Last month we celebrated Father’s Day. On that special day, I wrote part 1 of a tribute to my dad. We call him Opa. He truly is the man, the myth, the legend. In this post, I will continue to explain why my dad is the greatest in the world.
My desire to be an athlete started when I was young
Like most young men I struggled in my early years. I was full of energy and not good at staying focused. My mom described me as impish. I did fine academically, but the one thing I wanted more than anything was to be an athlete. Sports fascinated me. The problem was that I did not know which sport to play. My dad was patient with both me and Uncle Perry when it came to sports. He let us try several of them to see which one we liked the most. Uncle Perry settled on playing soccer and swimming. His choices seemed good to me, so I decided to follow in his footsteps. The only problem was that I did not know if I was good at either. Oma helped settle the situation. She said it would be best if we played the same sports. Less equipment to buy, and fewer logistics for her to manage getting us to practices, games, and meets. Thus began my swimming and soccer journeys.
The A in Dad stands for affirming
Uncle Perry was a natural athlete. He was a good soccer player and a great swimmer. He excelled at both, especially swimming. His times improved quickly. Within a few years, he was one of the top swimmers in the area for his age. Each year he became even better. Uncle Perry practiced hard over the years and eventually earned a swimming scholarship to Tulane University. He had a remarkable swimming career. Not so much for me. Like many kids today I started at an absurdly young age – six years old. In the beginning, it was ugly. In fact, it was so bad that I wanted to quit. But, I didn’t. The one reason I kept swimming was my dad’s affirmation. He believed in me more than I believed in myself and it made a big difference.
My Dad watched over me as I struggled
In order to join the swim team at age six, I had to prove that I could swim. Makes sense. No one wants to rescue a drowning kid during a swim meet. I was required to swim 25 meters without assistance. Not a hard thing to do unless you are six years old and don’t really know how to swim. I entered the water and peered across the pool. The other side looked like it was a million miles away. I was scared and nervous. My dad sat on a nearby bench to observe. I started to swim and did not make much progress before I grabbed the wall to rest. I had failed the test. I was about to get out of the pool when my dad appeared by the side of the pool. I told him that I could not do it. He calmly encouraged me to keep going. Grab the wall when you get tired to take a break. But don’t quit. Stay in the water. Just keep swimming. So that is what I did. It was ugly. I would swim a few strokes and then grab the wall to rest. My dad walked along the side of the pool watching over me as I struggled. Each break I took he would tell me that I could do it – keep swimming. Eventually, I made it to the other side. Exhausted by the effort I pulled myself out of the pool and started to walk towards the locker room knowing that I had failed the test. My dad told me to wait. We were not done.
My Dad convinced me that I could handle it
The swim coach came over to give me the “better luck next time” speech. Before he could say a word my dad informed the coach that my first attempt was merely practice and that I was now ready for the test. Really. I could see it in the coach’s look. No way your kid is passing this test today. But, to his credit, the coach agreed to give me a second chance. I turned to my dad wondering if this was a good idea. Opa told me that I was fighting the water. He said to relax, breathe, and swim with my eyes looking forward. Look for the wall. It will be there before you know it. My dad convinced me that I could handle it. I got back into the water hoping for the best but expecting the worst. My dad sat back down on the nearby bench. It was not pretty, but somehow I managed to swim the full length without assistance. I passed the test. When I finished I looked back towards the bench to see my dad. He was not there. He was standing over me with a smile on his face. He knew I could do it. Thus began my swimming career.
Sometimes you have to compete against better swimmers
Fast forward a few years. I am nine years old. My swimming had improved a lot. In fact, I won many races when I was eight. But, I moved up into the 9-10-year-old age group the next year. Humbling experience. Went from usually winning to rarely winning, and coming in 3rd place a lot. My confidence was waning as the season progressed. My dad continued to encourage me. Just keep pushing, your day will come. One weekend our swim team was in a tough meet at the end of the season. Whichever team won that day would win the league. The score was tight going into the relays. Every race mattered. When my relay team came up we were down by a few points. The relay was 100-meter freestyle. Each of us had to swim 25 meters. We decided to start with our fastest swimmer to build a lead. He did. We were winning when he completed his leg of the relay. Our lead had vanished as I stepped onto the blocks. I was our second fastest swimmer so I was selected to go last. I looked over at my competition – a ten-year-old who kicked my ass earlier in the day. Not good. I gazed over to the left and saw my dad sitting quietly on a nearby bench. He stood up and yelled three words – you got this. For some reason, I believed him.
My Dad inspired me to win through his affirmation
I entered the water a body length behind the other team. I started swimming as fast I could after surfacing. The lead shrank. I could hear the crowd cheering. I could hear my dad yelling for me. You got this. I relaxed, did not breath at all, and swam as fast I could with my eyes looking forward. The wall came faster than expected. I gave everything I had at the finish. I raised my head to see my teammates who were ecstatic. We won. The opposing team was in shock. They had not lost a relay race that year. Their last swimmer was dejected. He had not lost a race all year. I raised my arms in victory and turned to my left. There stood my dad. He gave me a thumbs up and walked back to the starting blocks to get ready to watch my brother’s team race.
The voices in your head matters
Uncle Perry’s team won their race easily, and we ended up winning the division that day. In the grand scheme of things, not a big deal…unless you are nine years old. After the meet, Perry and I talked about it. He congratulated me on my performance during the relay. I mentioned that I had never heard Dad scream so loud before while I swam. I could hear his voice the whole time. Perry asked me what I was talking about. Perry let me know that dad did not say a word while I was swimming. He just walked and watched. I know it is true because Dad did the exact same thing during Perry’s race. When I reflect back upon this moment in my life I realize that I did hear my dad’s voice that day – inside my head. Affirming me as a son. Letting me know that I could handle the competition – that I have what it takes to win.
I would say my greatest achievement in life right now – my greatest achievement period is – and I’m still trying to achieve it – is to be a wonderful father to my kids.
Bo Jackson
Who is inside your head when the battle comes?
Why am I telling you boys this story now? First, to honor my dad for being such an encouragement in my life. His affirmation has made a huge difference over the years. I still hear his voice in my head when times get tough, especially when I want to quit. I know people who never received a single encouraging word from their fathers. The voice inside their head is not a positive one. In fact, it is the opposite. More importantly, I want to affirm both of you. I hope when you hear my voice in your head that it is positive. You have more talent, better skills, and bigger opportunities than I had at your age. Make the most of it. You have what it takes to be a success. You can handle it. You got this.