During a recent phone conversation with my wife, we found ourselves deliberating whether to enroll our 10-year-old son, Ethan, in another soccer season.
“I’m really getting worn out from taking him to practice twice a week and having our Saturdays consumed,” Sarah remarked.
I sighed in unison, recalling the previous weekend when Ethan had two back-to-back games in different towns. I spent the entire day packing snacks for his team (it was our turn) and driving him from pregame practice to the first game, then back for another practice, and finally to game two. By the end, I was left with a sweaty boy in muddy cleats, both of us completely wiped out.
As we spoke, I was at work, while Sarah was crammed into our hot minivan with our 7-year-old daughter, Mia, who was desperately trying to finish her homework so she could play outside. Meanwhile, our toddler, Noah, was busy causing chaos in the back seat while Ethan played soccer at the park.
The crux of the issue lies in the fact that neither of us has ever been particularly sporty. As a child, I reluctantly played a few seasons of soccer and baseball, but I did so only because my parents insisted. I loathed every second of it. With my short stature, poor hand-eye coordination, and lack of athletic drive, those experiences were far from enjoyable.
Reflecting on those days brings back memories of being ridiculed for missing catches or kicks, and I remember standing in the outfield, wishing a ball wouldn’t come my way. I couldn’t wait for the games to conclude.
I’m not entirely sure why Sarah wasn’t into sports either, but when we started dating, she asked if I was a sports enthusiast. I replied with a blunt, “No,” and her smile said it all.
I assumed sports wouldn’t play a significant role in our lives. That was until Ethan, around age seven, expressed his desire to play soccer, influenced by some friends already involved. We discussed it and thought it would be a fleeting interest. “He’s our child,” Sarah said, “I doubt he’ll be that into sports.”
Clearly, we misjudged. Fast forward three years, and we were both lamenting the hassle of practices and games, debating whether to continue this chaotic routine for our busy family.
Sarah frequently had to pause our conversation to assist Mia with her homework, and as she did, I realized how naïve we had been in assuming Ethan would mirror our disinterest in sports. Many new parents envision their children as a blend of both parents, inheriting traits and preferences from each side. While Ethan shares my short stature and some physical traits, he is undeniably his own person with unique passions. Often, he seems to reject my interests with a clarity that leaves me bewildered.
However, upon stepping back to evaluate how soccer has positively impacted him, I can’t ignore the benefits it has brought into his life. When Ethan struggled with his homework, Sarah told him he’d have to quit soccer if he didn’t improve. That was the wake-up call he needed. Each season, he makes new friends while enhancing his coordination, skills, and confidence. The once timid little boy chasing a ball has transformed into a determined young athlete. Without soccer, he might have simply defaulted to YouTube and video games.
I’ve witnessed Ethan charging at boys much larger than he is, intimidating them with a bravery I never possessed at his age. He dives fearlessly into a fray of kicking feet as a goalie, snatching the ball without hesitation. His determination and self-assurance are unmistakable.
To be completely honest, while I’ve only missed a few of Ethan’s games over the past three years, I still don’t fully understand the rules of soccer. I can’t converse in the sport’s lingo or name professional players. But one thing is clear: soccer is significantly enriching my son’s life. Despite my lack of enthusiasm for the sport, the chaotic travel, or cleaning out the van post-game, Sarah and I decided to sign him up for another season.
Why, you ask?
It’s simple. As parents, we often set aside our own feelings to prioritize our children’s happiness. Being a parent means standing on the sidelines, cheering for your child, even if you’re uncertain about the game’s details. It means sacrificing weekends for months, or even years, because witnessing your child’s joy makes it all worthwhile. So, despite the exhaustion, we push forward, knowing it’s in the best interest of our child.
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In summary, while I may dislike sports personally, I cannot deny their invaluable role in my son’s development. It’s a reminder that parenting often requires us to put our preferences aside for the sake of our children’s growth and happiness.