I scored a major victory for fatherhood on Monday, and until today no one, including my wife, knew anything about it.
We have an unspoken rule in our house with regards to our kids and sports.
Maybe it was just an unspoken rule for me and Holly has no clue, but the rule is that we won’t force our kids into sports.
We’ll support them if they choose to participate, but we’re not going to be those parents who drive their kids so hard they end up hating sports.
So, on Monday, when my son Patrick asked if he could be in soccer, I rejoiced.
With two girls older than his five years, I had expected the question to come a lot sooner and yet it hadn’t.
I responded that we could definitely look into getting him involved in soccer and that I was excited by his desire to start playing.
Well, the question and answer session seemed to open the floodgates because on Tuesday I got another question.
“Hey Dad,” my son said, “I want to be in karate and Rebekah wants to be in kung fu.”
Rebekah immediately chimed in with a question as to which was better of the two.
Patrick replied with, “Kung fu is better, it has more punching.”
I didn’t have the heart to pop his ideal of which was better and why, so I just told them that they both had punching and they probably wouldn’t be doing either of them right away.
Now that my child has expressed interest in playing a sport, I can become the other sort of parent — the one who goes crazy trying to make their kid the best they can be by taking them to out-of-state camps and getting them one-on-one sessions with really famous coaches and players.
I’ll only buy him the best shoes, socks, shorts, shin-guards and headbands money can buy.
Why not? He is bound to be the next Pelé, Ronaldo, or Landon Donovan isn’t he.
Look out world, here comes Patrick ... and his fanatical, crazy father.