Three years ago, when my son Max, who was just six at the time, expressed his desire to play soccer, I was taken aback. I knew this moment would arrive eventually, especially since all his friends were involved in various sports, often alongside their fathers. I, however, had always felt like an outsider. Unlike many dads, sports have never really captured my interest. There are several reasons for this: my hand-eye coordination isn’t great, I’m not particularly tall or fast, and, most importantly, my father wasn’t around when I was growing up.
At school, I often listened to my classmates talk about the bonding moments they shared with their dads over sports, and I felt a deep sense of exclusion. For me, sports were a constant reminder of what I missed — a father figure to play catch with. I recognize how important sports are to many men, but my lack of interest has often made it difficult to form friendships with them. This is particularly challenging since I work within a Division I athletics program, where sports are central to the culture.
So, when Max asked to play soccer, I knew I had to set aside my feelings. I wanted to ensure he didn’t feel like an outsider like I often did. Many parents find themselves navigating this conflict between their own preferences and their children’s interests. Sometimes it’s something as trivial as a YouTube obsession, other times it’s an instrument that tests your patience. And sometimes, it’s as profound as confronting your past while trying to support your child.
Despite my initial hopes that Max wouldn’t enjoy soccer, I was mistaken. He loved it and wanted me to join in too. That summer, we spent countless hours on a small patch of grass by our apartment, kicking a ball around. I didn’t know much about soccer other than the fact that hands were off-limits, but thankfully, Max didn’t either.
In many ways, it felt like we were both learning how to play together. For the first time, I didn’t dwell on my absent father; my focus was entirely on Max. I made it a priority to attend all his practices and games, not only to support him but also to pick up a few skills to engage with him better.
One evening, while practicing at a nearby park, I observed Max’s kicking technique. He would stop the ball, take a couple of steps back, and then run up to kick it. I suggested he try kicking it while running toward it instead. This wasn’t based on years of soccer knowledge; it just seemed intuitive. After some practice, he finally got it, and the look on his face was priceless. In that moment, I became the father figure I had always wished for, and I could see how much it meant to him.
During his next game, he put our practice into action and scored his first goal. I felt immense pride swell within me. The first person he looked for after scoring was me, and it felt like he was saying, “We did it together!”
Now, at nine years old, Max has played multiple soccer seasons and even tried basketball. I’ve had to learn the ins and outs of dribbling and shooting. Most Sundays, you can find us in the front yard, laughing and playing basketball together. Those moments provide me with the father-son connections I longed for as a child.
Max has no idea of my past disdain for sports, and I’ve never shared that with him. I also realize that it’s only a matter of time before he surpasses me in skill. But for now, he thinks I’m the best player ever, and as I fumble through our games, I can’t help but admire him for giving me this second chance at parenthood.
In the end, embracing Max’s love for sports has not only strengthened our bond but has also helped me heal from my own childhood experiences. For those navigating similar journeys, find inspiration in connecting with your child, even if it means stepping outside your comfort zone. You can also check out this insightful post on home insemination kits for more parenting tips.
Overall, my journey with sports has transformed from avoidance to appreciation, and it’s all thanks to my son.