Sports are just games. They’re a simple pleasure. They’re just a vessel to release our innate competitive spirit.
Or so they say.
The father-son relationship can be tough waters to navigate, especially when your dad works a 40-50 hour work week with an hour commute. So, my dad bridged the gap with me by giving me a series of gifts.
The first gift that he gave to me was the love for “America’s greatest pastime”: baseball. One of my earliest, and happiest, memories came from playing wiffle ball in the basement with my dad. It was a one-sided matchup, really — he would chuck the ball as hard as he could while my 4-year-old arms would flail the oversized bat in the general direction of the pitch. And then I would do a 360, hoping that just maybe I would hit the ball on my second go-around.
The second gift that he gave to me was basketball. When I was barely a toddler, I had a tiny, squishy basketball placed in my hands — or maybe my dad would toss it to me and watch it bounce off my face while jokingly exclaiming, “He’s as dumb as a rock!” That sounds more accurate.
I really had no choice other than to love sports, for I was instilled with the passion so early on in my childhood.
Sometimes it’s easy to look back on my athletic career as a one-dimensional extracurricular — something that I did just to pass the time. Most of the time I just want to move past that phase of my life and push onward.
But to do so would be a disservice to the best gift my dad gave me: his time.
It wasn’t enough for him to simply support my athletic journey, cheering and clapping on the sideline, he had to get fully involved. And his involvement only grew as my passion swelled. From the moment I joined a team, he always volunteered his own time to coach. After working a long day at his office, he would show up every day to the field or court smiling and joking with the team.
His involvement wasn’t an “I’m living vicariously through my son” type of involvement. It was the “I want to give my son and his peers an opportunity to succeed and have fun” type. As much as he loved and cared about me, he cared about the other kids just as much — he stayed up late into the night formulating lineups and plans that made sure every kid had a chance to do well. He made sure to individually cultivate relationships with each of the players and their families. He made sure to never intentionally make a kid upset over a simple mistake in a game.
From immature kids to immature parents, he gave his time and energy for the sake of me and my teammates. Because he knew what it was like not to have an opportunity.
It took me a long time to understand what he had given me, and perhaps I’m still figuring it out. But what I can say for sure is that the time that he sacrificed was an intangible gift that will follow me around for the rest of my life.
I don’t think that it is far-fetched at all to say that the community and atmosphere surrounding my youth sports have, in a rather conspicuous fashion, shaped me into my current form. Sports gave me a community — a community based on competition, hard work and camaraderie. Sports instilled the importance of teamwork working alongside a competitive spirit.
And as I continue forward in life, the ideas and mentalities my dad helped cultivate within me through the vessel of sports will remain in my right pocket, ready to be pulled out when the time comes. Whether it be in my line of work or in social relationships, passion, a competitive spirit and teamwork are valuable skills.
Just like a hermit crab is vulnerable without its shell, sometimes important lessons require an outer covering. From the outside, sports are just a game. But upon closer inspection, they’re simply a shell my dad and I used to connect with each other, teach each other and learn from each other. (Shoutout to the three hermit crabs we had growing up — Jet, Monster and Taffy).
Dad, your dedication to giving me the best experiences in not just sports, but life, has led me to the place I am today. You gave a gift that is priceless, and I am forever grateful for that.
Happy Father’s Day!
Love,
Eli
Statement Contributor Eli Trese can be reached at elitrese@umich.edu