Let’s start today’s post with a little musical. A few verses from one of my favorite songs, “Cats in the Cradle”, by Cat Stevens.
My child arrive just the other day
He came to the world in the usual way
But there were planes to catch, and bills to pay
He learned to walk while I was away
And he was talking before you knew it and as he grew
He said, “I’m going be like you, Dad,
You know I’m gonna be like you”.
Great singing.
The father son relationship is a bond that could save the world from any evil; make you feel untouchable, even invincible. I’ve had these powers all my life and give credit, love and respect to the greatest man in this world, my father.
But here’s something we learnt together when I was a little toadster.
Never pay or bribe your child to play soccer. If you need to, give them an allowance independent of the game. Allowing your child to have a little pocket money is a great way to teach them responsibilities. Responsibilities with the moula also known as money.
By linking money to soccer, parents turn soccer into a reward, which clearly sends the wrong message. What happens if you stopped paying or bribing your child to play?
That’s right, they will lose interest and quit the game.
In the absence of reward, soccer loses its shine and appeal to the young fragile mind. It turns soccer into a financial transaction, not the beautiful world game.
I can remember on a beautiful late summers afternoon being promised certain goods for effort and discipline. New boots, new shin guards and even new computer games were promised in return for a little blood, sweat and tears.
On completion of training, and let me add, friggin hard training, the gifts were exchanged.
The good ol days.
But what eventuated soon after nearly put an end to my soccer journey. Being young, naïve and to some extent greedy, the rewards needed to increase in value. What started as a new pair of socks turned into a new pair of shin guards. The shin guards manifested into boots and my father’s pockets did seem very deep at the time.
Training became intense as I developed and the grand prize awaited me.
Back in the 80’s I was one of the first kids to own the legendary Intellivision. For those that don’t remember, it was the gaming unit that competed with Atari for gaming supremacy. The graphics included sticks hitting a dot across the screen while the same sticks could double up as cars in the blockbuster game Auto-Racing. Technology has definitely come a long way.
After the acquisition of the best gaming unit money could buy, the rewards or bribes stopped. There was nothing left to buy. A car would’ve been nice but at the age of 6, I don’t think so.
The year I received the gaming unit I quit the game for a short period of time. Okay, until the games became boring and I wanted to return to soccer. Some how my father knew this all along and allowed me to quit only to return after begging for weeks to play again.
So the moral of the story is this, even if money is no object, you simply cannot afford to pay your child to play soccer.
And the cats in the cradle and the silver spoon
Little boy blue and the man in the moon
When you comin home, Son, I don’t know when,
But we’ll get together then Dad,
We’re gonna have a good time then.
“May the winds of destiny blow you to the stars.”
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