Why Family Sports?

When I was 15 years old, my family moved out of the United States to live in Europe. I didn’t speak the language in Hungary, I didn’t know the culture, and I didn’t know anyone there. I learned many things in Hungary and had many adventures. But one of my favorite memories happened nearly every day.

My dad was very busy with work for most of the day and even sometimes through the night; he was working online to provide for us. But on many days, he would stop work in the middle of the day, get us kids into our sports clothes, grab the soccer ball, and take us the few blocks to a soccer field to play. We’d play for at least an hour. Eventually, local kids started to join us and even though we didn’t understand most of what they said, we were able to have a good time.

When we moved back to America, this tradition continued, but with basketball. Not every day, but at least once a week, we would go to the local church and use the basketball court in the morning before Dad had to go to work. It was just one of the things our family did.

The great thing about playing with my family, is I don’t have to be good! We play to be together, to learn, and to have fun. Everything I’ve learned about sportsmanship I’ve learned from playing games with my dad. When we’re losing, we stay happy and keep trying. When we’re frustrated, it’s no excuse for fouling. Just because someone can’t shoot a lay-up doesn’t mean you don’t pass them the ball. Just because the other team is our opponent doesn’t mean the players aren’t people. Of course, not all the games were cheery and happy. Some of my siblings could get competitive and angry. Sometimes they would play hard against a younger sibling, then my dad would play hard against them. But generally, we could move past the adrenaline and have a good time.

One of my favorite parts of the game is when a little one wants to play. They’ll run onto the court and yell for the ball. Whoever has it will gently pass it to them, and everyone will gather around. The opposing team pretending to block and fall over, the supporting team lifting them up or encouraging them. Then the little one shoots! And whether or not they score, everyone cheers! Then the little one will run off and play a different game.

That’s what families are for. When you want to try something new, something hard, they gather around you. They give you the support you need. And whether you succeed or fail, they’re still there to cheer you on.

Now I’m in college. I still love to play sports, but I don’t really. I know that I’m not very good at them. I have my strengths, of course. I can block pretty well in basketball, and I’m not afraid to run and kick at legs in soccer. But I can’t shoot a three pointer, or even lay-ups very well. And as a goalie, the ball can make it past me pretty easily (I tend to close my eyes). So, I don’t volunteer to play because most people I know who do play, play because they’re really, really good; and I’m not at that level. And I know I should move past that fear and just play. But what I love is going home and joining in the family basketball game or ultimate frisbee; I’ll even play football with them. Because with my family, all that counts is that you join in the game. They take me as I am—weaknesses and strengths and all. And they don’t just leave me standing in the field, they make me run!

Once, shortly before I left home, I told my dad that I didn’t want to play basketball with everyone else. There had been a lot of adrenaline-drama recently and I didn’t feel like I was enjoying the game at all. I thought that was a good enough excuse and that Dad would leave me home. But he didn’t. He told me to come and that he would fix things. And he did. I don’t remember exactly how, (and there was still a bit of angst from one of my brothers), but I had fun. So even when I tried, I couldn’t leave the family game.

So, when I look back on my childhood, or even when I participate in group games as an adult, I think back often on the lessons my dad taught me. I smile when I think about fun games or silly accidents that happened. Most of all, I look forward to when I get to go home and join in the game again.