Fatherhood has been in the news this week, as the New York Mets Daniel Murphy has found himself embroiled in controversy, taking abuse from talk radio and television commentators who are insanely criticizing him for taking two days to be with his wife and first child. Two days! It's crazy. Two days in a major league baseball season is like a blink.
If you're tired of hearing about Daniel Murphy, I have good news. I'm not writing about him today. I'm writing about myself. (If you'd rather read about Daniel Murphy than read about me, then Google "Daniel Murphy paternity" and you'll be entertained for the next few hours at least).
On Monday I was planning to be home between meetings in the afternoon for an hour, maybe 90 minutes. Well, something came up and my time at the house was cut short to about 10 minutes before I needed to head out again. Little did I know that my wife, expecting me to be there for a while, had told our 5-year old that Dad would be home to play ball with him that afternoon. He was waiting for me at the door, ready to go when I got there. When I explained that I was only going to be home a short time, he lost it. Tears, yelling, the whole deal. "I want to play baseball with Dad" was the refrain.
I'm not one to condone tantrums, and my son needs to learn to keep it together and stay calm when things don't go his way. At the same time, for me the bigger, more important lesson I received was the reminder that my kids need me. All four of them. With the little guy, it's easy. He lets me know when I've let him down. I hear the yelling and see the tears. But with his three older brothers who need me just as much, it's far easier to lose track of them in the busyness of life. They are not going to scream and cry when they don't get my time and attention. They will not usually be the squeaky wheel that cries out for grease, which makes it all the most essential that I choose to be intentional about having time for them as individuals.
This morning, four days after the scene described earlier, I carved a couple hours out of the day and took Sam to the park. We played baseball together the whole time. It was awesome to get away from the world and just play with my boy and enjoy the smile on his face.
So far, other than the fact that baseball was the activity that started the whole thing, this hasn't been much of a coaching blog post. But I think there are a few important tie-ins for us as coaches. Perhaps most obviously, coaches spend a significant amount of time away from their families. Whether it's practice, staff meetings, away games, or whatever else, we are often gone. Not to mention that when we're away, we are investing in other people's kids and there's no shortage of stories of coaches' kids being jealous of the attention that their parents give to other kids. That doesn't mean we are wrong to be gone, but it does mean that if we have a family, we need to remember to prioritize the people we live with. I don't pretend to know how best to do that in every person's unique set of circumstances, but it needs to happen.
Maybe you don't have children, or yours are grown and gone. This still applies to you, because another aspect to consider is the reality that a significant percentage of the young people we are coaching are dealing with parents who are unwilling, unable, or just clueless when it comes to meeting the emotional needs of their kids. We are not their parents, but as adults in a position of influence, we have an opportunity to be a much needed light in a dark world.
80's Lyric
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