Ten years ago, I was the mom making fun of select sports parents. I thought they were crazy. Nuts. Over-spenders. People who didn’t understand priorities, or budgeting, for that matter. Then I became one of them.
It didn’t happen overnight, but gradually. My then-7-year-old son was asked to try out for a team. At the time, it seemed more competitive than the rec league he had been playing in, but not overly so. Practice times doubled. Costs also doubled. The following year, it happened again, and they doubled again. And now, I’m a mom of 5, with an 11-year-old who is obsessed with his select baseball team. Well, career. It’s called a career, he’s told me.
And that would be fine, but it’s the unexpected costs that really caught me off guard. Over time, I got used to the idea that team fees would pass the three-figure mark. I was okay with that, because I saw the joy it brought him and realized that he’s a young athlete who is more naturally competitive than rec teams typically allow for.
What I didn’t anticipate were the extra costs. Here’s how much it really costs to be a select sports family. And as select sports families might note, this isn’t even for the most competitive, select travel teams in our area.
The real cost of select sports for our family
Growing up as a competitive gymnast, I look back and realize what it really meant for my single mom to shell out $90 for a competition leotard — and that was 25 years ago. Now, I see just how those extras add up and can tank a budget unexpectedly, one little overpriced concession stand hot dog at a time.
If I sit and add up the cost of the sport, which I do periodically, I find that it’s a lot, even if I’m focusing on the more conservative end of our expenses. Here’s how last season played out for us:
- Concession stand spending: $40 per game, estimated at $2,000 for last season. Our family of seven attends 40 to 60 games a season. Yes, we could pack our own food, but here we are, imperfect and flawed parents, just trying to find a uniform 10 minutes before warm-up.
- Gas: at least $700 per season. Our local practice field is over 20 minutes away so we do our fair share of driving for the sport. We also have tournaments in cities that are hours away, our furthest was about a 5-hour drive. In a season, this accounts for 10 to 12 tanks of gas, which of course varies with the price we pay at the pump. If we drive our large Sprinter van with the whole family tagging along, it’s even more.
Courtesy of Alexandra Frost.
- Gear: around $1,250 last season. I consider myself a slightly scrappy shopper, having grown up on garage sale gear. So as an adult, I try to walk the line of buying new items, such as baseball gloves and pants (used pants at this age are often very worn), cold gear for chilly practices, hats, gloves, catcher gear (used on eBay), cleats, socks, and more. Then, there’s gear from the actual team, such as belts and casual wear like hoodies and shorts. None of this includes the overpriced composite bats, which range from $200 to $500 apiece and come with the promise of “hitting bombs.” Sure, we don’t buy everything new every season, but looking back over my credit card bills reveals this past season was a pricey one.
- Private lessons: $300 a month for six months. As anyone with a semi-serious athlete knows, regular practice never seems to be enough. When my son became a catcher, we had to, well, catch up and learn catching. When he hit a mental block with hitting, his private lesson teacher scheduled extra sessions.
- Babysitting: $600 last season. When a game starts at 8 p.m. and ends after 10, parents with little kids need other options. Sometimes, we have our local babysitter chip in and help the other kids maintain a more normal schedule, including bedtimes. This can add up, but sometimes it’s just nice to watch your older kid play without toddlers climbing on you with sticky hands. We pay our sitter $25 an hour and used them several times last season.
Courtesy of Alexandra Frost.
- Parent gear: $400 last season. Parents are the fan club, and they need to look the part. Even if each parent buys just an item or two from the team pro shop, it adds up. I might have also grabbed the super-cute Bauble Bar Perfect Catch Earring Set this year, along with team-colored HOKA sneakers for lugging gear around the city and getting some steps in during warmups. Finally, with so many kids, we invested in a double-decker wagon that hauls kids, chairs, drinks, snacks, and diaper bags from game to game.
- Hotel stays: $1,200 for four nights away. I know this is lower than many teams with a heavier travel schedule, but our cost is higher because we need a suite or two rooms for our large family. Teams often require these stays, and hanging out in the hotel pool is a big part of the kids’ memory-making that can’t be skipped.
- Registration fees: $900 per season. There are options to fundraise for parts of this, but I very rarely feel good about asking others to pay for my son’s sports. I know it works for some people, but for me, going to the same people over and over to chip in feels off (aside from the grandparents who are always down to buy a coupon book).
The total isn’t the point
When I say I really don’t want to add this list up, I mean it. But for the sake of other parents who feel stressed about so much of their family budget going to sports, or those who need a real look at what it entails, I will.
Before I do, though, I have to acknowledge what all these extras mean for my son. The movement outside instead of getting addicted to screens: priceless. The self-esteem and confidence gained by overcoming stress in a high-pressure game: priceless. The camaraderie and friendships on a team: priceless. The bonding experience of watching the sunset with toddlers screaming their brother’s name and number: priceless.
The grand total for the past season landed around $8,850, give or take a bag of popcorn or four. I’m off now to get a second job.
Spring signups are happening soon. I’ll do what I can to save, and hope my son doesn’t need a new bat, but I know I’ll gladly be paying close to this again for yet another season. After all, the popcorn is decent, and my son’s joy is contagious.
