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I Win!
I am driving down 41st Street, my eyes compulsively
scanning the Capitola Mall parking lot. Traffic is
heavy and I should be watching the road. Finally, I
spot an old Volkswagen Beetle. "Slug bug yellow!
That's two points." I quickly and proudly announce.
But I'm alone in the car. I dropped off my
daughter, Molly, at school ten minutes ago.
"How embarrassing," I think, "to be playing this
stupid game by myself." Suddenly I notice traffic
has stopped. I slam on the brakes and barely avoid
crashing into the car in front of me. What if I had
hit it? I imagine explaining to a police officer
that I had been roundly trounced on the way to
school by a seven year old who had spotted four
slug bugs and two slug buses when all I came up
with was a lone Karmen Ghia which Molly says
doesn't count. Would there be any compassion for a
dad that was just trying to catch up?
It makes me think about how I get hooked into
competition. I had the pleasure of coaching Molly's
soccer team this fall. We were undefeated until the
last game. All the girls were really excited about
winning this last match as well. Two of Molly's
good friends were on the other team, which added to
the tension. In the fourth quarter the score was
still zero to zero. It looked like we were going to
go home with a tie. "Maybe that's best," I thought
to myself. "Then no one will feel bad."
Brushing that thought aside, I stacked the
forward line with the team's most experienced
players and pressed on toward victory. With one
minute to go, we scored. Our whole team jumped in
the air. Their whole team looked at the ground.
Five minutes later we were all shaking hands, but
one of Molly's friends was still crying on the
sidelines. On the drive home Molly said, "I almost
wish we hadn't scored."
"Why?" I asked.
"Well, I wanted to win, but I didn't want to
make my friends feel sad." I reflect on the fact
that this comment is coming from a girl who has
already declared her intention to become a World
Cup Women's Soccer champion. One of these two
sentiments is going to have to give way sooner or
later. I secretly hope she keeps her sensitivity
and passes up the World Cup. I think the odds are
in my favor. In every tournament there is one
winner. And everyone else is a loser. I remember a
time earlier in the season, when I watched a father
yank his daughter by the arm, drag her behind the
stands and scold her to tears for not hustling hard
enough. There must be another way to get together
and all have a good time. Perhaps we would be
better off with non-competitive dancing, rather
than sports.
But there is an excitement that draws me into a
contest to determine who is "the best". And judging
form my own experience as a soccer player, I seem
to be willing to suffer a multitude of losses in
pursuit of a win. On the way to pick Molly up in
the afternoon, I find myself memorizing the
locations of all parked Volkswagens between our
house and school. But it is to no avail. Molly's
vigilant eye still beats me.
"Slug Bug Blue, Convertible! That's four
points!" she declares with great relish. I will
never catch up now. But I find myself sharing her
smile of self-satisfaction. She gets to win this
round of Slug Bug sightings. But I get to be her
dad.
© 2010, Tim
Hartnett
Other Father Issues,
Books
* * *
Your children need your presence more than your
presents. - Jesse Jackson
Tim
Hartnett, Ph.D. is a licensed Marriage and Family
Therapist in private practice in Santa Cruz, CA. He
specializes in Individual Counseling, Couples
Therapy, and Divorce Mediation. He can be reached
at 831.464.2922 or through his website:
www.TimHartnett.com
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