Time Out

Sports have always been the best way I could connect with my father. As a child growing up in Uruguay, I didn’t spend much time with my dad. He worked in a bar he and his brother owned, and by the time he came home late at night, I would be sleeping. My only time to spend with him was on the weekends. 

Every weekend, no matter what the weather was like, we would go watch our local soccer team, Nacional, in the stadium. Soccer is a national pastime in Uruguay, sort of like baseball and football are in the U.S. 

I remember clearly the day in 1998 when Nacional won the country’s soccer championship. I was 8 years old. The team had already won the Apertura (the first of two soccer seasons) and it was in first place heading into the last game of the Clausura (the second season). All they had to do was win this game and they would be crowned champions. 

Another Side of Dad 

The other team, Huracan Buceo, was mediocre; I knew we were going to win. The last time Nacional had won was in 1992 when I was 2 years old, so I was anxious to see this game. By the looks of him, my dad was, too. He seemed tense and focused on what was happening on the field. I got nervous every time the other team shot at our goal. Then Nacional scored and everybody in the stadium went crazy. 

When, out of nowhere, they scored again, I cheered like I’d never cheered before. So much adrenaline and passion went through me. My dad hugged me real hard and I saw this other side of him where he looked like a little kid, really happy and excited. 

After the game, he told me, “You’re never going to forget this championship. It’s the first you have experienced and one of the many you are going to see.” He was right; I never forgot it. 

Absent Supporter 

We kept up our routine of going to games for a few years, until I started playing soccer myself on weekends when I was about 9. This cut down on our time together as father and son. My dad only went to my first game, because my games were played at the same time as the Nacional games. 

It was a little disappointing at first, because I expected him to be there at least once in a while. I would often see my teammates’ fathers there supporting their sons, and I felt bad that I didn’t have my own father out supporting me. 

But after every game, when I got home, he would ask me how everything went, which made me feel better. After a few games, I stopped caring and focused on having fun playing soccer. 

A year and half later, my dad came to the United States. Six months after that, my mom, my two siblings, and I joined him. That’s when everything changed. 

Back in Uruguay I hadn’t spent much time with my dad, but when I got here I barely saw him at all. Once, I went almost a whole week without seeing him. My dad worked as a chef in a restaurant and usually got home after 11 p.m. 

I hadn’t expected to see so little of him, and at first it was really hard. I was dealing with a new country, culture, and language, and I needed him there. But I couldn’t blame him because he was out working hard trying to give my whole family a better life. 

Precious Time Together 

About a year later, I started to spend more time with him, thanks to the 2002 World Cup soccer games. We watched all the Uruguay games together. The games were on late at night or very early in the morning because the World Cup was held in Korea and Japan that year. My dad would wake me up when the games started and we would watch and talk for a bit. It was good to spend some time with him again, but it wasn’t as good as going to the stadium together in Uruguay. 

As the games went on, though, he would come home each night and ask me about the scores for the games he’d missed. We started to talk more and spend more time together. This developed into a daily routine that continued even after the World Cup was over. And now that I’m older, I’m usually awake when he gets home, so we get to talk almost every night. 

Even though a lot of our talking is about sports, this time together is precious. Sometimes our conversations lead to him telling me stories about when he was my age or experiences he’s had throughout his life. 

‘Trust Me’ 

One evening about a year ago, we were watching the nightly news on Univision (a Spanish-language TV channel). When the sports came on, we learned that one of the best soccer players in the world, Ronaldo, had injured his knee during a game. My dad looked at me and said, “Well, that’s it for Ronaldo. He’s not going to be playing anymore.” 

“I don’t think so,” I said. “He’ll be out for a while, but he’s going to come back and still be a great player.” 

My dad disagreed. “He had that same injury before and he came back. But he was young then, in his early 20s. Now he’s in his 30s and he’s overweight. It’s impossible for him to come back and play again.” 

When I protested, my dad said, “Look, I had a similar injury and I had to be in bed for several months. I couldn’t run anymore and was never able to play again. Trust me, if he does come back, he will be a shadow of his former self.” He went on to explain that when he had to stop playing, he and his brother opened their bar. 

Stories of His Life 

I’d known that my dad once played soccer and got injured, but I’d never known any details or how it had affected his life. I had no idea that this was how he wound up opening the bar in Uruguay. I’d always thought my dad and his brother inherited it from their dad. 

It was cool to hear my dad tell me more about his past. I liked getting to know more about him. I thought about how one little thing changed his life and I wondered if one day something could change my life so suddenly. 

After that, there were many other times when we started talking about sports and ended up talking about his life or mine. I learned that he was similar to me when he was my age. He loved sports just like I did and often put soccer ahead of other things that he was supposed to do, like I do sometimes. 

My dad’s stories are not only interesting but a privilege to hear. I know a lot of teenagers who don’t interact with their fathers like that, or who don’t have a father at all. 

No Sermon 

Our conversations have helped me get to know my dad better and they’ve also improved the way we talk. For instance, one day about a year and a half ago, I got into a fight with a classmate at school. I figured that when my dad got home from work, I was going to hear it from him. I expected him to start screaming and giving me a sermon like he usually did. 

But to my surprise, when he got home, he told me in a calm voice, “You did wrong and I hope you learn from this. I understand that sometimes you don’t think about what you’re doing when you’re angry. And I can’t scream at you because I have also done bad things like fighting in school. But in the long run it hurt me and fighting didn’t change anything. 

“Please, next time you encounter a situation like this one, think. You are a man already. I’m tired of talking to you like a little kid.” 

If he had started screaming at me, I would have just got mad back at him. I respected his new way of approaching me. I told him I knew I’d done wrong and that it wouldn’t happen again. 

A Way to Talk 

I think because my dad and I were talking every day, he saw how I had progressed as a person and understood the way I like to be approached. At one point I had told him that I don’t like to be screamed at and prefer having him talk to me about whatever I’ve done wrong. When he used what I had told him, it showed me how far we’d come in our relationship. 

In my culture, most guys don’t express their feelings openly or talk about things other than “guy stuff,” like sports. Sports gave my dad and me a way to talk about things in our lives without getting too far away from what’s comfortable. I found a great way to connect with my father and have him there for me when I need him. I think more male teens should look for something that they and their dad (or whoever their father figure is) have in common and take it from there.