A Role of True Significance
I spoke with a father recently who coaches his young daughter in basketball. Her team is competitive, but he acknowledged his daughter is not one of the stronger players on the team. She’s not had a standout game all season. And he struggled to understand why she didn’t welcome the chance for extra practice with him after the rest of the team went home. As they worked on her free throw form she began watering the court with her tears, seemingly uninspired by his exhortations to buck up and focus.
“What am I supposed to do? On the court I’m not her dad, I’m her coach. She’s got to learn she can’t just fall apart.”
Never mind that she’s a child, only nine years old.
Never mind that her professed love for this sport is inextricably linked to the way it facilitates the blessings of time, attention, and praise from her father.
Never mind that an extra twenty minutes of shooting practice tacked on to two or more hours of team practice may be physically and emotionally exhausting.
“You said something interesting there about your role on and off the court. On the court you’re Coach, not Dad. So, what happens if she’s on the court and needs a dad? Where can she find him?”
“What do you mean? I’m her dad.”
“But not on the court.”
“Well, no, not in that moment. She needs a coach. I’m there in that moment to coach.”
“What if what she needs in that moment isn’t a coach? What if she’s a little girl who needs a dad?” I tried to explain. “If you were a spectator on the sidelines she could look to you as Dad. You could give her a smile or a thumbs up. If her coach were being too hard on her or you could see her getting overwhelmed, you could speak up for her. You could defend her, protect her, be her cheerleader. But when you turn into Coach, Dad disappears.”
He listened for me to bring home my point.
“Little girls need dads. Little girls always need dads. They might need coaches sometimes, but they need Dad always.”
This father is a loving, kind, and involved parent. He wants to support his daughter and help her excel and learn to work hard. He does an admirable job prioritizing time with her. But in a moment he, like any of us may do, got caught up in something urgent and forgot what was most important. His daughter cried at the free throw line and his focus was on basketball, not his daughter’s heart. We are all susceptible to such error. We do well to honestly assess if this is an error we make on a regular basis.
Choosing What Truly Matter
Mom, Dad, you wear many hats. When it comes to your kids, many of you are coaches, teachers, chaperones, tutors, administrative assistants, religious mentors, accountability keepers. All of these roles are needed at times. But the role of Mom, the role of Dad—these are significant and needed at all times. In your child’s life there is only one you. Don’t get sucked into neglecting the things of long-term significance for gratification of the immediate. Your kids only get one childhood—spend it focused on the things that truly matter.