?
Jim Johnson is a retired professor of exercise and sport science after teaching 52 years at Smith College and Washington University in St. Louis. He comments about sport, exercise, and sports medicine. He can be reached at jjohnson@smith.edu

