By Gregory Keer
My son Jacob runs up the track, his back straight, his arms and legs pumping with precision. The taller kid in front of him looks like he'll easily win the race, but Jacob has a kick. His feet tap the composite ground like Gene Kelly and Jacob whooshes ahead to the finish line.
A thrill leaps in my chest. That's my son! He may only be a 6-year-old running in practice, but I can already see him flying down the lane in high school, college, the Olympics …"Daddy, can I eat those goldfish and sit on your lap for a little break?" Jacob asks.
In my bleacher seat, my overheated expectations cool as I reason with myself that this is not about me.
Truthfully, though, some of this is about me. Ever since my first son wriggled with impressive strength on the hospital bed beside my wife, I imagined my children would be athletes. It's an age-old father fantasy, though I know a lot of moms share in the hopes of seeing their kids score the winning basket or smack a game-tying home run. Some of it sprouts from my desires to relive the excitement of childhood sports, especially since I cannot run or jump without being severely injured or depressed by my lapsed skills.
Yet, as I enter my second decade as a dad, I'm rebuilding my thoughts about athleticism from the kid up. After too many "soccer dad" comments that, at their worst, made my eldest son cry, I've found a balance between pushing my boys to compete in sports and giving them space to simply enjoy playing and being part of a team.
For Jacob, sports have been a natural release for a kid who seems best suited for a bygone era when children could climb and frolic outside for whole days at a time. On the fields and courts, my primary challenge with Jacob is to keep him from fouling the other players in his zeal. He finds true freedom and exhilaration in every sport he tries, even if he stinks at the skills part.
His 3-year-old brother Ari is my little jock, or so I hypothesize by his habit of kicking and throwing anything round within his sight. He's also the one who challenges me to races and tries to jump into the games he watches his brothers play.