“Hey everyone! We’re pulling our 8-year-old out of school so he can fly to ATL for the It Is Too Hot In Here Tourney! All the top 3rd-grade ranking services will be there!”
Awesome.
Amazing.
Please hold my drink while I projectile vomit across the gym.
Because if there’s one trend that has youth basketball spiraling into pure, uncut insanity, it’s exactly this stuff.
The events.
The manipulation.
The adults who need the spotlight more than the kids.
The money vortex.
The parents yelling at refs like the Final Four is on the line.
And for what?
Bad basketball and fake “national” clout for kids who still need reminders to tie their shoes.
These “top teams in the nation” aren’t even teams. They’re a collection of talented kids thrown together with a car-salesman-slash-“coach” who’s filming everything for his content page. Zones and full-court presses dominate age levels where they shouldn’t even be allowed. And God forbid we see an assist, a cut, or any kind of off-ball action.
About 5–6 years ago, I honestly thought this whole space would eventually die out as smarter people realized there were far better ways to spend their time and money. But here we are. And what bothers me most is the messaging these events and adults are sending to kids (and parents).
Just Think About It for a Minute…
Teaching kids that missing school is fine because they might get ranked as 3rd graders.
Feeding into entitlement, social-media trolling, and backwards priorities.
Making parents think an elementary-school ranking somehow improves their kid’s future recruiting chances.
Maybe… they should just go to school. This is the biggest lie in youth basketball right now.
Traveling to bad basketball games, spending half the weekend in a hotel lobby while kids run around annoying every guest and employee in the building.
And the money… my God, the money.
You could easily invest that same money into real training, real coaching, and real programs at home without any of the chaos.
“But Coach, They Make Memories…”
Listen — I get the appeal. A team trip with parents and players can be a good time when the group is close. I’m not anti-fun.
But that should be a once or twice a year thing, in the summer, and only after the kids have actually played together for multiple seasons.
Most of these “national” teams?
They change rosters every year.
Some change rosters every month.
So pardon me if I don’t buy the “lifelong memories” pitch.
The Most Important Takeaway
Quadruple-check the adult pushing you into this circus.
They come in all shapes and sizes.
Some look like they haven’t changed clothes in a month.
Some look clean and polished and can talk you into anything.
Before you trust someone with your kid, your money, and your family’s schedule, ask:
What is your basketball résumé?
Do you have any real coaching experience? (You know what I mean.)
How many kids have you actually guided through this process before?
Most people who’ve done this once — coach or parent — never do it again.
If it’s their first rodeo, run.
What will the total season cost?
The “no team fee” line is a lie — travel can easily hit $10,000+ a year for families going on multiple trips.
Imagine putting that money toward training, skill work, sports performance, and things that actually matter.
Do we practice?
Kids learn and improve in practice. Period.
Will the roster change every tournament?
If you’re picking up the best local kid everywhere you travel, what does that mean for your kid’s minutes, role, and actual development?
That’s the definition of a team I never want my kid playing on.
In Closing
There’s a lot of bad basketball and a lot of questionable characters hiding behind the words “national” and “exposure.” As both a parent and a coach, the most important thing you can do when your kids are young is to trust the person leading the program — not the marketing words plastered on a flyer.
If an adult has to use terms like national, exposure, rankings, or elite to sell you on something for 9-year-olds… that’s your sign to look somewhere else.
The early years should be about:
Do those things, and you won’t end up emailing a teacher explaining why your 8-year-old is missing school for a national basketball event.
