There, I said it. I hate the one sport that I willingly sought out for my daughter to play at age 11. The motivation then was to involve her in something. Perhaps it was that dad fear of his daughter becoming THAT girl. so, sign them up for everything. Chess club, band, choir, sports. Anything to keep the guys away. College scholarships? Yeah, that will work too. Just keep the guys away. Too busy for dating. Too busy for relationships. Too busy.
And softball was fun. It helped me build some daughter/dad time when she was a tweener. I loved our talks on the way to practice as she was rushing to put on her socks. The smiles when she scored. The surprise of her first triple.
There were underlying issues I dealt with. Being gone every weekend. Less time with my younger kids because I was taking score, or lobbing whiffle balls an hour before games. Early wake-up calls. Losing on Sundays. Losing on late Saturday nights and not even getting to play on Sunday. Playing 14u.
But, in the end, my daughter excelled. She was everyone's favorite teammate. She compliments well. Not the star but certainly not the runt of the litter. Fast but not lightning. Flexible. the utility player. Kinda like she is in life. Everyone's best friend, great grades but not 4.0. Not the loudest one of her bunch but no slouch. What a young lady she has turned into. And it has nothing to do with my quest to keep her away from guys or to keep her too busy to socialize. I hate softball but I love her. It's a good "but then" to have.
This fall and now going into winter, I've stayed away from any of her tournaments. If I ever missed a game during the summer, I took it out on whoever was making me not be there. I cancelled appointments and denied visitations from friends. Sorry, softball tourney. Sorry, practice. Sorry.
I did not handle this sub culture well. I enjoyed the notoriety that went with the game and being involved. I joined a softball message board and met hundreds (okay, tens perhaps) of people. Giving myself to God helped in that regard too. Instead of wins and losses (well, not sure if that itch to win will ever leave, just not by any means necessary) it was being on the right team, the right place. All the whiffle pitches and cookouts and hour before games with bad coffee were supposed to lead somewhere. A scholarship, recognition, maybe even some coaching glory. I grew selfish. Instead of loving the game because it accepted Lisa, I loved it for how it made me feel.
And this lead to other feelings. Resentment isn't something you carry around lightly. What kind of person am I to be jealous of a teenage girl. Why? Because she plays better than Lisa? Because she's treated better by the college coaches? Why am I picking on the flaws of everyone and not noticing the log in my eye? I tell my friends and they side with me. Friends sometimes comfort you instead of telling you to get over it. If I get over it, I'm weak and submissive. But isn't that the way I have been taught by my church community? Submit yourself.
So, now I sit at home on the weekends and get text updates about how my daughter is doing. This past week she finally told me she wanted me there and that it had obviously upset her that I haven't been to one game since August. How do you tell your daughter you don't want to see her coach, or a friends' mom or dad, or even their own friend? What kind of dad have I become?
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