My dad taught me how to play lacrosse. Instead of playing tennis my sophomore year
in high school, and because it was the first time lacrosse was available at my
school, I decided to go out for it. I
figured I had as good a chance as anyone else since no one had played before
either. My dad had been a star lacrosse
player at the University of New Hampshire (1948-1951) and having the chance to
play his sport while in high school
was too good a deal to pass up.
To teach me the game, Dad took me out into our large
backyard where we passed the ball back and forth. He showed me the right way to hold the stick,
how to aim my throws and how to draw the ball into the basket when
catching. After I was able to make decent
passes he had us start moving a bit, and I knew how to lead-a-pass from playing
basketball and throwing footballs around with my friends. Then, when he thought I was ready, he had us
do a drill he had done in college. We
started jogging in a large circle with each of us on opposite sides of the
circle. While moving ourselves we had to
pass to the other who was also moving.
Then we switched from right-handed grip to left-handed and reversed
direction. I wasn't very good… at first,
but Dad stayed with it and eventually I was pretty decent.
Being a father to a son isn't like playing darts where you
try to aim a lesson to a stationary mind.
Your son’s mind is constantly changing, and so is yours. You are learning right now, and that changes
your perspective. You are moving, and
your son is too. Instead of aiming a
dart – while standing very still – and trying to hit a tiny target just a few
feet away, being a dad is more like tossing the ball back and forth while you
are both running in circles around each other.
Oh, yeah, and if one of you isn't paying attention… well, you can guess
what happens.
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