Becoming a Varsity Dad

It was, in a roundabout way, because of sports that I decided to start an expectant-father blog. After reading and admiring the work of a few bloggers/writers in particular, I was inspired to write down my own thoughts and feelings while trying to maintain a sense of humor. In particular, three writers stand out and their blogs are linked on the right: Big Daddy Drew, who is funnier than me, Will Leitch, who knows more about sports than me, and Dan Shanoff, who wakes up much earlier than me (oh, and that whole Harvard MBA thing, too).

I bring this up because Shanoff, after his stint at ESPN and on his own, officially debuted his newest blog this week: Varsity Dad. Varsity Dad can be found at the intersection of parenthood and fanaticism and, in its own words, "is dedicated to raising a great sports fan." Who am I to welcome a guy like Shanoff into the world of Daddy Blogging, but welcome anyway, Dan.

Stories about fathers pushing their children harder as a vicarious extension of their own athletic fantasies are passe (besides, in my family, my father was a far better athlete than I ever have been). But stories about fathers passing along sportsmanship, fandom, and fanaticism? It is a great idea that got me thinking about the values my daughter will hold.

Just Say No To Pink
This goes to the top of the list, mainly because it is my wife's biggest pet peeve. There is nothing cool about off-color team memorabilia. With rare exception ("Green Sox" St. Patrick's Day attire), any piece of clothing or accessory must adhere to the team's current or former color scheme. And I don't care how much of the $1 profit goes to breast cancer research or how cute it looks, pink Phillies hats are a sin.

Like Father, Like Daughter?
By my last sentence above, it seems I assume that my daughter will grow up to embrace the same team loyalties as her father. I would like that to be true, but it will be difficult. I wrote about this before. I'm a Philly guy living in a DC world. I have two decades of living in Philadelphia and all those accumulated memories to fall back on. To my daughter, Philly might only be known as the smelly city where grandma lives. I don't want to insulate my daughter from the Washington sports scene, heck, her father is a Nationals' season ticketholder. But if she came home one night wearing a Redskins jersey, I don't know if I could handle it.

Basic Knowledge
If I can't bring my daughter up to bleed Eagles green or Phillies red, the least I can do is raise her with a basic understanding of the rules of each sport. We might have to wait until she's a little older for her to grasp the intricacies of the infield fly rule or the tuck rule, but I plan on putting a premium on her understanding which sports have runs, points and goals. Such information should be as ingrained as the knowledge of colors and shapes.

Be True To Your School
Phillies red isn't the only color daddy bleeds. Sometimes it's Terrapin red. Growing up in Philadelphia, I was surrounded by quality college athletics (Penn State football, Temple basketball) and some pretty terrible programs (Penn State basketball, Temple football). Despite this, I had no real college allegiance. Maybe it's because my parents' alma maters never get any airtime outside of Ohio. That changed in the fall of 1996, when I became a University of Maryland student and devoted fan. (Devoted = I continue to pay for that education to this day, so I better take some pride in the sports programs).

I plan to expose my daughter to college athletics at a young age, to instill that school spirit (let me re-phrase that, to instill that in-state tuition school spirit). She is, however, free to choose whatever institution of higher learning she wishes to attend. So long as it isn't Duke.

Be a Good Sport
Daddy isn't much of an athlete. Yes, daddy played some sports through high school, but it's not really like that. During lunchtime at baseball camp, while others ate and horsed around, daddy read baseball books. Daddy was the one who always volunteered to coach first base. Daddy's career batting average is below .250 and he threw out approximately 8% of all baserunners stealing second.

There's a good chance that my unborn daughter will continue my athletic tradition of enthusiastic participation with subpar execution. I can tell you, at any given moment in any situation, where the baseball should be thrown. My problem was always getting it there. But through it all, daddy kept a smile on his face.

And if I can impart one thing to my daughter, it would be to keep that smile on your face. Sports may be big business, but they are still glorified games, and are meant to be enjoyed. Nothing stirs emotions like sports and few secondhand payoffs are as glorious as a team victory. Just so long as that team isn't the Redskins.