It’s one of those days today. The kind that’s driving me crazy and there’s not much I can do about it. I’m going crazy because I’m worrying about things I can’t control. Heck, they are things I can’t even really influence.
My oldest son has a varsity football game tonight against the #1 team in the largest school division (6A) in Kansas. Last year we beat them in a down-to-the-wire game to move on to the State championship game. This year we’re having a rougher time of it. Injuries have mounted and players are moving to new positions. Everything is in flux. In the midst of this, my son was moved from defense to offense, and as ot tonight he will make his debut at Fullback. He’s slated to start his first game at Fullback…and the defense we’re playing is tough.
Don’t get me wrong, he’s earned the spot. He works his butt off. As one of the former players tweeted, “There are normal athletes and then there’s @Superman_Psycho you work harder than anybody I know. Super proud of you bor. Tear Derby up man”. My son puts in the hours in the weight room, on the practice field and on the track. Tonight’s his opportunity to shine, and I’ll be there to cheer him on. Antacids in hand.
You see, I can’t impact the outcome of the game at all. Sure, I’ve been Mr. Motivation to him today. Made a special trip to drop off enough food to feed a small army so that he would have a “snack” throughout the day. Texts sent, hopefully just at the right time (between classes, that is) to pump him up. I even got up an hour early to make sure that my entire clan had enough food in their bellies to make sure the day went great.
Tonight I’ll be in the stands, yelling and screaming like an idiot. As is my style, I’ll take pictures from the stands until it’s too dark and my camera can’t keep up with the action. I’ll probably listen to some of the game on the radio while watching it. I’ll twinge with every hit, I’ll squirm with any mistakes, I’ll jump up and down with the successes.
But I have no real impact in the outcome. I’m not on the field. I’m not a coach. I’m not even a water boy. When the game’s over, our fans usually walk onto the field and talk to our athletes. I’m not sure if we’ll be allowed to do that tonight, we may have to talk across the fence. More and more schools are prohibiting parents from getting onto the field at any time. But we’ll stand, as close together as we can and we’ll talk about the best parts of the game. We’ll have our “moment”, where more is unsaid than said, but the message will get across. At least I hope it does. I’ll do my best to express my unconditional love and admiration for the amazing athlete that my son’s grown into.
Each week, I want to do more for all my kids. I want to help pick them up when things go badly, and I want to lift them higher when things go well. While I love sports, I also have a pretty simple approach to what I want them to learn, since sports are really a learning experience to me first and foremost. I want them to learn three things:
* Character
* Integrity
* Personal Responsibility
I want them to be better people for having participated in sports. Don’t fret, I want them to win…and I want their teams to win. If I had to choose, I would choose to win every time. But I will not celebrate a win that is achieved without those three attributes above. Not just for them, but for the team as a whole. Cheap shots by anybody on the playing field drive me crazy. Any form of poor sportsmanship shows disrespect, and that’s not what sports about to me.
So tonight the team may win. Tonight the team may lose. That’s the result that will be etched into the books, and the record that will be available for review for years to come. But in my book, and in the book of the whole of society, the way the players…and especially my son…carry themselves will be what’s etched into their characters. There will come a day when they hang up their helmets, pads, and cleats. They will step off the field for the last time and their playing days will be over. But life will just be starting for them at that point. The kind of men they become will be shaped by the sum of the games that they played and what they learned on the field.
And that’s where I think I can make a difference. My voice may not matter during the game, but my actions before, during, and after the game set an example. How I act at the grocery store, the doctor’s office, the library, and even driving down the street are all out there for all those young men to see. You never know who’s watching and you never know what they’re learning from what they see.
So as you go about your business the next few days, think about it. What are you modeling to the kids around you?
Get out there and make it something worth looking up to!
