Rob_Haswell's Blog

I've talked about this numerous times in the past both in this blog and on the air during Wake Up but just to recap ... I am about as athletic as a drunken three toed sloth. 

My father fancied himself a bit of a jock.  He was pretty good at hockey and held his own in most other sports but he was hoping for a son that would eclipse all that and shine on the field of sports battle.  As a result he was enthusiastic to say the least when I played baseball or hockey. 

Dad would scream and shout and make more noise than anyone cared to hear in the stands.  It wasn't a big deal in hockey because I was way down on the ice with a helmet on so I couldn't really hear it but in baseball it was a nightmare.  When it came to the great American pastime, this Canadian boy stunk and stunk badly! 

Point of clarification here - I played softball not baseball.  There were few if any of what we called "hardball" leagues in Canada at the time (1970s) and none in my area.

I make that point because even with a larger ball I wasn't much of a hitter. Short of playing with a beach ball, I wasn't likely to get a "big hit" but that didn't stop dear old Dad from shouting about a big hit.  His favorite was "you're due!   you're over-due!" which always made me cringe because essentially he was pointing out to my teammates as well as the opposing team that my batting average was just north of a big goose egg!  There were other cringe worthy calls like "get in the game", "where are you throwing?" and "dear lord stop picking dandelions!" Alright I made that last up but you get the idea.

All that being said, you'd think I'd sit quietly and cheer politely for my kids at t-ball right?  Wrong.  I can't seem to help myself!  I'm hooting and hollering just like dear old Dad!  Even borrowing some of his favorite lines like, "run it out" when the ball barely goes a foot or two or his classic "go go go".  Is it in the DNA or something?  Perhaps.

In an effort to break the cycle, I am much better ( I think ) at avoiding any cheers that point out the deficiencies of my kids athleticism unlike the old man.  But, I am still one of the noisy parents and I don't seem to care.

My point?  Well, I guess I understand my father a little better now.  I don't have the same desire to see my kids as stars on the field as he did but it doesn't seem to matter when it comes to being vocal in the stands.  Dad may not have made the best choices in what he said but now I understand why he couldn't keep quiet.  He was a father and the desire to tell the world "that's my kid" just can't be denied!  In a way, I'm impressed that he kept cheering even as it became more and more evident that I was more likely to win an Emmy or a Tony than a World Series or Stanley Cup.