This one’s personal. Well, hey, it is Father’s Day.From the time she was old enough to talk, my oldest daughter, Elizabeth, has made it clear that sports were not her thing. Sports were a “Daddy” thing. Yes, every so often she would come down to the basement when I was watching the Royals play, and she would crawl into my lap, and she would stare blankly at the television for a while.Then she would say, “Daddy, when do the commercials come back on?”Sports? No. I remember when Elizabeth was 4 or 5 years old and she got it in her head that she wanted to play on a soccer team. So we signed her up for some league, and she loved her jersey, and during games while the other little kids chased around the ball in the erratic way that little kids do, Elizabeth stayed back with a friend and talked about things like their favorite colors and how bees die when they sting people.“I like soccer,” she announced once.“You like standing back and talking to your friend,” I said.“Yeah,” she said. “That’s what I meant.”Well, being a sportswriter father of two young girls who care nothing about sports — Elizabeth is 7 now, Katie 4 — is perfectly fine with me. We have plenty of other things to talk about. We talk about clothes. We talk about “High School Musical.” We talk about dolphins. We talk about ghosts and princesses and the height of Abraham Lincoln and how cold it is on Pluto. We talk about how you don’t want to step on ants because they help the earth. This has been Katie’s kick lately.And sports just don’t come up much. Oh, yeah, Elizabeth will say surprising things because kids pick up things you never expect. Every so often, she will blurt out something like, “The Royals’ problem is they can’t score runs,” or “Nobody can guard LeBron James.” Once at school last year, apparently, one of the teachers went up to Elizabeth and asked what she thought about the Chiefs. She said, “I think the Chiefs should get all new players,” a viewpoint she obviously shares with Chiefs general manager Scott Pioli.The teacher then asked: “Is that your opinion or your Daddy’s opinion?” Elizabeth said, “That’s my opinion. I don’t know WHAT my Daddy thinks.”Beyond the cute moments, though, she really doesn’t care (and, by extension, her little sister doesn’t care). And that’s OK with me. Still, it’s Father’s Day … and sports do connect fathers and children. I have a friend whose direct connection to her father is Oklahoma football — it’s the one thing they can talk about — and another friend who talks often to his father about who should be the quarterback of the Carolina Panthers, and others who reach their fathers through the Red Sox or the University of Wisconsin or Tiger Woods or, especially, the Royals. I cannot tell you how many hundreds of people I’ve heard from through the years who would like the Royals to be competitive again, not for themselves, but for their fathers.Sports have always been my deepest connection to my Dad, too — my father came to America three years before I was born, and he was the one dad in my class who had a thick accent, but it didn’t matter because he was the one dad who knew the most about sports. My childhood revolved around it. I think of the time we jumped up and down and hugged when the U.S. Olympic hockey team beat the Soviets. I think of the infuriating way he would beat me at tennis playing his dink-and-dunk style. I think of the cold Cleveland nights when we would be sitting in old Municipal Stadium — sitting behind a metal beam, of course — and watching the Indians lose another game.

Posted on Sat, Jun. 20, 2009 10:15 PM

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Even the unlikeliest of sports bring fathers, children together

JOE POSNANSKI COMMENTARY

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This one’s personal. Well, hey, it is Father’s Day.

From the time she was old enough to talk, my oldest daughter, Elizabeth, has made it clear that sports were not her thing. Sports were a “Daddy” thing. Yes, every so often she would come down to the basement when I was watching the Royals play, and she would crawl into my lap, and she would stare blankly at the television for a while.

Then she would say, “Daddy, when do the commercials come back on?”

Sports? No. I remember when Elizabeth was 4 or 5 years old and she got it in her head that she wanted to play on a soccer team. So we signed her up for some league, and she loved her jersey, and during games while the other little kids chased around the ball in the erratic way that little kids do, Elizabeth stayed back with a friend and talked about things like their favorite colors and how bees die when they sting people.

“I like soccer,” she announced once.

“You like standing back and talking to your friend,” I said.

“Yeah,” she said. “That’s what I meant.”

Well, being a sportswriter father of two young girls who care nothing about sports — Elizabeth is 7 now, Katie 4 — is perfectly fine with me. We have plenty of other things to talk about. We talk about clothes. We talk about “High School Musical.” We talk about dolphins. We talk about ghosts and princesses and the height of Abraham Lincoln and how cold it is on Pluto. We talk about how you don’t want to step on ants because they help the earth. This has been Katie’s kick lately.

And sports just don’t come up much. Oh, yeah, Elizabeth will say surprising things because kids pick up things you never expect. Every so often, she will blurt out something like, “The Royals’ problem is they can’t score runs,” or “Nobody can guard LeBron James.” Once at school last year, apparently, one of the teachers went up to Elizabeth and asked what she thought about the Chiefs. She said, “I think the Chiefs should get all new players,” a viewpoint she obviously shares with Chiefs general manager Scott Pioli.

The teacher then asked: “Is that your opinion or your Daddy’s opinion?”

Elizabeth said, “That’s my opinion. I don’t know WHAT my Daddy thinks.”

Beyond the cute moments, though, she really doesn’t care (and, by extension, her little sister doesn’t care). And that’s OK with me. Still, it’s Father’s Day … and sports do connect fathers and children. I have a friend whose direct connection to her father is Oklahoma football — it’s the one thing they can talk about — and another friend who talks often to his father about who should be the quarterback of the Carolina Panthers, and others who reach their fathers through the Red Sox or the University of Wisconsin or Tiger Woods or, especially, the Royals. I cannot tell you how many hundreds of people I’ve heard from through the years who would like the Royals to be competitive again, not for themselves, but for their fathers.

Sports have always been my deepest connection to my Dad, too — my father came to America three years before I was born, and he was the one dad in my class who had a thick accent, but it didn’t matter because he was the one dad who knew the most about sports. My childhood revolved around it. I think of the time we jumped up and down and hugged when the U.S. Olympic hockey team beat the Soviets. I think of the infuriating way he would beat me at tennis playing his dink-and-dunk style. I think of the cold Cleveland nights when we would be sitting in old Municipal Stadium — sitting behind a metal beam, of course — and watching the Indians lose another game.

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

Posted on Sat, Jun. 20, 2009 10:15 PM

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