I raised 5 kids and refused to spend thousands on youth sports. I don’t regret it.

My oldest son tells a story about walking past the local sporting goods store every morning on his way to school and eyeing an ice hockey uniform he was eager to wear.

The small town in Massachusetts where I raised my children was hockey central for the eastern region of the Commonwealth.

Many of his friends first hit the ice at 3, learning to navigate the slippery surface by pushing plastic milk crates around the frozen field.

It’s an extremely expensive sport that requires a commitment from the whole family.

With practices often scheduled for 5 a.m. and games as far away as Maine, there was no way I could support his dreams while also fulfilling his four siblings’ dreams.

I have no regrets for saying “no” to youth sports.

Hockey was not the only game in town.

Football, soccer, baseball, and basketball were all among the competitive sports offered to kids in our community.

I signed the boys up for T-ball and the free Saturday morning instructional basketball program.

I registered my daughter for gymnastics.

All I wanted was for them to have fun with their friends and get a little exercise.

Their interests ebbed and waned from season to season, but they enjoyed competing with and against their buddies.

My third son is the only one of my boys to show any real athletic ability.

At 10 years old, when he qualified to play A Division Little League, he was a top draft pick.

His team won the championship that year, and it was a thrill to cheer them on to victory.

When he found out there was an instructional, non-competitive hockey league in town, he asked to join.

We borrowed a uniform and protective gear from his best friend, and trudged to the rink three afternoons a week from November to March.

We were both tired of the long, grueling sessions in the freezing cold.

We returned the equipment and never looked back, In middle school, he found lacrosse, which he defined as ice hockey on grass.

He played on his school team through his senior year.

Looking back, he regrets not playing baseball in high school.

He thought he was probably better at baseball than lacrosse, but lacrosse attracted the girls.

The players cultivated a hairstyle known as the flow, just a tuft of hair that peaked out of the back of their helmets, that seemed to be the main attraction for their groupies.

My two youngest children attended a startup school beginning in middle school.

Because enrollment was low during those early years, every student was required to participate in at least one competitive sport on a no-cut team.

My son, following in his brother’s footsteps, picked lacrosse.

I think I enjoyed the games more than they did because I could sit in the stands and chat with the other parents.

That’s why I missed the flagrant foul hit by an aggressive competitor that resulted in my son getting a concussion.

It wasn’t severe, but it did keep him in a dark room and out of school for a week.

When he transferred schools for his senior year, he declined to play a sport.

He’d already fulfilled that requirement for graduation and just didn’t have the interest in spending time on a field any longer.

In college, he toyed with the idea of playing intramural lacrosse, but other interests intervened, and he never picked up a stick again.

I’m glad I only spent the minimum on sports for my kids.

Today they prefer watching games from the sidelines or on TV a lot more than they ever did on the field.