SxmPerspective: I didn't like the sport my dad liked

This is post is My birthday weekend post.

Sometimes when I think back on how a father can be disappointed in his son (not being like him) can lead to his son having advantages in life. <Smirking> Maybe I wasn’t the son my dad waited 20 years for, which is a very long time to have to wait for your first born and only son, I wasn’t going to become the baseball player he wanted me to become.... That was very disappointing to him.

Just to give you an example as to why. I hated baseball. It was the equivalent of me watching for paint to dry. In my view.

As a little boy, I was overheard by my mom talking to myself often as I was the only child, I strutted through my backyard, Yankees Baseball cap in place, toting a ball and bat. I said, “I’m the greatest hitter in the World!” Then I tossed the ball into the air, swung at it, and missed. “Strike One!” Undaunted, I picked up the ball, threw it into the air again and swung at it and missed again. “Strike two”. Hmmm being a fellah who was creative in my thinking I paused for a moment to examine my bat and ball carefully. Then tossed the ball a third time into the air, swung and missed again
' I’m the greatest pitcher in the World, Strike three!’ What a lefty pitcher I will become… LOL. not on your life!

You see I was left-brained and did things the reverse to how my dad taught me to do things. I tossed the ball with my left hand and tried to hit it batting right like he did. SMDH. so I missed, I was following, how my dad (a right-hander) did it. I was not successful in doing things like him!

My dad partly grew up (his teen years) in the Dominican Republic ( that is where my first and middle names came from) So he loved baseball, but I didn’t… What my dad did not understand.... was that when a child is a lefty he does thing the opposite to a right-handed person. So when I would watch my dad giving me examples on how to hit the ball, he did it the reverse of how I would do it naturally, and therefore I looked awkward doing it. My dad was not very patient. And since he waited 20 years to have a son, he was instantly disappointed that I was not exactly like him. His birthday was 2 days after mine. So we were the same sign. So in his mind, I should be the apple that did not fall too far from the tree. But I was not like him in many ways. But I was impatient just like him, however. SMDH, my mom recognized that similarity as she would often say: “ you are just like your father” I would frown when she said that because I didn’t feel she was saying it in a positive way. Hmmm! I didn’t look like him and I was left handed (left brain) and he was right-handed (right brain). As we were both very creative minded, impatient and stubborn. He always wanted things done his way, and I did things my way. Constantly disappointing him. My choices were not the same as his.

I was told by many who knew my grandfather, my mother’s father that I looked so much like him. That made me proud to the max. I had no idea what my father’s dad looked like he had died before I was born and my dad did not have pictures of him or my grandmother on his sides These Grandparents were missed story to me.) When you maintain an air of confidence, obstacles are easily overcome. You believe within your heart that you will accomplish your objectives. Denying the voices that tell you that you can’t do something or that you won’t; because you can and you will! And when you reach your goals through the trait of self-confidence, give yourself a high five. You’ve got what it takes!

My dad was a mature man by the time I was born.
I was a 5 year old at my parents Silver anniversary!

Why did I have so much self-confidence? In spite of the disappointment, I often saw in my dad’s eyes. Simply because I knew my dad was proud of me even though he almost never said it. Maybe because I did things the complete opposite to the ways he did things. And I knew my mom was most proud because I looked like her father whom she adored. Which made me feel like could do anything I tried to do. I became ambidextrous because my sister/Cousin, whom my parents raised was studying to become a school teacher she taught me to write with my right hand ( she told me if I didn’t want the kids to laugh at me I would learn to write with my right hand, now we could not have that. So I learned how to use both hands and feet to do many things, others could only use their right. I would show my dad that I could do everything he could and even things he could not. He built me a table-tennis table just so we would play after he got home from work. We needed to bond at doing something together. And just like him, I hated to lose. So I would use both hands switching the paddle back and forth and would hit passing shots to his left, and beat him. He would say: “ you are getting to be too good at this” and he stopped playing with me. LOL, OK… when I left home for college he lectured me about staying out of trouble, a very good talk for a 17-year-old heading for N.Y. city. Considering the last two years of high school, he was in SXM building our new home, and I was in trouble a few times because I was n’t being controlled with a strong hand by my mom the way a boy should be controlled at that age. She did her best, but sometimes a boy needs his father’s stronger hands to grab him by the neck and turn him if he is heading down the wrong road.

That talk helped me graduated with a degree in Computer science, from N.Y. Institute of Technology…a school ranked almost as high as MIT this was one of my proudest moment, My dad didn’t understand what I did in my new career. All he saw was me typing code that didn’t make any sense to him (what did I do in 4-5 years of attending an expensive University) His son who could have been an architect (like he wanted) disappointed him again. I chose to spend a great amount of money studying to become a typist (computer programmer). Hmmm! another disappointment to my old man. Like I said I disappointed him more than once. But I didn’t turn out to be a no-good-whatever. <smirking> His way was not my way! I made it a point to have a different relationship with my sons. Maybe they will write their version one day. I might not be around when they do… just like my dad is not alive as I’m writing this post.

Each of my sons was raised somewhat differently to each other because of my ….Analytical skills... allowed me to adjust to their personalities. They never disappointed me…. I’ve always felt very proud that they turned out with skills that I taught them and more. So they are not like me, they are both right brained… but they were raised to be balanced because they didn’t have to adapt to “a right-handed world” as I did. But I taught them both to be semi-ambidextrous and they excelled as a result of being able to change on the fly. My eldest won the regional Taekwondo championship (in Orlando) beating the best black belts in that Championship year, he was never really challenged (in spite of him having a really bad cough.), one of his friends won the World Championship later that year as my son hurt his knee before the tournament or he would have won that too I’m pretty sure of it.. because he could switch his stands and confuse his opponents.... the friend that won it never could beat him even with a bad knee. He scored at will using both hands and feet his famous hook kick was an instant two points. which would cause opponents to panic and run in and get nailed.
My youngest son became the most explosive soccer player that could play on the left side of the field and was almost unstoppable, (maybe my coaching him had something to do with that) from when he was little, and he always stepped up in big games when he got older his high school teams won the State championships 2 years in a row... his club team went undefeated not too long ago. He hates to lose (like his grandfather, he even looks like his grandfather a bit ) so if his team really need him he delivers.
I would like to think that was what I taught them…. I tried to mold both of them to be amongst the best in their choices of sports. NOT my choices for them! They are their own men. Not their Dad’s carbon copies! I’m most proud of that part.