The Mad, Mad World of Niche Sports Among Ivy League–Obsessed Parents
theatlantic.com
theatlantic.com
I have met numerous parents over the years who got their kids into fencing because it would look good for college. There is a stereotype of the SAT prep book next to a fencing bag.
Most of these kids quit fencing as soon as they start college. A few stick with the university team, but quit as soon as they graduate. It is rare to find someone who continues fencing at the age of 22 and isn't trying to make the Olympic team. (Which is ironic because fencing is an individual sport that can be done the rest of someone's life.)
Like the article states, there are very few fencing spots available, primarily because there are very few universities that are serious about it. Anytime a parent asks me what the chances are their kid gets a scholarship, I always ask, "What's your kid's world ranking?" From plenty of first-hand observation: if a kid isn't in the top 100 of the world, that kid isn't going to be recruited. (A walk-on spot will still be available for people who want to fence, but forget about getting a phone call from a coach.)
Editor’s Note: After The Atlantic published this article, new information emerged that has raised serious concerns about its accuracy, and about the credibility of the author, Ruth Shalit Barrett.
We have established that Barrett deceived The Atlantic and its readers about a section of the story that concerns a person referred to as “Sloane.” We are sharing with our readers what we have learned so far.
Are these parents pushing their kids this hard because:
1. Their kids aren't academically talented enough to make it into these schools otherwise?
2. Being in a rich zip code means that there is severe bias against these kids?
3. Entrance requirements have really just gotten this extreme?
or
4. These parents are misguided and somehow locked into the sports = success mentality?
The real money quote seems to be this:
> “It’s easy to stereotype the Fairfield County player,” says Lars Tiffany, the men’s varsity-lacrosse coach at the University of Virginia. “The Fairfield County player is the rich kid who still has his umbilical cord connected: the kid who doesn’t really have to take ownership of his mistakes or actions.”
> He elaborates: “Do I hold the Fairfield County lacrosse player to a higher standard? Of course. You just know he’s been coached up. [...] Maybe I’ll take a player from Northern California or Texas. Someone who hasn’t been exposed to such elite coaching. Someone whose best lacrosse could be ahead of him.
From his experience, given two students with similar academics and similar athletic performances, he'd rather pick the one whose life hasn't revolved around lacrosse for the past decade: they're a more realized person, and they may have a higher athletic ceiling that they can be coached to reach.
There's a bit of hubris in that too. The coaches are just that confident in their training and coaching that they are willing to take less experienced players over more experienced, but injured, ones.
I didn't read it that way, but that's an interesting take too. Ties into the end of the article that describes the crushing physicality of rowing.
I'm not sure I'd ascribe hubris, though: elite level sports is marginal gains theory taken to the extremes. If a coach evaluates two players as "similarly talented as of today" but one player has years of access to elite coaches whereas the other has only played recreationally or in minor regional tournaments, you couldn't look past the potential of the latter. Find enough diamonds in the rough and you'll be rich.
And if the reality is that it's not about diamonds in the rough but actually about finding uninjured players, well – that's possibly a sensible optimization to make too.