The Power of Parenthood

A Daughter’s Innocent Questions, a Father’s Life-Changing Answers

LAST SUNDAY I flipped on the Vikings-Giants game, and my 6-year-old, as is her custom, started peppering me with questions. They were the usual: Who’s playing? Which team is wearing the white and purple uniforms? Which one the blue and gray? And then the kicker: Who do we want to win?

In that moment I realized the immense power I hold as a father. I’ve inculcated her with enough sports savvy to know that when a Philadelphia team is playing, that’s whom she roots for. But when both teams are out of town, I get the chance to shape lifelong loving and loathing of teams for whatever rationale I care to come up with. I can turn her into the only kid in her dorm with Dallas Stars and Cleveland Indians posters on her wall, just because. I can foster a visceral hatred of the Arizona Cardinals and the Sacramento Kings, just because.

(In Sunday’s case I told her the truth -- we were to root for the Vikings because the Eagles were chasing the Giants in the wild-card race, not that I needed a reason to wish a loss on New York.)

Of course, with great power comes great responsibility. And so I will never tell her to root for the Mets, the (football) Giants, the (hockey) Rangers, the Celtics, or the Lakers.

Well, unless there are playoff implications for our guys. S|C

Comments

[Jeff Martin]

Or Villanova.

[Tom Durso]

True dat.

[Chris Durso]

Or unless one of your fantasy leagues demands it....