Dr. Benjamin Spock

I played baseball in high school and college. I even played in a league of more than thirty Back in mid eighties. When my child Sarah was born in 1991, baseball was not something I thought she would never be interested, but when she was about six years, I took her over to the park to hit some baseballs . She picked up the ball after I hit them, and she got up to bat. She hit some balls, and even ran the bases. Sarah has had and still has the ability to coordinate sports good eye-hand, flexibility, strength and agility. Well, when Sarah was 7, said she came to me one day: "Hey Dad I can play football?" I said, "Sure." So I went out and bought him a soccer ball , shin guards and cleats. I entered the city recreation league. I must admit I was very excited. We practiced kicking the ball into the court, and we both get pretty excited about his first game.
Well, Saturday came the first part, Sarah and I went to the soccer field. After a few warm-up activities and a pep talk from the coach, the game started. To my surprise, Sarah was in the starting lineup. She went up and down the field for the first ten minutes, and she finally had the opportunity to hit the ball. She took her first kick, missed the ball, and landed flat on his back. She rose, and came crying on the sideline and asked, "Do not make me play more, Dad, I can not do." She refused to return to the game. The game ended, and the path of the car, she kept screaming: "Do not make me play daddy, please, I do not want." I gathered all my courage and I he said sternly: "You play. You play. Now get in the car." She got in the car and we drove home. On the way home all I heard was a group of sniffling and whining in the back seat. I did not return home very long, but I can tell you this. She spent. I was exhausted by the emotion ally the time I got home. We pulled up in the driveway, and I sat sadly in the car as I watched Sarah go out and walk around the house, snorting and shaking her way through the front door. I sat stewing in the car and said to myself, "Who wants to play football anyway, play dumb." I then tried to continue the rationalization of my thoughts by saying, "Soccer for boys anyway." I went into the house, was at the bottom of the stairs and yelled down the stairs, "Sarah." She sniffed her way through a "Yeah dad." I said, "Come." She went downstairs and I told him: "Look honey, you do not play football, if you do not want to play. It's ok with me. " She said: "Oh thank you daddy." She gave me a big hug and kiss and ran upstairs.
Honestly, I felt like his hero. I was her knight in shining armor. I had to go through for her and gave her exactly what she wanted. I was sure I had made the prudent decision, I did not even need to ask the advice of his mother. I told myself what is the big deal, no harm. I was glad to know that I left my six year old daughter to make her own decision.
Well, I have another daughter, Grace (Grace is 6 years younger than Sarah) who came to me when she was six and told him: "Hey Dad, I can play football?"
I said, "Sure honey." The same routine was resumed, the shin guards, shoes with cleats, soccer ball, practice, and finally the game. But this time the outcome was much different. Grace ran eagerly up and down on the ground from one end to another. She never even close enough to touch the ball, but she had a good time. Grace went off the field with an expression of absolute joy in his eyes and said, "Boy that was fun, Dad." She played the first season, and had a ball. She played the next season and really improved. She wanted to score really bad, but he has not had the opportunity. She has always loved the game for her, every game has been a.