Life Lessons
An Unsuccessful Athlete
Or, how to punish those we love
I was nine years old the first time I quit.
The reason that I left little league football was not that I didn’t want to play. I did. I mean, I had the usual football heroes like Roger Staubach and Archie Manning which likely reflects my age and NFL geographical viewing area more than anything else. I also followed Lynn Swann (for obvious reasons).
The real reason I quit football at the mature age of nine was to punish my dad for being a chronic alcoholic.
Although he would eventually stop drinking within the year, he was still living life as a sloppy and mostly angry drunk. And for some odd reason, I didn’t appreciate having a violent and sloppy drunk for a dad.
I knew that my dad wanted me to be a successful football player. But, my dad didn’t know that I would never develop the necessary athletic skills for such a journey. After yet another violent drunken episode at home, I made the decision to punish my dad and quit football.
Certainly, that would make him change!
There’d be no chance for a college or pro career if I didn’t play, right?
As if that were really on the table.
