I grew up in Ohio, watching TV shows like Little House on the Prairie and Eight Is Enough.
And so, even after all these years living on the mean streets of Chicago, I’m still inclined to attribute unhappy facts of life to misunderstandings and unintended consequences—rather than stark-raving naked power grabs and purely greedy money plays.
I think this is a good quality of mine, that often gets me hurt, or embarrassed.
To wit: As I’ve contemplated the put-your-hand-on-a-hot-stove-and-think-it’s-a-flower-crazy world of youth sports for the purposes of writing and discussing my new book Soccer Dad, I’ve been inclined to explain the situation as a kind of blameless accident: Lotta ex-athletes want to stay close to the scene of their sports dreams, and must sustain themselves by coaching. That need dovetails with enough parents so ambitious for their athlete kids that they’ll pay more money than they should for full-time coaches, and all the games and leagues and travel required to justify the arrangement.
In short, lots of well-meaning grown-ups inadvertently making a mess of things. A Winchester Mystery House kind of story.
It’s good for my soul to think this way. What’s more, it allows me to hope that, if all these nice folks just came to their senses, we could somehow find our way back to knothole baseball, and live happily ever after.
But then, last Friday evening, still checking LinkedIn in the sick reflexive twitching of a dead animal, I ran across this post:

Daniel “Nothing Is Ever” Renouf goes on to write,
My dad was an electrician for the City of Toronto.
My mom ran a small daycare out of our house.
They weren’t wealthy buy any means.
But they made it work.
Early morning practices.
Travel tournaments every weekend.
Equipment that needed replacing every year.
Gas money.
Hotel rooms.
Entry fees.
None of it was cheap.
But they never hesitated.
They treated it like necessary spending.
Because to them, it was.
And it paid off.
That investment landed me in the NHL.
It’s why I’m still playing pro hockey today.
I owe everything to what they sacrificed for me.
So when I look at youth sports as an investment…
I’m not looking at a spreadsheet.
I’m looking at millions of families doing exactly what mine did.
Betting on their kid.
Treating it like it’s non-negotiable.
Showing up year over year.
That’s not casual spending.
That’s conviction.
And conviction is defensible.
If you’re looking at alternative investments…
Youth sports is hiding in plain sight.
If you’re interested in youth sports as an asset class, shoot me a DM.
Happy to share what I’ve been learning!
The downside of my soft Midwestern heart is that it’s easily bruised. And when it gets bruised, I get mad.
Finding only enthusiastic comments and reposts in response to Renouf—”when discretionary spend behaves like essential spend, that’s where durable businesses get built”—and not having yet ascertained that Renouf has been a fairly marginal NHL player and is currently playing on a one-year contract with a team in Germany, I wrote:
Your parents bet on you. They won. So it follows that “millions” of parents should be organizing their whole lives around preposterously elaborate sports schedules and betting their family vacations on their kids, only the tiniest percentage of whom will pay back that investment?
Clearly, you’re trying to appeal here to investors who need foolproof asset classes. Crypto, online gambling … family dreams. (You must be seeking capital. Did you not make enough on the bet your parents won?)
But do you think what youth sports and families need is more cold-eyed investors drooling over parents’ ever-increasing spending on youth sports as something to get rich on?
Some people say the quiet part out loud. You’ve said the shameful part, real proud.
The only commenter who agreed with me was Linda Flanagan, who wrote the currently definitive critique of youth sports foolishness called Take Back the Game: How Money and Mania Are Ruining Kids’ Sports—and Why It Matters.

Wrote Flanagan (who has endorsed Soccer Dad, BTW):
Incidentally, 79% of parents think youth sports cost too much, and 25% draw from their savings to pay for their children’s games, according the NY Life Wealth Watch Survey from last year. 80% want less travel, 72% want fewer games, 73% say youth sports have lost sight of their greater purpose, this from the Aspen Institute’s 2025 Project Play survey. Of course parents can and should make sacrifices for their children. But let’s not pretend this is all working out great. Oh, almost forgot: our system has created an epidemic of overuse injuries among players.
And five days after this Friday night fusillade from two youth sports parenting writers? Not a word of response, from Renouf, or any of his sanguine supporters, whose silence only repeats the message that Renouf’s post communicated in the first place: We don’t give a shit about kids, or parents. We want their money.
And the scales fall, once more, from my ever-innocent Ohio eyes.




