Sports Can Bring Parents and Kids Together

“Quiz me on the positions again,” I say to my 15-year-old son, placing my phone facedown on the table corner.

He’s running errands with me, something he does as infrequently as he hangs up bath towels or turns off lights. There’s no school today, and I bribe my growing boy with lunch at a favorite burger joint. He’s content to browse the electronics and music sections in Target while I shop, particularly when french fries await him.

Always the planner, I’d thought about our lunch date ahead of time and was determined to engage in meaningful conversations with my teenager. Since his older sister left for college, he and I have spent quite a bit of time together, but often that time is filled with things we have to do. This lunch is an opportunity to simply sit and talk. I don’t want to screw it up. I choose the one subject I know he loves and can talk about endlessly.

I had absolutely no interest in football as a girl or young adult, even when I married a dedicated fan. When my son began developing a rabid interest in the sport at 5 or 6, however, I started paying attention. To my surprise, I enjoyed watching. It was a way for us to bond, and my interest gave my son the chance to show off his extensive knowledge. He may not remember to turn his socks right side out before he throws them in the hamper, but he remembers an impressive array of football statistics.

No matter how often I watch, I simply cannot wrap my head around all of the positions. I wonder if there’s a critical age for learning football like there is for a new language; perhaps one must be under the age of 10 to fully grasp the game.

“OK,” he begins, outlining an imaginary football field on the table with his index finger. “Here is the quarterback. Who are the guys in front of him?”

I consider my answer, and he gives me a lopsided smirk, sure I’ll get it wrong. I do, but he is a patient instructor, and we go through each position and the Ravens player who fills it. I score about 70 percent, so we go through the lineup again, munching on our burgers and fries in between questions.

When my daughter left for college, I fretted about how quiet our home would be. What would I chat about with my son of few words? I prepared a mental list of topics we could discuss, determined to foster meaningful conversation. He doesn’t often talk about his friends, and he’s not particularly interested in pop culture. When he has something to say, he says it. But he does not talk just to hear himself speak.

It turns out my son isn’t quiet. He is quite capable of carrying on conversations and sharing tidbits about himself. I knew this, of course, but I had not seen his verbal prowess in action while his more loquacious sister was home. He seemed content to let her take center stage, or perhaps simply felt it wasn’t worth the effort to jockey for attention.

Now the attention is all his, but my direct questioning approach is too in-his-face. He prefers to initiate the conversation on his own terms and in his own time. I’ve learned to be comfortable with the silence, and rein in my probes and inquiries.

Football questions are always welcome, however, and we go through the lineup once again as we finish our lunch. I score a little better this time, but I know that I’ll forget the answers before Sunday’s game.

While I grumble about my failure to get a perfect score, this is one lesson I’m in no hurry to master.

A Baltimore native, Dana Hemelt lives in Howard County with her husband and two teenagers. She blogs at kissmylist.com and tweets @kissmylist.