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An Early Father’s Day Gift

Posted on: February 13, 2007

By Kim Ward

My weekends are a continuous barrage of one basketball game after another. Having several children involved makes it an all week event. Between the practices and the games there is little time for much of anything else. But when it comes to children, parents will do almost anything it takes to ensure a happy childhood. Unfortunately, this doesn’t include a happy parenthood.

When I was young, I also subjected my parents to countless numbers of Saturdays spent watching a bunch of elementary aged boy’s battle it out on the court. After an hour on the court the score could be as high as 2-0 (we accidentally scored for the other team). My team rarely won a game. It was painfully obvious no one on the team aspired to the NBA due to lack of skill. It wasn’t until much later my parents were privy to a team win where I actually scored some points for my own team. At the time, they seemed overtly happy. It wasn’t until this past weekend that I understood why.

Now that I am the parent, I am resigned to the fact that my children will be late bloomers. As for now they are the member of the team no one wants to pass too. While this is painful for my kids and even more painful to watch, I am willing to suffer through it to show my support. Attempts to ease the pain of being one of the least talented on the team seem to fall on deaf ears when I say, “Just try to have fun.”

This past Saturday seemed no different than any other Saturday. I sat and watched quietly as my daughter ran back and forth on the court. She rarely touched the ball. I could see the frustration on her face. I bowed my head and offered up a small prayer to have the strength required to watch someone you love feel bad and be completely unable to do anything. I thought that maybe I should be one of those psychotic parents who yelled at their kid the entire time they were playing. I then resolved to attempt to kick myself for having such a stupid idea.

At that moment something began to happen. As I looked up from my prayer, my daughter got a rebound. I thought, “Well at least she gets to touch the ball.” She began to dribble down court. I thought, “Well at least she gets to dribble the ball.” She dribbled to the foul line and throws it up. I thought, “Wow, at least she got to shoot the ball.” Time came to a screeching halt, the kind of stop airbags were designed for. The ball bounced around the rim four times. My heart stopped and my eyes blurred as the ball fell into the net. I thought, “THANK YOU GOD!!!!” I blacked out. The rest of the game was a blur. All I can remember is the smile on my daughter’s face for the rest of the weekend.

Another child also had a great game. Her team came back from a 16-4 deficit to tie the game in the last quarter. It was another heart stopper. They barely lost the game against a superior team. They were awesome. I realized, I probably behaved like a complete idiot. It occurred to me that I was behaving exactly like my parents did over twenty years ago.

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