Have you ever watched the Olympics or some other sporting event like Wimbledon, where they pan the camera through the spectators and pick out some star athlete’s parents? Invariably, the Dad is wearing a baggy short sleeve Hawaiian shirt and a goofy hat with little metal grommet holes for hanging his fishing lures. When we launched our family nearly 15 years ago, that was my aspiration. One or both of my kids was going to be a world class tennis player or track star and I could join Mr. Blackwell’s “10 Worst Dressed Men” list, while bilking millions of dollars in personal fees from my kids.
Well my diabolical plan is taking shape. The first phase of producing a body that could generate revenue competitively is complete. Our son’s toes reach door knobs before his outstretched hands, his legs end at his neck and as far as his weight goes, let’s just say you wouldn’t buy yourself much time if you tossed him overboard from a sinking ship. Physically, he was born to run.
Ah, but there’s also the head and heart aspects to winning a race. In those areas we’ve got some work to do. As a Freshman, he enjoys the bus ride to and from the meets more than crossing the finish line.
Here’s a typical scene before a race. “On your mark…get set…”
“WAIT, I HAVE TO PUT MY SPIKES ON!!!” Not quite that bad but you get the point.
So to push my plans for a summer home in Maui along, I’ve been challenging him each meet to take a few seconds off his race time. Last weekend he clipped 20 seconds off his mile and this week I may offer a cash bonus if he does it again.
Stay tuned. By the way, anyone know where I can get a good fishing hat?