Great story and I understand.

I played basketball, but not all that well, in junior high and high school. We lived on a dairy farm and games were always at milking time so my dad was never able to attend a single one. I completely understood.

When in college, a friend talked me into trying out for the cheerleading squad. Dad (and Mom) were surprised (understandable since I'd never even considered it before) and were shocked when I made the squad. Season tickets were too expensive, but they came to one or two non-conference games each year. They were so proud of me that I think they grinned through each game.

Not afraid to say Drathfuster that your story brought a tear to my eye, thinking of my Dad who passed away some time ago. Thanks for sharing.

Very nice story, DF. I never bonded with my dad. He worked long hours and his only outlets were bird hunting and coaching Little League. I didn't want to hunt, and was a disaster at any sport--I couldn't run, hit, or catch. My dad was from a fairly poor farm family and every shot he took was either to sight in the gun or take game--he never just went shooting (every shot had to bring in food). As a result, we never shot together. I have regretted my inability to bond with him, so I realize how wonderful it was for you and your dad. Thanks for the nice story.

flashguy

quote:

Originally posted by Dakor:
Not afraid to say Drathfuster that your story brought a tear to my eye, thinking of my Dad who passed away some time ago. Thanks for sharing.

I remember a piece of music called The Living Years by Mike and the Mechanics. It was the primary motivation that turned me toward my dad. I have engaged him on his territory for almost 10 years. He is a train guy; fanatic really. I started going to his model train shows and though I am over my head there, we enjoy our time together. He patiently explains which train is which and what for. He sometimes has to tell me repeatedly, but I think he doesn’t mind. I know when he is gone I don’t want to have regrets. I’m sure to miss him.

Flash, it was your post that reminded me of the first post story.

quote:

Originally posted by darthfuster:
Flash, it was your post that reminded me of the first post story.

My dad died in 1984 after declining health after major strokes in 1973. Although we didn't share activities, I do miss him a lot. He was a good dad, and stressed all the right life attributes.

flashguy

quote:

Originally posted by SBrooks:

quote:

Originally posted by iron chef:
I had a largely detached upbringing. As long as I got good grades and stayed out of trouble, my parents for the most part left me alone.

It's one thing to be uninterested in your child's sports, but mine downright discouraged me. They were totally not into sports and sporting culture and thought any expense for sports and fitness was a waste of money.

My mother attended 1-2 of my orchestra recitals, not b/c she cared to see me play, but b/c is was less inconvenient to stick around than to drop me off and pick me up later. I did the school musical one year, and she did attend that.

Neither my mother nor father attended any of my track meets. I played organized lacrosse in HS and throughout college, and they never attended any of my games either.

That's sad. Even if you don't care for what they are doing (my daughters ballet recitals when they were barely old enough to balance on two legs...) you love the child enough to go sit through it for an hour or so.

My parents' lack of interest & attendance didn't bother me. I was never good enough that I wanted them to see me. What did bother me was their criticism of my athletic pursuits and for wanting to do things outdoors.

All parents I know and ever knew are/were happy if their kids take an interest in something physical active that keeps them healthy and in-shape. Mine were like, "Why do you need a new pair of running shoes already?!"

It's track. We run a lot. When you run a lot, you wear out shoes faster.

When I graduated HS, I asked my parents not to attend my graduation ceremony. I suppose it was my way of saying, "You took so little interest in my activities, why start now?"

Despite my request, they went anyway. When we met up at home later, they were mad that I didn't stick around for obligatory photos.

That is a wonderful story, darthfuster. Thank you for sharing. As far as your dad's involvement with your sports, it is quality over quantity, and you packed a lot of quality into that single event.

Who knows, since he is so quiet about it, maybe he's seen you more than once. Parents know their children much better than they may let on; it is possible that he didn't want you to do what you ended up doing during your first two at bats, and just kept a low profile.

Either way, that night made him very proud of you, and very happy to see you excel at something you enjoy. Nothing makes a parent happier.

Something like your relationship, my dad and I had very different interests. He never played team sports but was a good golfer. My early childhood learning to play catch with a football or a baseball consisted of my dad throwing the ball AT me rather than to me. It had to be quite comical, but he really didn't know what to do.

I eventually had to learn the basics from peers and from self-teaching, but in retrospect it didn't matter because my dad was still taking time to be with me.

He rarely came to my games too. When he did, it was such a big deal to me, that I would screw up trying to impress him. There was a big HS football game where I had thrown off my blockers and had the kick-off returner hemmed in on the sideline at about the 15-20 yard line for sure tackle. As I left my feet to drill him, I was thinking about what my dad was about to see, a solid drilling of this kid. Instead I completely missed him and ate grass. It was awful and I was humiliated.

After a while, it got to the point that I was happier he wasn't there, or when he purposely hid from my view in order to keep me from messing up (he knew).



.

Thanks for the thread darthfuster this really brought up a similar story for me and being that my dad recently passed it really hit home.

I played baseball and basketball and I can never remember a game that my dad didn't make it to. The strange thing is that the one game that stood out to me the most happened much later in life.

For any of you that know hockey if you are not in a league and only playing for the fun of it you are playing at like 1:00 am when there is open ice time.

Well hockey was always my favorite sport to play but I only ever played on the local pond in the winter since it wasn't a popular organized sport when I was growing up.

Once I got older a bunch of us would rent the local rink and play every Sunday morning at 1:00am. I casually mentioned this to my dad when he was over one day and noticed my hockey equipment. The following Saturday night (Sunday 1:00am) I scored a rare goal (defensemen) and as I was skating back to the bench I glanced up in the stands and noticed a single person sitting in the stands with a big smile on his face and that was my dad. I was 25 years old at the time and for whatever reason it really hit me.