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Sports can help fathers relate to their daughters In a game that caused me to get more nervous than any sporting event since Minnesota faced Atlanta in the seventh game of the 1991 World Series, my daughter Nicole's basketball team at Annunciation School in Minneapolis recently defeated an equally fine squad from John Ireland School of Hopkins, 14-13, for the sixth-grade championship. The following are nearly verbatim exchanges between my wife, Diane, and me during the contest. Me: Come on, Nicole, play hard. Be aggressive. Diane: Should she be doing that? Me: Doing what? Diane: Jumping into piles of people and trying to grab the ball away from other girls like that? Me: Of course, that's the point. She's supposed to grab and steal every ball she can get her hands on. Diane: I don't think that's very polite. Me: "Polite"? What does polite have to do with playing basketball? A short time later, after a player on the other team was called for a traveling violation at a critical juncture, giving the ball back to Annunciation, Diane cringed in empathy: "Oh, the poor dear," she sighed. Whereas I exclaimed, "Way to go!" Actually, I exclaimed this softly, as I was fully alert to the fact that the children on the court really were children, about 12 years old. Also, grownups from the other school were sitting nearby, and I didn't want them thinking I was one of those out-of-control sports parents you read about in the papers sometimes. I've always been a big sports fan, so much so that I'm embarrassed whenever I'm asked about hobbies, as I don't have anything much better to offer than watching ESPN. If I were to recite my proudest achievements, ranking in the top dozen would be pitching and winning a championship baseball game, when my team was a big underdog, when I was 15. I might even put it in the top half-dozen of my all-time exploits if I were plied with enough wine or Gatorade. Yet while I've always appreciated how sports can teach discipline, teamwork and similar virtues, I never realized how suited and invaluable sports could be in doing so until Nicole started playing organized basketball several years ago. I'm quick to acknowledge that athletics are not the only route to learning essential things about winning with humility, losing with grace, and finding the gumption to stick with an obligation no matter how many laps need to be run, be they literal or emotional. Still, when it comes to my daughter, I can't imagine a more conducive vehicle than sports. Think of the joy that drenched Nicole and her teammates when the game ended. I trust they'll remember that earned moment of victory and satisfaction for the rest of their lives. Yet what if John Ireland's last-second shot went in, and instead of exultation, the Annunciation girls were crushed? It might only be a ball, but from it spins so many potential lessons to be learned in so little time. The good news about sports continues, particularly when it comes to father-daughter ties. In her newest book, "Why There Are No Good Men Left," cultural historian Barbara Dafoe Whitehead spends a few pages discussing girls and sports (trust me, it all fits). She talks about how fathers have historically been known to feel "awkward and disconnected" from many of their daughters' activities and interests, especially as they have reached adolescence and turned to "traditionally feminine pursuits." Yet thanks to girls' growing interest in athletics, she writes, sports-minded fathers now have a better chance of identifying with their like-minded daughters. Or, as she puts it, it's easier for fathers to talk to their daughters about hook shots than about parties or proms. This channeling of "traditional masculine impulses and ambitions" into the sports careers of their daughters has been taking place, moreover, during the very same time that many dads have become more intimately engaged in raising their children, both boys and girls, more generally. Taken together, Whitehead concludes, these two trends have led to the "ideal combination of Alpha Male nature and Beta Male nurture." Yes, I know it can be tough to talk about Alphas and Betas without recalling how one vice president took a poorly timed liking to earth tones a couple of years ago. But when it comes to parenting, the pairing is perfect -- though I concede I probably sound more righty than ambidextrous when doing play by play with my wife. -- Mitchell B. Pearlstein is president of Center of the American Experiment, a conservative think tank in Minneapolis. |