Three years ago, when my then-6-year-old son, Alex, expressed his desire to play soccer, I was taken aback. It was a moment I anticipated, as many of his friends were involved in sports, and their fathers were cheering them on. I often felt like the odd one out. Unlike many men, I’ve never had much interest in playing or watching sports. This disinterest stemmed from various factors, including my lack of hand-eye coordination and my shorter, stocky build that doesn’t lend itself to athleticism.
However, the root of my aversion to sports goes deeper. My father left when I was young, which left me feeling isolated during school conversations where classmates shared stories of bonding with their dads over sports. For me, sports were a constant reminder of what I lacked—a father figure to share those experiences with. I recognize the significance of sports in many men’s lives, and my disconnection from this world has made it challenging to forge male friendships. This is particularly ironic given that I work for a Division I athletics program, which is a role I stumbled into.
Ultimately, when Alex asked to play soccer, I had to set aside my own feelings. I didn’t want him to experience the same sense of exclusion I felt. Many parents find themselves navigating this complex landscape, balancing their own dislikes with their children’s interests. It can vary from tolerating annoying YouTube videos to dealing with the noise of a musical instrument. For some, it’s even more complicated, like confronting aspects of their upbringing they wish to avoid.
I signed Alex up for soccer, secretly hoping he would lose interest—but I was mistaken. Not only did he enjoy the game, but he also wanted me to join him. That summer was filled with countless hours spent kicking a ball around on a grassy area near our home. I had little knowledge of soccer rules, and thankfully, neither did he.
In many ways, we were learning together. For the first time, my thoughts weren’t clouded by memories of my absent father; I was solely focused on the joy of spending time with my son and discovering something new. I made it a priority to attend all his practices and games—not just to show support, but also to learn so I could engage more fully with Alex.
One evening, while practicing at a park nearby, I noticed how Alex would always stop the ball before kicking it. I suggested he try kicking it while running toward it, an idea that seemed obvious to me. After an hour of practice, he finally got it, looking at me as if I were an expert—a look I had yearned for from my own father. In that moment, I filled a void for Alex that I had wished to fill for myself as a child.
During his next game, he used the technique we practiced to score his first goal. My heart swelled with pride. The first thing he did was look at me and smile, as if to say, “Look, Dad! We did it together!”
Now, at nine years old, Alex has played three seasons of soccer and even tried his hand at basketball. I’ve had to learn the art of dribbling and shooting. Our Sundays are often spent in the front yard, shooting hoops and laughing together. In those moments, I experience the father-son connections I always longed for.
I doubt Alex is aware of my past feelings towards sports; I’ve never shared that struggle with him. I know that soon, he will surpass me in skill, but for now, he believes I’m the greatest player. He doesn’t vocalize it, but his admiration is evident as he watches me clumsily navigate our driveway. In many ways, he has gifted me the chance to build the connection I missed out on during my own childhood.
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Summary
My journey from disliking sports to enjoying them through my son’s passion has transformed my perspective on fatherhood and connection. Alex’s love for soccer allowed me to overcome my own past and create cherished memories together.