I never joined a fraternity in college, but several years ago I did join an exclusive club – that of fatherhood.  Well, I don’t really know how exclusive it is, but it is safe to say not everybody on this planet is a father.

As a father, you experience varying emotions with your children.  When they’re really little, you just wish they will grow out of that phase where they are keeping you up all night.  Even if they do get beyond that there is always something new that you have to deal with.

Heck, my daughter is still waking me up at night.  She had a bloody nose at 2am that I had to deal with.  It’s always something isn’t it?

There is nothing like being a father of an athlete though.  It certainly is fun being the athlete and participating in the sporting event, but this fatherhood thing is an entirely different feeling.

Sports is my life.  Literally.  My job is to get people better at their sport.  So when I watch my kids play sports, it is a different emotion for me.  I’m sorry, but watching my kid in pre-school stand up with her classmates and count to 100, just doesn’t illicit the same kind of emotions.

I think I’d rather watch a marathon of The View then have to endure some of those holiday programs the kids put on at school.

But watching your kids play sports is something entirely different.

I admit, just like every father I dreamed that my kid would be the prodigy on the soccer field when she first played.  Then reality set in as all she did was follow the swarm of kids following the ball the entire game.  Okay, maybe I need to alter my expectations.

The first time my oldest played basketball, she touched the ball a whopping three times ALL SEASON.  One time the coach made one of her teammates pass her the ball.  He looked at her for 10 seconds and with some encouraging eventually let her catch it.  I think she got the ball stolen from her.  Maybe not the next Sue Bird.

As they grow older though, they start to understand the sport.  The games they play actually start to resemble how the adults play the game.  And every so often there is a game played where you start to get a little anxious if they are going to win or not.

If you are lucky enough for your child to continue playing, now there are whole new dynamics.  You try your best to temper emotions.  When you talk with your kid after the game, you try to be encouraging and not sound like you do when you are asking them to do chores.  You want to nurture their own excitement about sports.

You start bonding with other fathers.  Trying to pick your moment where you can give a glowing complement to their kids in order for you to hear the reciprocal one about yours.  Maybe you start planning with the other fathers about extra practice you can do together or where to meet before the next game.

You want to help your kid develop as an athlete so that they can have experiences similar to yours or maybe better.  You want to play one-on-one with them or pitch batting practice to them.  You want to help them be successful.

As a father, you want to share your kid’s success with your own dad.  “So this was what it was like when you were watching me play, huh?”

When they win, you are jubilant.  When they lose, you are heart broken.  When they get hurt, you feel the pain.  When the game is close, you are going nuts because you can’t do anything to help.  When their names in the paper, you want to say, “That’s my boy.”  Or, “She’s kind of a big deal.”

I enjoy when my kids bring home their report cards and get good grades.  And I certainly appreciate when someone says, “Your kid is a joy to be around.”  But, being a father of an athlete is simply the best.

You put all this emotional energy into your kid’s athletic development and it gets rewarded when your son/daughter gets put in front of a camera and says, “Hi Mom!”  Maybe not the acknowledgment you were hoping, but all you can do is shake your head knowing that’s what being a dad is about.