Kentucky Wildcats Basketball: My son, my love of sports, and my mortality

Robert Deutsch-USA TODAY Sports

Not much is happening around Kentucky basketball right now, making it a tad difficult to write about Kentucky basketball. So instead, enjoy this piece I wrote several months back for my own blog. 

My father turned 63 this year. I am very aware that already he has lived longer than his father and as long as his father-in-law. And though he still works 6 days a week, I also can’t help but notice the subtle (and not so subtle) signs of his age. The reluctance to drive at night; the sore feet; the pain in his hands. Nine years ago, just after college but before graduate school, I was again living at home. That summer, my father and I spent a lot of time playing catch—tossing the ball around, just the two of us. And though it seemed we were transported back in time to when I was a kid playing Little League begging my dad for just 10 more minutes, it was clear that summer he couldn’t quite throw it as far as he once was able, that his fastball wasn’t, well, fast. That summer, I suddenly became aware that my father, no matter how much I wished otherwise, would not live forever.

There comes a point where a man suddenly realizes not only his own father’s mortality but his as well.

Maybe it was the appendectomy I had in August. The dull, numbing pain in my lower abdomen that wouldn’t go away, sent me to the hospital, and resulted in a lost appendix. Or perhaps it was simply noticing more and more gray hairs where brown hairs once grew, in my annual attempt to grow a beard. Whatever it was, I’ve suddenly become aware that one day I, too, will pass from this earth.

When you reach that point, you can’t help but wonder if you’re sharing with your kids all that you want them to have. If you’re teaching them all that you want them to learn. If you’re letting them experience all that you want them to experience.

John Oliver, the seemingly affable Senior British correspondent for Comedy Central’s The Daily Show, remarked in an interview with Esquire magazine that, “A way to form a relationship and navigate a childhood with your father is through sporting events.” My own relationship with my father would echo this sentiment. While he was there for every orchestra concert, every quiz bowl tournament, and every school play, our relationship begins and ends with sports. Sports were the vessel through which I first knew him as a parent and then as an equal. Even today most of our conversations start and finish with a discussion of sports.

Though I certainly want my relationship with my own son to be about more than just sports, they are an essential part of who I am. I was raised on University of Kentucky basketball; became a fan of Indianapolis Colts football; and fell in love with the beautiful game. So now is the time to start passing on that love of sports to him, just as my father did to me. And although there are days where my son seemingly worships the ground I walk on, there are also other days where his strongest influences are everything other than me. I realize I have, in my ways, a limited time to affect which teams he will support. Already his maternal grandparents have taken him to University of Louisville basketball games. Women’s games, to be sure, but they were UofL athletic events nonetheless. And when he came home, all he wanted to talk about was the Cardinal bird mascot.

I saw a study once that said parents—specifically, dads—were mostly responsible for which teams their children cheered. The odds, therefore, should be in my favor. He should be a Kentucky basketball fan because I am a Kentucky basketball fan. He should be an Indianapolis Colts fan because I am an Indianapolis Colts fan. But anything can happen. After all, my father is a St Louis Cardinal fan and somehow I ended up a Chicago Cubs fan.

None of this is to say that my son has to love sports. If he doesn’t, I have no doubt we will find many other things on which to build our relationship. And even if he does grow to love sports, he doesn’t really have to like the same teams I like. It would be nice but it won’t be the end of the world if he doesn’t.

And besides, I still have time to work on his younger sister.