Even the unlikeliest of sports bring fathers, children together

I think of this one time at an amusement park — I’ve written about this before — when we were at a shooting gallery. Maybe this isn’t sports, but I think it is. My father is probably the most peaceful man I know — no temper, utterly incapable of violence. I kept trying to hit the targets with the rifle they had there, but of course I could not do it. So I handed him the rifle and asked, “Can you do it?” He said he didn’t want to. I asked again, and he nodded and put a quarter in the slot.

And then, bam, he hit the target that made the piano player play. Bam, he hit the target that made the duck quack. Bam, he hit the target that cracked the mirror. Bam, he hit the target that made the glass fall off the bar. Bam, bam, bam, time after time, he hit target after target. It was so amazing that soon people were coming from all around, gathering around him, shouting, “Hey, hit the barrel,” and bam, he hit the target, and there was water shooting out of the barrel. People ask me the amazing stuff I’ve seen in sports … there was Rulon Gardner beating the unbeatable Russian, Usain Bolt piercing through the wind, Tiger Woods turning Augusta National into a putt-putt course, my Dad never missing a shot at an amusement park shooting gallery.

“Where did you learn to shoot like that?” I asked him.

“In the Army,” he said, and he didn’t say anything more.

So, yes, I do think about that sometimes, think about how games bring fathers and children close. There are other things, of course, that connect us. Elizabeth loves reading. Katie loves music. Elizabeth loves writing. Katie loves changing into different clothes every 17 minutes. Elizabeth loves magic tricks. Katie loves jokes. Both love movies. We’ll find our way.

Last Sunday afternoon, I was watching the Royals on television, when Elizabeth wandered downstairs. She crawled into my lap — fortunately, she still does this — and she said: “Dad, this is boring.” So I flipped to golf on the TV.

“Dad,” she said in her exasperated way. “This is MORE boring.”

So I flipped and found a show called “Wipeout.” You may have seen this show; you’ve certainly seen the commercials. It’s a show about people running through various kinds of obstacle courses, the premise being that sooner or later, everyone ends up in the mud. These contestants bounce off rubber balls, they spin madly on runaway merry-go-rounds, they run on a treadmill while trying to avoid a giant wrecking ball swinging over their heads.

Elizabeth loved it because, you know, she’s 7 years old. So we watched it, and she rooted for this one woman, and she faltered. Elizabeth switched her allegiances to some guy, and he was actually quite good at the game. “He deserves to win,” Elizabeth said, and he did win.

Then, when it was over, Elizabeth asked: “Daddy, does that count as sports?”

“Well,” I said, “sure, it’s kind of like sports.”

She smiled and snuggled closer. “I love sports, Daddy,” she said. “Just like you.”

To reach Joe Posnanski, call 816-234-4361 or send e-mail to jposnanski@kcstar.com. For previous columns, go to KansasCity.com.

• Most Read