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.

...And We're Back...

I was away for a few days, but not in the vacation or "getaway" sense. I was away in the blogger sense. That is, I was dealing with some other crap for a few days. Among the real life crap: battling a debilitating cold and moving. While I'm sure you want to hear about my courageous battle against a common virus, the more exciting news is that I'm typing to you from our future nursery! Which is a kind way of saying, I am surrounded by yellow. It's pushing midnight, and yet, it's still bright as day in here.

I've been thinking about moving lately, and not in the change-of-address sense. As in the, "my daughter sure does move a lot" sense. Now, I haven't yet been able to feel my daughter move yet, but My Lovely Wife sure has. Ever since Lefty was jarred awake during that traumatic plane ride, she's been reenacting scenes from Flashdance in my wife's uterus.

The closest that I may ever come to feeling something move inside of me comes about thirty minutes after I eat Taco Bell, so I can't really imagine what any pregnant woman must feel. If you've never been pregnant, or even if you have, think about how my wife must have felt when - disregarding all advice and reading material and sleeping in her usual position on her stomach instead of her side - all of a sudden, a very constrained being jabs her quickly from the inside.

My wife has slept on her side ever since. I'm glad that she does, since that is the healthy way to pass the next few months, but does it also mean my daughter is going to solve her problems by punching them? That can't be good.

Lefty also has some fairly odd sleeping habits. Apparently, every ultrasound that we have ever scheduled has come during Lefty's naptime. I'm fairly certain I saw her give us the finger after we awoke her during our last appointment. But when my wife is taking a deposition? That's when Lefty uses the placenta as a Slip N Slide. Very professional, kid.

All this internal movement, from my point of view, is very positive. There's not much to complain about a healthy active child, even one that has yet to be born. Maybe Lefty will take an interest in gymnastics, or dance, or jujitsu.

Of course, it's entirely possible that Lefty will want to sleep all day, and wake up only after nightfall to begin moving around like a spaz. But I'm hoping that will come at a natural point in childhood development: college.

Can Baby Say, "Poor Clock Management Ruins Pre-Game Preparation?"

I try not to discuss sports in great depth with my wife. She has two things working for her that make sports conversation challenging: an absolute ignorance of even the most basic rules of sports, and an unbelievable intelligence and sense of logic.

Explaining not just the rules, but the strategies of sports becomes a mental exercise.

"So that team has four tries to go ten yards?"
"They are called downs, but yes."
"So why do they just try three times and give up?"
"Well, punting gives the team better field position when they are on defense."
"That's stupid, they should just go for it, they are wasting 25% of their chances."
"Actually, it's funny you say that. A professor actually has been analyzing NFL coaches and their tendencies to go for it on fourth down and found that coaches should be more daring on fourth down. It will lead to greater rewards, statistically speaking."
"Hey, is The Fridge still playing?"

The conversation gets interesting when I try to explain my allegiances. There's not much explanation, really. I root for teams from Philadelphia, where I grew up for 18 years, and the University of Maryland, my alma mater. I have an interest in other teams, but feel no passion for them.

I haven't lived in Philadelphia for over a decade and currently live in a city with four professional sports teams. Yet I have never - and claim I will never - root for any of them. I'm even a season ticket holder for one team and openly root against them.

My love of Philadelphia sports was born of geography and nurtured by my father. But he was a Philadelphia transplant, moving to that city at roughly the same age I moved out on my own. He was from an area with no professional sports teams, and grew up in the "Game of the Week" era, so his allegiances weren't set until he settled down.

This is basically a long-winded introduction to me asking the eternal question: How can I steer my child to root for the teams I root for?

My child could convert to a different religion or decide that pyramid schemes are a good career choice and I wouldn't mind. But if my child declares him or herself a Redskins fan, I might not be able to take it.

Ah, but hope is on the way!

I learned today of a new company out there, Team Baby Entertainment, which creates and markets team-specific videos to young children. They've even lined up some big names to narrate the videos: Ben Affleck, Bob Costas, Regis Philbin, and more. What better way to ensure my child roots for the teams of my choice than infant propaganda?

While no video exists for any Philadelphia sports teams or the University of Maryland yet, I remain hopeful. I'm sure Ed Rendell or Sly Stallone would be up for the gig. And for my beloved Terps? How about this proud alum?

Really, infancy is the perfect time to begin watching sports. An infants fascination with movement and color will really allow the child to see patterns in intricate NFL defenses or identify when the third-base coach called for a hit-and-run. Most importantly, if you are a Philadelphia sports fan, you are also adept at crying.

In Honor of March Madness

It's the most wonderful time, of the year!

Even the youngest among us get into college basketball during tournament season.

Why I'm Glad I Married My College Sweetheart: Exhibit A (via Deadspin)

Hey Kid, Santa Claus Ain't Real, Either

1. Register for Day Care
2. Complete Birth Certificate/Social Security Information
3. Register for This Club