Coach Dad

I had no interest in basketball. I had even less interest in coaching. So why did I agree to run my son's team?

- By JOHN HANEY, Belmont, North Carolina

I was standing outside our house on a crisp November day in Belmont, North Carolina, a comfortable suburb just west of Charlotte, where my wife, Ashley, and I had settled to raise our three children: Amelia, 7; Jack, 5; and Ava, 2. Nothing was more important to me than being a good father to my children. But more and more these days, I asked myself, Was I?

Just then, Amelia ran up to me and asked if I wanted to go for a walk. Not a big moment for most dads, but it felt good to be asked. I took little Ava's hand, and we were off down the block, Jack and Amelia walking their bikes ahead of us.

I’m a business consultant, which means I spend a lot of time on the road, more than I would like. Still, I enjoy my job. I love working with people, helping companies develop their employees into strong, successful teams. I believe every employee has potential, and positive motivation is the way to bring it out. I believed it was the work God meant for me. I only wished I felt that confidence about my role as a dad.

Suddenly I heard Jack shout, “Let’s go!” He and Amelia jumped on their bikes and tore off down the street, leaving me and Ava in the dust. Some family walk, I thought. I paused and squinted up at the sharp-edged clouds scudding across a pale blue sky, wondering why I always felt like I was missing something in my relationship with my kids.

I wasn’t completely clueless about myself. They say your parenting style is often shaped by how your parents raised you, and the Lord knew my role models weren't perfect. My relationship with my dad especially. He worked long hours at a physically demanding job that I suspected he had no real love for. He came home exhausted and detached. We rarely interacted in any meaningful way. Didn’t play catch. Didn't go fishing like other kids and their dads. Mainly we kept our distance.