I totally understand now how all the "jock" dad’s out there gets born. You know the ones that never miss a single one of their son’s practices. The ones shouting at the referee to open his god dam eyes and the ones yelling at the coach to get his son off the bench.
I totally visited that place this weekend when my kids tried downhill skiing for the first time. Before the day was over I had their training schedule all lined up in my mind and how they would become the youngest downhill skiers ever to win a national championship.
Later that evening I happened to catch a documentary on TV called "Americas Strongest Child and Me". It was about a dad who had failed his own sporting carrier miserably and was now trying to get a new chance for glory through his son’s achievements.
In the year 2000 his son Richard shocked the world with his world record in weight lifting. Later his dad Aaron proudly showed how he had trained Richard for three hours every day in the basement, which he'd nicknamed the dungeon. His son was only eight-year-old.
Let’s say my failed sporting carrier has never felt better.
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